“Scared you; did he?” inquired Phil.
“A little, yes,” admitted Alice. “What is the matter with him?”
“Oh, disappointed in love when he was young—same as I’ve been half a dozen times,” put in Blake. “His sweetheart died, or ran away with some one else I believe. He lives all alone in a haunted mill not far away, and——”
“Rats!” cried Jack. “Nothing of the sort.”
“It’s getting shivery,” murmured Alice. “Haunted mills—and hermits——”
“Do tell us about it!” begged Natalie.
“Blake has it all twisted,” declared Phil. “Old Hanson does live in a deserted mill somewhere back of here, but it was his daughter who ran away—not his sweetheart. And it was years ago. He’s a little crazy I guess, and sometimes he imagines strangers do look like her. But he’s harmless.”
“Perfectly so,” chimed in Jack. “He often helps us around camp, when we’re too lazy to work. And he’s the best fisherman for miles around. Knows where all the big bass are.”
“But is the mill really haunted?” demanded Natalie.
“Stop, Nat!” commanded Alice. “Do you want us all to have bad dreams to-night?”