CHAPTER IV.
THE SEARCH FOR A CLEW.
Following the lead of Elmer, the tall lanky scout and the wiry Southern boy quickly found themselves at the other end of the mill dam.
Lil Artha had cast his eyes about him as he cautiously made his way along. He seemed to be figuring on what chance there might be for an active chap like Nat Scott slipping on one of the wet and moss-covered stones, to go tumbling down toward that suspicious black pool.
Not so Chatz Maxfield.
Apparently he had made up his mind from the start that this strange vanishing of their comrade must have some connection with the mystery of the old mill.
Did they not admit that three separate times people had tried to live there in the dwelling that was part and parcel of the mill; and on every occasion they had given it up as a bad job?
Why?
Well, it seemed to be understood that none of them could stand the sights and sounds which had come to them while under that roof.
People might scoff at such things all they had a mind to, but surely it seemed as if there must be something in it.