hen the only sound they heard was the noisy scolding of the water
as it went over the spill or apron of the stout dam that had stood all
these long years, defying floods and the ravages of time.

And somehow, there was something chilling in the very lonesome character
of their surroundings.

Of the ten scouts present, Chatz seemed to be the only one who did not
look solemn. There was an eager glow in the Southern boy's dark eyes, as
though the situation appealed to that element of superstition in his
nature.

And Elmer, noting this expression, that was almost of glee, knew that
when the companions of Chatz fondly believed they had cured him of his
silly faith in ghosts and such things, they had made a mistake. The
snake had only been "scotched," not killed. It was already awakening
again, under the first favorable conditions.

"Say, this ain't any part of the game, is it?" demanded Red.

"Yes, you don't expect us to guess what's become of Nat, and then find
him grinning at us, perhaps astraddle of a limb up in a big tree?"
remarked Larry.

"I asked these fellows," said Elmer, seriously, "and both Toby and Ty
gave me their word of honor that no game or joke was set up between
them. If Nat is playing a prank then he's doing it on his own account."

"And Nat ain't generally the fellow to think of playing a joke on his
chums," declared Larry.

"Gee, this is getting wild and woolly now!" remarked Landy; "I'm all of
a tremble. What if the poor fellow fell over this dam here, struck his
head on a rock, and lies right now at the bottom of that black pool
where the foam keeps on circling around and around. Ugh! It makes me
shiver, fellows, honest and truly."

George, as usual, scoffed at the idea of anything having happened to Nat
Scott.

"He'll show up as soon as he feels like it, make sure of that," he
declared.

"Have you called him!" asked Matty.

"Yes, all of us did," replied Lil Artha, whose customary rollicking good
nature seemed subdued in a measure for once.

"And he didn't answer?" demanded Chatz.

"We never heard a word, and that's a fact, boys," declared Toby Jones,
uneasily.

Then they all looked around again, their eyes naturally roving in the
quarter where, near the farther end of the dam, the old mill stood.

Its day was long since past. The great water wheel at the end of the
sluice had partly fallen to pieces with the passage of time and the
ravages of neglect. What was left seemed to be al