"Well," suggested Henry Burns, "why not ask Witham about it?"
"Ask Witham!" exclaimed John Ellison. "I won't. I don't want ever to speak to him again. You can, though, if you want to."
"All right," said Henry Burns. "I'll ask him. And I'll get the money for you."
"I don't want it," exclaimed John Ellison, whose disappointment was evident in his tone of bitterness. "Give it to Tim—if you get it."
"All right," said Henry Burns.
Tim's eyes twinkled.
It was evening of the following day, and Colonel Witham sat on the porch of the Half Way House, smoking his pipe. It had been a puzzling day for him, and he was thinking it over. Going through the mill, along in the afternoon, he had come upon an extraordinary looking object in the garret—an old wash-boiler, inverted, with a resined cord running from the bottom of it up to a beam. And near by lay a sort of bow, strung with horse-hair.
What on earth could that be, and how had it come there? Colonel Witham, at first, had thought it might be some sort of an infernal machine, put there to destroy the mill. But he had investigated, cautiously, and demonstrated its harmlessness. And about the floor were a few half burned matches. Somebody had been in the mill. A faint perception began to dawn upon him, as the day passed, that it might have been the boys; but he couldn't wholly figure it out, and it bothered him not a little.
He thought of notifying the police—but he didn't want them hunting about the mill—or anybody else. The best thing, he decided, was to keep quiet, and watch out sharper than ever.
He was not in a friendly mood, therefore, when, gazing down the road, he espied Henry Burns approaching on a bicycle, followed closely by Jack Harvey and Tim Reardon. Moreover, his suspicions were aroused. He was somewhat surprised, however, when the boys dismounted at a little distance, leaned their wheels against some bushes and approached the porch.