had confidently expected to find Moxley sound asleep, and instead of
that the fellow was sitting upright with his gun across his knees, and
his bottle in one hand. Perhaps the splash made by Ned's drop into the
wasteway had wakened him without arousing his supicions. He had no
present intention of going to sleep, for he moved a little closer to the
light of the lantern, and filled his pipe.

For a moment Ned felt the disappointment keenly. He knew what a severe
blow it must be to his companions. It was out of the question to rescue
them now, for Moxley was directly between the door and the closet.

Ned had been so sure of effecting his plan without hindrance, that it
had not occurred to him what step to take in case of failure. But a
brief consideration of matters raised his spirits, and he resolved to
seek the nearest farmhouse and obtain help.

"That is a far better plan anyhow," he reflected with satisfaction.
"Moxley will be captured, and we will recover our watches and money. And
we won't have to start down this flooded creek in the dark, either, I
must be quick, though, for Moxley might happen to open the closet and
discover my absence. I wish there was some way of letting the boys know
what I am going to do."

This was manifestly impossible, so Ned crawled away from the door and
crossed the sluice to the foot of the hill. He could not withstand the
temptation to go up the creek and have a look at the canoes.

He found them all safely out of reach of the flood, for Moxley was too
shrewd a man to let them go adrift, and perhaps cause an investigation
that would frustrate his plans.

As Ned was turning away his eye caught a sudden gleam from the cockpit
of Clay's canoe, and on making an investigation he was surprised to find
Randy's gun. Moxley must have overlooked it.

The weapon was useless, for the ammunition had been carried off, but Ned
shouldered it and started briskly down the creek. At the sluiceway he
found a well trodden footpath, and followed it along the rear side of
the mill, and thence by the base of the hill to a wagon road which began
abruptly at the edge of the wasteway, where there was no doubt a fording
to the opposite neck of land.

Ned concluded that the road led to the home of the man who owned the
mill, and he was about starting off in haste when his eyes fell on a
boat that protruded from a clump of bushes a few yards down the shore.

On going close he recognized it instantly by the