TOM MAKES PLANS
Tom had two ideas, both centering about one subject--the rescue of his
chums. That they were held prisoners in the old mill he had no doubt.
“Of course I could tramp into Wilden,” he mused, as he sat beside the
campfire, “and get a posse of men to come here and raid the place. With
them to help we could make short work of Wallace, Skeel and company,
and we’d get the boys out. But then, on the other hand, that would give
the whole game away. I’m sure there’s some sort of treasure in that old
mill, or Skeel would never bother with trying to find it. The hermit
must have, in some way, proved to him that it’s there.”
“Now, then, assuming that it is in the mill, or somewhere around it, do
I want a whole crowd out here, overrunning the place, and maybe finding
the treasure? I certainly don’t, even though they might not find it.
But what would happen would be that a whole crowd of people, who have
nothing else to do, would hang around here the rest of the summer,
looking for the treasure if it wasn’t found at the time of the rescue.
That would spoil our camp.
“Of course I’ve got to rescue the boys--that’s certain. I might get
some of Mr. Henderson’s friends--a few of them--and make them promise
to keep it a secret. Even then it would leak out, and the whole town
would be out here sooner or later. We wanted to come to a wild place,
and we found it. Now there’s no sense in making it civilized.
“No, I’ll work this thing out alone, and I’ll rescue the boys
single-handed. I ought to be able to do it after I rescued dad and
mother from that cannibal island, and got ahead of old Skeel. I
defeated him twice and I can do it again, and I will!”
Now that he had come to a decision Tom felt more hopeful, and he began
to go over plans in his mind. He had made and rejected half a dozen,
from undermining the mill, and blowing a breach in the walls, to making
believe set fire to it and getting in under cover of the confusion.
“But I don’t believe any of those schemes would do,” he mused. “I’ve
got to use strategy against those fellows. They are evidently looking
for an open attack, by the way the old hermit was doing sentinel duty
in the window. I wonder how in the world he got up there when there
are no stairs in the mill?”
Tom’s brain was getting weary with so much hard thinking. He felt as if
he was back in Elmwood Hall, and had to puzzle over some hard geometry
proposition.
“I’m going to bed,” he decided at length. “Maybe in the morning I’ll be
fresher and can think better.”
He collected a quantity of dry wood, and had it in readiness to throw
on the embers of the campfire. He also took a lantern with him inside
the sleeping tent, turning the wick low, and he had a gun in readiness.
“I’m not going to be taken by surprise if I can help it,” he mused.
“That’s how they must have gotten Jack and the others into their power.
I’ll fight if they try to get me, and they might, for with one of us
loose they know there’ll be an attempt at a rescue.”
Tom made himself comfortable on his cot, but for a time he could not
sleep. Then he fell into a doze, only to awaken with a start as he
heard someone prowling about the camp.
“Who’s there?” he called, sitting up and reaching out for his gun. There
was no answer, and Tom arose and peered from the flaps of the tent. As
he did so he saw a movement near the boxes where the provisions were
kept.
“Get out of there!” he cried, as he fired in the air. A dark body
leaped away and an ember of the fire, flaring up just then, revealed a
small animal.
“Only a fox!” laughed our hero. “Go ahead, you’re welcome to all you
can get,” for he had made the provisions secure before turning in. He
was not again disturbed, and to his surprise the sun was high in the
heavens when he awoke.
“I must have gotten in some good licks of sleep the latter part of
the night,” he reasoned, as he stretched and arose. “Now for a good
breakfast, and then to see what’s best to do.”
It was lonesome eating, all by himself, especially as he thought of the
jolly times he and his several chums had had around the packing-box
table.
“I wonder if they have anything for breakfast?” Tom mused, as he sipped
his coffee. “Well, I hope I can soon get ’em back with me again. The
hermit, or Skeel, probably captured them to prevent them from making
any further search for the treasure. But I’m here yet!” and he closed
his teeth grimly.
“Of course, after all, we haven’t any right to it,” he went on, “and if
we do find it, and it belongs to old Wallace, I’ll see that he gets it.
But I like the fun of hunting for it, and, since they’ve been so mean
I’ll be mean too, and do my best to beat ’em.”
Breakfast over, Tom busied himself about the camp, washing the dishes,
bringing in fresh water, and getting everything in order. It gave him
something to do, so that he would not feel so lonesome, and he found
that he could think better when he was occupied.
But, with all his reflection, he could not seem to hit on a plan of
rescue. One plan after another was formed, only to be rejected.
“I know what I’m going to do!” he finally exclaimed. “I’ll take another
trip to the mill, and see how things are now. I may be able to get to
the boys, or at least signal to them that I’m on the job. They must be
discouraged by this time.”
He rowed up the lake to the river, and, proceeding as before, paid a
visit to the cave, thinking perhaps there might be some developments
there. But the place was just as they had left it.
“Now for the mill!” exclaimed our hero. He went by a different route,
this time, so as to get in the rear of the structure. But, though he
looked for a long time at the broken windows, he saw no signs of his
friends.
“If I could only signal them--get into communication with them,” he
thought, “they might propose some plan of rescue. But I’m afraid I
can’t. I’ll have to go it alone.”
He circled about until he had a view of the front of the mill. Looking
up at the upper window he saw, not the old hermit, but Sam Heller on
guard with a gun.
“They’re all there--all the conspirators,” Tom murmured. “Probably
while one watches, the search for the treasure is going on. Oh, if I
could only get in there!”