"Perhaps," muttered Harvey.
The girl crept along the platform and descended a short flight of steps that led to the mill flume—a long box-like sluice-way that carried the water in to turn the mill wheels. These wheels were silent now, for two great gates at the end of the flume barred out the waters. The girl tripped lightly along a single plank that extended over the flume. The boys followed cautiously.
"Can you swim?" asked Harvey.
"Why, of course," said she.
Presently she paused, took a few steps across a plank that led to a window, raised that, climbed in and disappeared.
"Come on," she called softly. "I'll show you where to step."
"Whew!" exclaimed Harvey. "This is worse than a gale in Samoset Bay."
"Oh, it's lovely when you get inside," said Henry Burns—"all except the rats. Come along."
They climbed in through the window, dropping on to a single plank on the other side, by the child's direction.
"Now stay here," she said, "till I come back."