"I'd be half sick if I didn't get a chance to see who they are," ventured little Semi-Colon.
"And me, if I lost a splendid opportunity to use this lovely club," Bristles remarked, swinging the article in question around his head, until it fairly whistled through the air.
"Is there any hole they might get out of, Sid?" asked Fred.
"Well," replied the other, speedily; "if I was in there, and heard some hot-headed fellows banging on the door with all sorts of clubs, I think I'd make a break for the old wheel, and take my chances climbing down. If one of the rotten paddles broke, it'd mean a ducking in the pond below; but I'd risk that."
"All right," Fred said, quickly; "we'll try to stop up that leak, Corney."
"That's me," replied the other, stepping out of the line.
"You and Semi-Colon guard the wheel; and if anybody tries to escape that way, I don't need to tell you what to do."
"And we'll do it, all right; won't we, Semi?" Corney boasted, immediately swinging around, and heading toward the spot where the moss-covered wheel of the deserted mill could be seen, with little streams of water trickling over it from the broken sluiceway above.
"The rest of us will tackle one of the doors, and break it in, if it's fast," Fred went on to say.
"And don't let's be all day about it, either," remarked the impatient Bristles, who was fretting all the while because he could not be doing something.