THE STORY OF THE MILL
“Let me see if I can remember the story of the old mill,” mused Mr.
Fairfield, as Tom stood expectantly waiting. “It’s quite some years
since I heard it,” and he gazed reminiscently at the ceiling.
“This is better luck than I expected,” murmured Tom, and, while he is
thus waiting to hear the story of the secret of the old mill, I will
take the opportunity to tell you something more about him and his
friends, and the two previous books in this series.
My first volume was entitled, “Tom Fairfield’s Schooldays,” and in
that I related how our hero came to go to Elmwood Hall. It was because
his parents had to go to Australia to claim some property left by a
relative of Tom’s father.
As Tom could not go to the land of the kangaroo with his folks they
decided to send him to a boarding school, called Elmwood Hall.
Tom at once entered into the activities of the school. He made a friend
and an enemy the same day, the friend being Jack Fitch, with whom Tom
roomed, and whom I have already mentioned, in this story. Of course Tom
had other friends at the school, one being Bert Wilson.
Sam Heller, and his crony Nick Johnson, made it unpleasant for Tom, but
our hero managed to hold up his end. It was harder work, however, in
regard to Professor Skeel, who was a most unpleasant instructor. He was
unfair to the boys, and Tom proposed a novel plan to get even.
He suggested that they all go on a “strike” against Mr. Skeel, refusing
to recite to him unless he changed his manners. The unpopular professor
did not change, and Tom headed the revolt against him. This took Doctor
Pliny Meredith, the head master of the school, and all the faculty by
surprise. They did not know what to do until Mr. Skeel proposed that
the whole Freshman class, of which Tom was a member, be kept prisoners
in their dormitory, and fed on bread and water until they capitulated.
Among the pupils at Elmwood Hall was Bruce Bennington, a Senior, and
Tom was of great service to him in securing a forged note that Mr.
Skeel held over the head of Bennington, threatening to expose the
student and ruin his career. Tom put an end to the illegal acts of the
professor, who unexpectedly withdrew from the school.
Tom and his mates, after that, greatly enjoyed their life at Elmwood
Hall, and matters were more to their liking, but Tom was not at an end
of having adventures.
As I have said, Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield had gone to Australia to look
after some property. When Spring came they started for home, coming in
a sailing vessel for the sake of the long sea voyage.
Unexpectedly, one night, one of Tom’s chums saw a note in a paper
telling of a vessel picking up wreckage from the _Kangaroo_, the ship
on which Tom’s parents had sailed. This at once plunged Tom into the
depths of despair, but he did not give up hope. He at once decided to
go to Australia himself, and if necessary charter a small steamer and
cruise about in the location where the wreckage was picked up, hoping
his parents might still be afloat on some sort of life raft, or in an
open boat.
In the second volume of this series, entitled “Tom Fairfield at Sea,”
I related the details of his most exciting trip. For Tom’s vessel, the
_Silver Star_, on which he was proceeding to Sydney, was wrecked in a
storm, and Tom was tossed overboard. He managed to grab a life belt,
and floated until, in the early dawn, he saw two sailors from the ship
clinging to a derelict which the _Silver Star_ had hit, and which had
wrecked her.
Tom got aboard, and a little later a partly smashed lifeboat was
sighted. It was brought to the derelict by one of the sailors, and
found to contain Professor Skeel, who, it seems, had, by accident,
taken passage for Honolulu on the same ship as that on which our hero
started out. Naturally there was a mutual surprise.
Tom, the two sailors and Mr. Skeel were on the derelict for some time,
and then having patched up the lifeboat they set out in that. But it
was some time before they were picked up, and they had nearly starved.
There was also a little boy saved from the wreck--Jackie Case--and Tom
took charge of him.
Eventually Tom got to Australia, and then set out in a small steamer
he hired to search for his parents. It was a long trip, but he heard
that some survivors of a wreck were on an island in the Friendly
group, though which island it was could not be learned. Tom searched
on several and at last, and just in time, he discovered his father and
mother, and some others who had gotten away in a small boat from the
sinking _Kangaroo_.
That Tom was overjoyed need not be said, and he and his parents lost no
time in starting back for their home in this country. All the details
of the wreck, and how Tom brought his quest to a successful close, will
be found in the second volume. I might add here that later nearly all
those on board the _Silver Star_ were saved, including the father of
Jackie Case.
Tom went back to Elmwood Hall, and finished the spring term, graduating
and becoming a Sophomore. He had come home, ready for the long summer
vacation, when he received the letter from Jack Fitch, mentioned in the
first chapter of this book.
I might state that Tom’s father was quite well off, and that our
hero had sufficient spending money for his needs. He had, as I have
mentioned, a good motorboat.
