  It was almost dark. These lads were accustomed to camping out, and believed that they knew nearly all about the many sounds likely to be heard in the woods around that region. However, the fact that stories had been told about the old mill being haunted gave several of them an uneasy feeling. Since few persons ever came up here, there having been no grist in the hopper of the mill for many years, Nature had taken back her own. Everywhere bushes, vines, briars and weeds abounded, and the little wild animals frisked about under the trees as though they looked upon that spot as their especial domain. Night birds, too, began to croak and utter their various doleful cries, particularly a family of screech owls that called to one another with whinnies and long-drawn loving notes. Then there was the constant fretful murmur of the water, dripping over the moss-covered wheel of the mill, or forcing a passage through crevices of the dam. Taken all together, things conspired to make some of the boys shrug their shoulders, and keep rather close to their mates under the conviction that there is strength in union. Besides all this they could not forget that they meant to assail a couple of “tough nuts,” as Billy called the pair of hobo yeggmen in the mill. This alone was sufficient to strain their courage, for they were but boys. Every one was pleased though, when the word came to start moving. Action is far preferable to lying idle and suffering the pangs of anxiety and uncertainty. Each scout seemed to feel that he was on his mettle to do his level best. Gusty Merrivale took pattern from the rest, and really acquitted himself in a way to satisfy Hugh that he had the elements to make a good member of the troop, if he still continued to cherish his present desire to join them later on. Soon they could catch fugitive glimpses of a faint gleam of light ahead. Every one knew without being told that this must proceed from some dusty window of the mill. The men inside had a fire going in place of a lamp or a candle. They possibly did not like the cobwebbed interior of the place any too well, and did their best to make it seem a bit more cheery by keeping the blaze going, even after their supper had been disposed of. This pleased the scouts very much, for it showed them how things lay. There was less likelihood of any slip happening when those against whom they were opposed arranged matters so that they could be constantly seen. Gradually the entire squad had gained a place close beside the mill. Those who had been picked out to accompany the leader of the Foxes had been warned to be very careful of their footing. In order to reach the outer shed from which they expected to attain the loft, they would be compelled to pass over the wet and slippery apron of the dam for several yards. Should an unlucky scout manage to lose his footing, while crossing the heavy planks at this point, he might take a plunge that he would never forget. Instead of capturing the tramps, his mates would have their work cut out for them in rescuing him from a watery grave in the deep pool that lay below. There was one thing on which Hugh relied to help him out. This was the constant noise of running water which he expected would cover up any misplay on the part of a clumsy scout. Leading his own detachment, Hugh made his way carefully to the broken-down door of the mill. No one of the various casual lodgers entertained of recent years in the abandoned structure had ever made the slightest effort to repair the door or smashed windows. All they cared for was a fairly decent roof over their heads that would shed water in a heavy rain. In consequence, there was no trouble in finding an entrance to the building. Hugh, of course, did not push in without first taking an observation. He had learned caution as one of the first things after joining the scouts, and he knew the folly of not looking before leaping in the dark. The fire was at the other end of the mill. He could see moving figures there as though the tramps were not yet ready to settle down to sleep. Hugh only hoped that no sudden thirst would cause one of the men to think of starting outside while he and the eager squad at his back were creeping stealthily toward the fire. One by one, the boys crossed the doorsill like so many shadows. Gusty came last of all, not that he was asked to bring up the rear, but simply because he realized that he did not know as much about these things as the fellows who had been practicing scout tactics for months. It was a new departure for Gusty to admit so much even to himself, and showed the startling change that was being effected in his once overbearing disposition. Now they were all inside, and so far everything had gone well. Not a fellow had tripped, or as much as made the least sound that could have reached the ears of the two tramps. Counting himself, Hugh had eight fellows in his bunch; Don carried just five. Surely they ought to be able to overwhelm the enemy by sheer force of numbers unless they managed unfortunately to get in each other’s way. This was what Hugh wished to avoid most of all. He had even tried to give each member of his force a certain place in the line so as not to interfere with the rest. Hugh led the advance. He used his eyes to good advantage in order to locate each and every possible source of cover, so as to profit by the same. Trailing in his wake came the others, striving to copy every movement made by their leader, for they knew that Hugh was a master hand at such things. The hoboes seemed to be taking things as easy as they possibly could. They lay there stretched out at full length, smoking their black pipes, and exchanging occasional words. No doubt they had canvassed their plans for the immediate future, and had everything laid out ahead, never dreaming that danger lay near at hand. Gusty, coming along in the rear, found himself unaccountably moved as he crept after one of the scouts. His initiation into some of the exciting episodes that are likely to come the way of active members of a patrol had been unusually thrilling. He was having the best time of his life, and he realized that after all he had it in him right along to participate in such delightful happenings, though never until the present awakening to the fact. Meanwhile Hugh, in the van, had decided just where he and his followers must come to a halt. They could not get quite as close to the lounging men as he would have liked. He expected the scouts in the loft to be in a position to strike the first blow. They were no longer moving at the pace which had marked their entrance into the old mill. A snail could hardly have wriggled along slower than Hugh was doing at this stage of the proceedings, so at least Bud Morgan thought. Bud, however, had always been inclined toward haste in most things he undertook. Therefore, he could be hardly looked upon as a good judge. At a previous time there had been a half-hearted attempt made to start operations, looking to rebuilding the falling walls of the abandoned mill. It had been given up as hopeless, but, at the same time, quite a pile of stones had been carried into the place. By good luck it came about that this heap was just where it could be utilized by the scouts. Indeed, it had served them as a splendid cover more than half the time while they were creeping forward. Behind it they ranged, still on their hands and knees. The fire flickered, and occasionally snapped as some brittle section of wood was greedily seized upon by the flames. Deep and harsh sounded the voices of the lounging tramps. Lazily the wreaths of smoke curled upward from their pipes. Hugh was fully awake to making his arrangements while the chance remained. He had it fixed so that about half of his force hovered near one end of the rock pile, while the rest waited close to the other termination. Some of the scouts were holding themselves in just such positions as they would have assumed had they been entered for a fifty-yard sprint, and at the sound of the pistol expected to fairly shoot away. They crouched low, with their finger tips placed on the rough deal planks of the floor of the mill. Every fellow was wondering how Don Miller and his four climbers might be making out. They had had ample time, it would seem, to cover the ground; and it was to be hoped that not many more minutes would elapse before the scratching of the imaginary rat four times would tell Hugh that all was ready. If ever boys were keyed up to top-notch fever, those seven were who lay back of the friendly rock pile, and counted the passing seconds. Every nerve in their whole bodies seemed on edge. Small sounds were terribly magnified; and several times one or the other of them would fancy that he had caught the eagerly expected signal from the leader of the Fox patrol up there in the dense gloom of the loft just above where the tramps lay on their hay. Oh! it was cruel the way Don Miller held off! Could anything have happened to upset his share in the general plan? Had one of his command slipped on those mossy and slimy planks of the dam, and fallen in? Since they had heard nothing that sounded like an alarm it did not seem possible. And then at last it came—one, two, three, four—plain scratches, as though an industrious rat had set himself a gigantic task. It was time! |
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