“But it’s cold,” spoke Bert, “and you need hot water, and soap, to get the grease off.”
“Oh, we’re not as particular as all that,” declared Dick.
Lanterns were lighted as the dusk settled down, and then the lads gathered in the main, or sleeping tent, around some boxes that had been arranged in the form of a table. On it the paper Tom had found was spread out.
“Well, what do you make of it now?” asked Bert, when he and the others had stared at the document for some time.
“It’s a plan—a plan of the old mill,” declared Tom. “That much is certain. See, here is the ground floor, with the main wagon entrance. Then comes the second floor where we were, with the machinery, mill-stones and the like. Then the third floor is shown, where there were living rooms, evidently. That must be where the old hermit hangs out when he’s home.”
“That part is all true enough,” said Bert, “but I don’t see where the location of treasure is marked on here.”
“Of course not!” exclaimed Tom. “If it was you can wager Skeel or the hermit would have had it long ago.”
“Then what good is the paper?” asked Dick.
“Well, don’t know yet,” Tom admitted frankly. “But I think it’s going to come in useful.” And he little knew what a service that same piece of paper was shortly to render him and his companions.
“I think it’s a sell,” declared Jack decidedly.