There was somebody in the old mill, evidently, for the light as from a lantern was discernible now and again through one of the old, cobwebbed windows; a light that flickered fitfully first from one floor, then from another.
"It's Witham," said John Ellison. "He's always in the mill now, early and late. I'll bet he's hunted through it a hundred times since he's had it. It gets on his mind, I guess; for I've seen him come back down the road many a night, after the day's work was over, and he'd had supper, and go through the rooms with the lantern."
"Well," said Henry Burns, quietly, "we'll go through them, too. We'll do it, some way."
CHAPTER XV
A HUNT THROUGH THE MILL
"Say, Henry, guess what I'm going to do," said John Ellison, as he met Henry Burns in the road leading from Benton, a few days following the return from camp.
Henry Burns, leaning on the paddle he was carrying, looked at his friend for a moment and then answered, with surprising assurance, "You're going to work for Witham."
John Ellison stared at his friend in amazement.
"You ought to be a fortune-teller," he exclaimed. "You can't have heard about it, because I haven't told anybody—not even the folks at home. How'd you know?"