have to get out. He wouldn't make any
trouble; he knows what people think about him and the mill."

So John Ellison left it to Henry Burns; and the latter set about his
plans in his own peculiar and individual way. The scheme had only to be
mentioned to Jack and the others, to meet with their approval. They were
ready for anything that Henry Burns might suggest. The idea that a night
search, of premises which had already been hunted over scores of times
by daylight, did not offer much hope of success, had little weight with
them. If Henry Burns led, they would follow.

The night finally selected by Henry Burns and John Ellison would have
made a gloomy companion picture to the one when Harvey and Henry Burns
first made their entry into the mill, under the guidance of Bess
Thornton, except that it did not rain. Henry Burns and John Ellison had
noted the favourable signs of the weather all afternoon; how the heavy
clouds were gathering; how the gusts whipped the dust into little
whirlwinds and blew flaws upon the surface of the stream; how the waning
daylight went dim earlier than usual; and they had voted it favourable
for the enterprise.

Wherefore, there appeared on the surface of Mill stream, not long after
sundown, two canoes that held, respectively, Henry Burns and Harvey and
Tim Reardon, and Tom Harris and Bob White. These two canoes, not racing
now, but going along side by side in friendly manner, sped quietly and
swiftly upstream in the direction of the Ellison dam. Then, arriving
within sight of it, they waited on the water silently for a time, until
two figures crept along the shore and hailed them. These were John and
James Ellison.

"It's all right," said John Ellison, in answer to an inquiry; "Witham's
at home, and the place is deserted. And who do you suppose is on watch
up near the Half Way House, to let us know if Witham comes out? Bess
Thornton. I let her in on the secret, because I knew she'd help. She
knows what Old Witham is."

"Have you got it?" inquired Henry Burns, mysteriously.

"Sure," responded John Ellison. "It's up close by the mill. Come on."

They paddled up close to the white foam that ran from the foot of the
dam, where the falling water of the stream struck the basin below, and
turned the canoes inshore. There, up the bank, John Ellison produced the
mysterious object of Henry Burns's inquiry. It proved to be an old
wash-boiler.

Harvey and the others eyed it with astonishment.