ntern is gone, but I have a candle here,
if we need it. It was in the pocket of my rubber coat."

"That's exactly what we _do_ need," replied Ned. "It will help us to
find some dry wood in the mill. But first of all we must drag the canoes
and the tent on shore."

This proved a difficult task, but it was finally accomplished. The
canoes were turned bottom up, and the tent was stretched over a clump of
bushes. Then Ned led the way down stream to the saw mill.

CHAPTER XX

MR. DUDE MOXLEY

When the boys reached the corner of the dam Ned produced his waterproof
match box and lighted the candle. This enabled them to cross the
sluiceway in safety, and after noting with some alarm that the creek was
still coming up rapidly, they entered the saw mill at the upper end,
where the floor was level with the breast work of the dam--or rather a
few feet above it.

The lower end was twelve or fifteen feet higher than the wasteway, and
was supported by an open network of huge beams.

With the greatest caution the boys scrutinized their surroundings. The
first floor contained nothing but _debris_--heaps of sawdust, strips of
bark, and a few partially sawed logs. The machinery had all been
removed.

There was great danger of falling through into the swirling torrent
beneath, for in several places the flooring lacked entire planks, and
those that remained were loose and rotten.

The light of the candle revealed a rickety flight of steps in the upper
right hand corner, and without hesitation the boys mounted to the
second floor. This apartment was in remarkably good condition. Not a
drop of rain had penetrated through the roof or sides.

The floor was strewn with sawdust and shavings. A carpenter's bench
stood on each side, and in the center was a huge old-fashioned sheet
iron stove, with a pipe running straight to the roof. The room was
lighted by three windows--one at each end, and one on the side facing
the creek.

"This is what I call luck," exclaimed Ned. "A stove ready and waiting
for us, and fuel lying about in plenty! We won't have to endure our wet
clothes long."

"The owner may object to our taking possession, though," said Randy. "We
don't want to get in any more scrapes."

"No one but a crusty old brute would refuse to let us dry ourselves,"
replied Ned. "And besides, I don't believe the owner lives anywhere
within a mile. He probably uses this work room in winter--when there is
hardly any farm work to