Ned straddled the rafter—it was too dark to risk an upright position—and made his way to the nearest end, which terminated in one of the walls of masonry that formed the sides of the sluiceway, and on which the mill partially rested. Then he turned around and crept to the other end, where he found the same state of affairs.
His fears were now confirmed. The mill rose fairly from the two stone walls, and there was no way of escaping overhead, even had the other rafters been within reach. His only chance lay in the flooded waterway underneath.
Ned had more than half expected this, and was therefore prepared for the emergency. Without hesitation he swung from the rafter and dropped through eight feet of space into the turbid flood.
He went clear under, but came to the surface quickly, and swam with vigorous strokes down the wasteway. Both the air and the water were warm, and he felt little discomfort.
Between the reflex current from the creek on top, and the undertow from the sluiceway beneath, he was buffeted about considerably before he succeeded in emerging on the spit of land between the mill and the creek. He squeezed the water from his clothes as well as he could, and started up the slope through the stones and bushes. A misty drizzle of rain was still falling.
He redoubled his caution as he neared the upper end of the mill. Creeping on hands and knees to the door, he peeped cautiously over the threshold. He was hardly prepared for what met his gaze.
He had confidently expected to find Moxley sound asleep, and instead of that the fellow was sitting upright with his gun across his knees, and his bottle in one hand. Perhaps the splash made by Ned's drop into the wasteway had wakened him without arousing his supicions. He had no present intention of going to sleep, for he moved a little closer to the light of the lantern, and filled his pipe.
For a moment Ned felt the disappointment keenly. He knew what a severe blow it must be to his companions. It was out of the question to rescue them now, for Moxley was directly between the door and the closet.
Ned had been so sure of effecting his plan without hindrance, that it had not occurred to him what step to take in case of failure. But a brief consideration of matters raised his spirits, and he resolved to seek the nearest farmhouse and obtain help.
"That is a far better plan anyhow," he reflected with satisfaction. "Moxley will be captured, and we will recover our watches and money. And we won't have to start down this flooded creek in the dark, either, I must be quick, though, for Moxley might happen to open the closet and discover my absence. I wish there was some way of letting the boys know what I am going to do."