After he had passed his father’s store, which was in darkness, he came to a part of the town where there were no street lamps. However the moon gave considerable light.
There were mysterious shadows, too, and once Ned thought one took on the shape of a man sneaking around a corner. He came to a halt, his heart beating wildly.
“Pshaw! It must have been a cloud,” he declared.
A little later he came nearer the iron mill. It was located on the bank of a river, and the rushing of the water sounded rather uncanny in the lonesome night. Once more Ned started as he beheld a shadow glinting along the street ahead of him.
“That’s no moon-shadow,” argued the boy. “That’s the outline of a man, if ever there was one. And it looked for all the world like Bill Berry. Well, I don’t know’s I’m afraid of him, and he certainly isn’t of me.”
He walked on boldly, whistling to keep up his courage, though he would have disputed that point had any one accused him. Then he came in full view of the mill. Through the glass door of the office he caught sight of a light. He gave a sudden start and hurried forward.