no hint of any human presence was there, no suggestion of life of any
kind, save a companionable windmill nearby, the moving wheel of which
creaked cheerfully as if to assure these scout pilgrims that the scene
of their destination was not altogether deserted. It seemed a kind of
living, friendly thing, in that forlorn surrounding. What surging life
it had witnessed, what hearty, reckless, resolute departures! One might
fancy it saying as it revolved, "I have seen all, seen the boys come and
go, and I alone am left in all this hollow desolation."

The boys paused a moment to watch this lonely sentinel and listen to its
creaking.

"That sound would give me the shudders at night, if I didn't know what
caused it," one of them said.

"Shut your eyes, then listen," said Westy. "It sounds kind of spooky,
huh?"

"Gee whiz, but this is a lonely place," Roy said. "It reminds you of
Broadway, it's so different. It's a peach of a place to camp."

"I bet there are ghosts up here," Pee-wee said darkly.

"Sure, you'd better look around for finger prints," Roy said.

"Maybe that old windmill is haunted, hey?" our young hero suggested.

"It needs oil anyway," Roy said.

"You make me tired," said Pee-wee contemptuously. "A ghost can squeak,
can't it?"

"Sure," said Roy, "if it's rusty."

But for all their banter the old windmill, perhaps because it was the
only thing stirring, held them and sobered their thoughts as it would
not have done elsewhere. Perhaps they felt a sort of consciousness of
its lonely position and fancied it to be something human. It overlooked
the obscure path along which they had come; how many forms in khaki had
it seen stealing to or from the camp? A. W. O. L. How many truckloads of
uproarious boys had it seen driven away? How many maimed and suffering
brought back? Surely it had seen much that the most loyal citizens had
not been permitted to see. A whimsical thought, perhaps, but what good
fun it would be to climb up there and learn some dark and tragic secrets
from this lonely old derelict, the only thing with any sign of life that
Uncle Sam had left in that forlorn, deserted spot.

Had it any tragic secret? That seemed quite absurd. A creaky old
windmill revolving to no purpose in that waste, because it had nothing
else to do.

"_Listen!_" said Pee-wee. "Sh-h-h! I heard a noise--up there."

Captivated for the moment by their own mood, they all paused, listening.
Then, not far off, a friendly