“Well, dad,” remarked Tom, when he thought his parent had sufficiently
collected his thoughts. “Let’s have the story of the secret of the old
mill.”
“As nearly as I can recollect it,” began Mr. Fairfield, “this mill is
located about eight miles from the town of Wilden, where, as I told
you, I spent some years when a lad. No one seems to know when the mill
was built, but it is quite old, and must have been put up by the early
settlers. It is of stone, and used to grind grain by water power.
“The mill is on the bank of a small river that flows into Lake Woonset,
and it was this lake I was thinking of when I suggested that you go
camping near it. It’s of good size, and there is fine fishing in it.”
“But about the mill, dad. What’s the secret of it, and what about the
wild man?”
“I’m coming to that. As I said, the mill was probably built by the
early settlers, and, ever since I can remember, there has been a rumor
that there is treasure concealed in or about the old place.”
“Treasure, dad? What kind?”
“Well, there were all sorts of rumors. Some said pirates had come that
far inland, and had buried their ill-gotten gains there, and another
story was that during the Indian wars the settlers, of the then small
village of Wilden, fled one day, after warning had been given them of a
raid by the redmen. Before fleeing, however, it was said that they had
hidden all their money, gold and silver ornaments, and so on, in the
old mill. I think that story is more likely to be true than the other.
At any rate it is history that the Indians once descended on Wilden,
and killed nearly all the inhabitants.”
“Well, I’m glad there aren’t any Indians up there now, if we’re going
camping,” remarked Tom, “though one or two might be nice for variety.
But go on dad.”
“So it may be true that there is some treasure in or about the old
mill,” went on Mr. Fairfield. “I know we boys used to hunt for it, but
I never found any, though one of my chums, Tommy Gardner, did find a
dime once, and right away there was a wild story that he had come upon
the buried treasure. But it happened that the dime was one of recent
date, so that story soon fell through.
“Still, ever since I can recollect, there has been more or less of a
search made from time to time for gold and silver in the mill. In fact
while it was pretty much of a ruin as long as I can remember, it must
be much worse now, as the treasure hunters literally pulled it apart.”
“What about the wild man, dad?”
“Well, that has to do with the old mill also. This old Jason Wallace,
of whom your mother spoke, is a descendant of some of the early
settlers of Wilden. Naturally he heard the story of the treasure
supposed to be in the mill, and he was one of the most persistent
searchers after it. I never knew him very well, but it seems that
constant searching, and never finding anything, has turned his mind.
“He is practically crazy now, and fairly lives in the old mill. He has
fitted up some sort of a room there and goes about through the woods
at times, looking in all sorts of places for the treasure, thinking
I suppose that, after all, it may not be in the mill, but somewhere
around it.”
“Is he a dangerous character, dad?”
“Well, I suppose he might be in a way, if you crossed him, or if he
thought you were trying to do him out of the treasure.”
“Then we won’t cross him,” said Tom, with a laugh. “But all this sounds
interesting, and I don’t believe we could camp in a better place.”
“You’ll be careful; won’t you, Tom?” asked his mother.
“Oh, sure,” he answered with a smile. “But after what I went through in
the shipwreck I’m not afraid of a wild man. Why, I might even help him
find the treasure.”
“I don’t really believe there is any,” said Mr. Fairfield. “I wouldn’t
lose any sleep over it if I were you, Tom.”
“I won’t. We fellows will probably be so busy having a good time in
camp that we won’t go near the old mill, except maybe to take some
photos of it. Is that all there is to the story, dad?”
“That’s all I know,” replied Mr. Fairfield. “You might see your
mother’s friend, Mrs. Henderson, when you get to Wilden, and she may be
able to give you some additional particulars.”
“She wrote me,” said Mrs. Fairfield, “that the way old Jason Wallace
takes on is terrible at times. He rushes around through the woods,
yelling at the top of his voice, and whenever he meets people he
imagines they are after the treasure in the mill. I do wish, Tom, that
you weren’t going to such a place. Can’t you pick out just as good a
spot somewhere else, to go camping?”
“Oh, no, momsey! This is great! I wouldn’t miss this for anything, and
the fellows will think it’s the best ever, I know. I’m going to tell
Dick Jones first, and then write to Jack and Bert.”
“Well, do be careful,” urged Mrs. Fairfield, who seemed filled with
anxiety.
“Don’t worry,” advised her husband. “Tom can take care of himself I
guess. Why, he even found us when we were shipwrecked, you know.”
“Yes, I know. But this is different, up there in the woods, with that
crazy creature roaming about. And it’s so lonesome and so far from a
town!”
“All the better,” laughed Tom. “It’s no fun camping next door to a
village. We want to rough it. I’m going to find Dick.” And he hurried
off to tell his village chum the good news.