I had locked up the mill securely, and hung out the slate for any orders that might come in. Then we started down the lake shore, keeping our eyes wide open for anything unusual that might present itself.
“They are a sly crowd,” remarked Ford as we hurried along. “It is my opinion that the three had this matter planned out before your uncle ever came to the Bend.”
“It would seem so,” I returned. “But I don’t understand it. Mr. Norton came as soon as he could after my father’s death.”
“Maybe he had something to do with your father’s death,” suggested my helper. “A man who would try to burn up a boy wouldn’t stop at anything.”
I shuddered. The idea was so horrible I could not reply.
We skirted the cove where the stranger’s boat had been tied up several days before. Here, as I have said, the bushes were heavy, and any craft could be well hidden.
“I would like to know what they have done with my old boat,” I said, as we peered right and left. “She wasn’t worth much, but she would be mighty handy just now.”
“That’s true,” replied Ford.
Then he gave a sudden start, plunged ahead, and disappeared around some rocks.