hem, and they must by now be getting up in the region
where the mill spoken of was to be found.

He kept a bright lookout ahead, but trees concealed much of the view, so
that he could hardly have made any discovery. Besides, upon asking Sid,
he learned that the deserted mill was not upon this road at all; but
down a private lane, that was almost wholly overgrown with briars and
bushes, not having been used for teams in nearly twenty years.

They had met very few persons on the road--a haywagon headed for
Riverport to supply some of the local demand; a farmer making his way
slowly homeward after an early visit to the market with produce--these
two going in opposite directions made up about the sum total.

In these days it had become such a common sight to meet groups of boys
clad in running togs, and sprinting along the country roads, that
neither driver paid much attention to the bunch that loped easily
onward.

"There's where the Mechanicsburg road joins this one," Sid had said, as
they passed the junction point; but there was no reason why they should
stop; though Fred did find himself wondering whether, if he examined the
ground very carefully around on that other turnpike, he would discover
such a thing as a footprint, with the sole patched.

"If it was done by Mechanicsburg fellows," he remarked, "I reckon they'd
have come out here then, and gone along the road to borrow Toby's white
horse with the covered wagon. It must have been that last which drew
them; because, you see, they could hide inside, and nobody would think
they were carrying off a fellow."

"We're getting pretty close now, Fred," remarked Sid; "suppose you
slacken up, and give Semi-Colon a chance to get his wind. He's nearly
done for."

"Ain't neither!" snapped the game little fellow, stubbornly; "c'd keep
it up--all morning--if I--had to."

But Fred immediately stopped running, falling back into a walk. He was
looking ahead along the road.

"There's a boy just passing that opening yonder, and coming this way,"
he remarked; "and strikes me he doesn't look like a regular buck-wheat
farmer's boy."

"Where?" demanded Sid, eagerly, and immediately adding; "Ginger! if it
ain't that Wagner, the Mechanicsburg fellow who always puts up such a
stiff fight in baseball, football and the rowing contest. Now whatever
in the wide world d'ye think he can be doing here, three miles and more
from home?"

"Oh!" said Fred, drily, "perhaps they've heard th