During the days that grinding was slack I could go fishing in the boat, or, better yet, hire out the craft to such parties at the Bayport hotels as wished to charter her. I knew there was money in doing this, and money was what I was after.
It was dark when I ran up to the mill landing. Not a light was to be seen about the place. I fastened the Catch Me by means of a chain with a lock and key—a thing that gave me much satisfaction, as I thought it would now be no easy matter to run off with my property.
I approached the mill silently, and pushed open the door of the grinding-room. As I did so I fancied I heard the faint murmur of voices.
I stopped short and listened. I had not been mistaken; and I judged the sounds came from the room under the living apartments.
For a second I knew not what to do; then I tiptoed my way across the floor to one of the bedrooms, and carefully raised up one of the boards that I knew was loose.
The rays of a small lantern met my eyes; and by the light I saw that two men were in the room. One was the man called Yates, and the other was Mr. Enos Norton.
My surprise at seeing the latter was intense. With all the others at the Bend, I had felt sure my guardian had made his way to Hillsburg to take the midnight train.
“It was a risky thing to come back here,” I heard Yates say.
“I don’t think so,” replied Mr. Norton. “No one would think I would dare to come back; and I left the impression behind that I had gone towards Hillsburg.”