Pathfinder - Part 3
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Part 3

"Do we stay long at the old mill?" asked Chatz.

Red gave him a quick, suspicious look.

"Aw, I reckon I know what's on our comrade's mind," he remarked, with a wink.

"As what?" demanded Landy.

"Chatz thinks he'd like to prowl around some, and see if that ghost has left any signs. 'Tain't often he's had a chance to meet up with a real haunted house, eh, Chatz?" and Red gave the Southern boy a sly dig in the ribs.

"Never had that pleasure in all my life, fellows, I a.s.sure you," replied the Southern boy, with ill-concealed delight in his manner.

"But say, no respectable ghost was ever known to walk except at midnight, and we don't intend camping out at the old mill, do we, just because of this silly talk?" asked George.

"Oh, the rest of us don't, but Chatz might take a notion to stay over,"

laughed Red. "When a fellow is set on investigating things he don't understand, and which were never meant for us to understand, there's just no telling how far he will carry the game."

Chatz gave him a lofty look.

"Thank you for the compliment, suh," he said.

They continued to follow the "spoor" of the two hounds, left so plainly for their guidance.

It was not long before another stick that held a bark "message" was discovered. And Landy felt immensely elated to think that by some chance he had been the first to see the "sign."

"I'll surprise you fellows yet, just mark me," he chuckled, while Matty was trying to read the queer little characters Elmer had marked upon the brown inner side of the fresh bark torn from a convenient tree close by.

"Wish you would, old top," remarked Red, with his customary enthusiasm.

"You'll get to like all these things more and more, the farther you go,"

said Larry.

"I feel that way already," was Landy's quick reply; "only I'm that clumsy and slow-witted I just don't see how I'm ever going to keep up with the procession."

"Elmer says it's only keeping everlastingly at it that makes a good scout," remarked Chatz.

Evidently, from the way these boys continually quoted "Elmer," the a.s.sistant scout master must be a very popular fellow in Hickory Ridge, and those who have made a study of boy nature can understand what rare elements the said Elmer must have in his composition to make so many friends and so few enemies.

"Come around and see what I've made out of this message," said Matty just then.

It proved to be the concluding communication, and in plain picture language informed those for whom it was left that the two foxes had stopped here, made a dense smoke to attract their missing comrade, and when joined by him, the three had gone on together to the rendezvous at the old mill.

"Fine," cried Landy, when he heard what a remarkable story those rude drawings told.

"Very good--if true," admitted George.

"Well, come along and we'll prove it," laughed Matty; "for unless I miss my guess the mill is close by."

"Sure," declared Red. "I can hear the noise of water tumbling down some rocks, or over a mill dam."

Five minutes later and Chatz called out:

"There you are, suh!"

The mill could be seen through the trees, and all of the boys felt the greatest eagerness to hurry along and reach this spot.

It happened that none of this bunch had ever set eyes on Munsey's mill, or the pond just above it. There were plenty of places nearer Hickory Ridge for fishing purposes. And besides, the dear familiar old "swimming hole" was more convenient than this place, nearly seven miles away.

"I see Elmer and Lil Artha," observed Larry.

"Yes, and there's another fellow just beyond. I reckon it must be Ty Collins," said Chatz.

Elmer waited for them to come up. He and his companions were standing on the edge of the dam which had long ago been built in order to hold up the water and form the big lonely looking pond beyond.

"Ugh, what a spooky looking place this is!" exclaimed Larry, as soon as they drew up where they could look out on the big pond, its surface in places partly covered with lily plants, and the long trailing branches of weeping willows dipping down to the water.

"It sure is, suh!" remarked Chatz, plainly interested, and not a little excited.

"Here we are, Elmer," called out Matty; "and I guess the second bunch will be along soon. I see Ty and Toby, but where's Nat Scott?"

Elmer gave him a serious look.

"That's just what we're wondering," he said. "They all reached the old mill, you see, but Nat seems to have disappeared in a mighty queer way!"

CHAPTER III.

THE STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE OF NAT.

"Oh!"

Chatz was the only one who gave utterance to a sound after Elmer had made this surprising, as well as alarming, admission.

The others were looking, first at Elmer, then at each of his three companions as well; and finally out upon the dismal pond that a.s.sumed much the appearance of a lake, it stretched so far up the valley, almost a quarter of a mile, in fact.

Just then the only sound they heard was the noisy scolding of the water as it went over the spill or ap.r.o.n of the stout dam that had stood all these long years, defying floods and the ravages of time.

And somehow, there was something chilling in the very lonesome character of their surroundings.

Of the ten scouts present, Chatz seemed to be the only one who did not look solemn. There was an eager glow in the Southern boy's dark eyes, as though the situation appealed to that element of superst.i.tion in his nature.

And Elmer, noting this expression, that was almost of glee, knew that when the companions of Chatz fondly believed they had cured him of his silly faith in ghosts and such things, they had made a mistake. The snake had only been "scotched," not killed. It was already awakening again, under the first favorable conditions.

"Say, this ain't any part of the game, is it?" demanded Red.

"Yes, you don't expect us to guess what's become of Nat, and then find him grinning at us, perhaps astraddle of a limb up in a big tree?"

remarked Larry.