The Rival Campers Ashore Part 29

"I dunno as I care much about it," answered Tim, bluntly.

The woman smiled a little. "No?" she said. "Let's see your hand."

Tim extended a grimy fist across the table, the lines of which were so obscured with the soil of Coombs's landing that it might have puzzled more than a wizard to read them. But the woman, her keen eyes twinkling, remarked quickly, "That's a fisherman's hand. You're the best fisherman on the pond."

Tim began to take more interest. "I've caught the biggest ba.s.s of the year," he said.

"That's it; what did I tell you?" exclaimed the woman. "I think you're going to have a lot of money left to you some day," she added, noting at a glance Tim's poor attire. Little Tim grinned.

"You have some courage, too," continued the woman, who had not failed to observe the boy's features and the glance of his eye. But at this moment Little Tim gave an exclamation of surprise. Surveying the room he had espied the lettering on a partly unrolled banner in one corner, where the words, "Lorelei, the Sorceress," were inscribed.

"Why, I've seen you before," he said. "That is, I haven't seen you, either; but I've seen your picture on that canvas--and you don't look like that at all."

The woman laughed heartily. "You're sure you don't think it looks like me?" she added, and laughed harder than ever. "Well, I should hope not,"

she said; "but I fix up like that some, for the show. Where'd you see me?"

"Why, it was down at Benton," answered Tim. "You were with the circus."

Then, as the full remembrance of the occasion came to him, Tim became of a sudden excited. "Say," he asked, "what did Old Witham want?"

The woman looked at him in surprise.

"Old Witham," she repeated, "I don't know who you mean. I don't know any Old Witham."

"Oh, yes you do," urged Tim; and he described the unmistakable figure and appearance of the corpulent colonel, together with the time and night of his visit. The woman's eyes lit with amus.e.m.e.nt. She remembered how the colonel had parted with his money painfully.

"Oh, he didn't want much," she said. "Somebody had hidden some papers in a factory or mill of some sort--that's what I thought, anyway--and he wanted me to tell him where they were."

"Oh," replied Tim, in a tone of disappointment. "Is that all?" He had really fancied the colonel might have a love affair, and that it would be great fun to reveal it to the boys.

"Why, what business is it of yours, what he wanted?" inquired the woman.

"It ain't any," answered Tim. "Guess I'll go now;" and he made his escape through the door.

"Oh, she didn't tell me anything," said Little Tim, as the boys surrounded him a moment later. "Said I could catch fish, though. How do you suppose she knew that?"

Mr. Bangs seemed much amused. "She's a real witch," he exclaimed. "Well, good-bye, boys. Come again next year."

They said good-bye and started off.

"Say, Jack," said Little Tim, as they walked along together, "that's the fortune-teller that was down to Benton with the circus. Remember I told you we caught Witham coming out of the tent? Well, I asked her what he was there for, and it wasn't anything at all. He was only hunting for some papers that somebody had hidden--"

"What's that--tell me about that?"

Henry Burns, who had been walking close by, but who had been not greatly interested up to this point, had suddenly interrupted. "What did Witham want?" he repeated.

Little Tim repeated the fortune-teller's words.

Henry Burns, hurrying ahead to where the others were walking, caught John Ellison by an arm and drew him away. "Come back here a minute," he said. "Here, Tim, tell John what the fortune-teller said about Witham."

John Ellison, listening to Tim Reardon, grew pale and clenched his fist.

"That's it," he cried. "There _are_ some other papers, don't you suppose? Lawyer Estes said there might be; but they couldn't find them, though they hunted through the mill. I just know there are some. Witham knew it, too. That's what he was after. Tim, you've found out something big, I tell you. We've just got to get into that mill again and go through it. Don't you say a word to anybody, Tim."

Tim's eyes opened wide with astonishment--but he promised.

All through the work of striking and packing the two tents, and stowing the stuff into the wagon, Henry Burns and John Ellison discussed this new discovery; what it might mean and what use could be made of it. And all the way home, on the long, dusty road, they talked it over. They were late getting started, and it was eight o'clock when they turned in at the Ellison farm.

The mill had ceased grinding for two hours, and night had settled down.

But, as they got out of the wagon, John Ellison called to Henry Burns and pointed over the hill toward the mill.

"Do you see?" he said softly, but in excited tones. "Do you see? That's what I see night after night, sometimes as late as nine o'clock."

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 a.s.surance, "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?"

"I didn't," replied Henry Burns, smiling at the other's evident surprise. "I only guessed. I knew by the way you looked that it was something unusual; and I know what you're thinking of all the time; it's about those papers. So I've been thinking what I'd do, if I wanted a chance to look for them, and I said to myself that I'd try to go to work in the mill, and keep my eyes open."

"Well, you've hit it," responded John Ellison. "I know he needs a man, and I'm big enough to do the work. Say, come on in with me to-morrow, will you? I hate to go ask Old Witham for work. You don't mind. Come in and see what he says."

"I'll do it," replied Henry Burns. "I'll meet you at the foot of the hill to-morrow forenoon at ten o'clock. Perhaps he'll hire me, too."

"You! you don't have to work," exclaimed John Ellison.

"No, but I will, if he'll take me," said Henry Burns. "I'll stay until I get one good chance to go through the mill, and then I'll leave."

"You're a brick," said John Ellison. "I'm going to tell mother about the scheme now. She won't like it, either. She'd feel bad to have me go to work there for somebody else, when we ought to be running it ourselves.

Where are you going--canoeing?"