ree?" asked Sam, in a low
voice.

"It may be--since they were together when the girls saw them," returned
Dick.

"We ought to have armed ourselves," put in Tom. The boys had no weapons
of any kind.

"Here are some old barrel staves," said Tom. "They are better than
nothing." And he picked up a stave and his brothers followed suit.

With caution the three Rover boys advanced through the old mill, which,
because of the closed doors and dirty windows, was a gloomy place in
spite of the brightness of the day outside. All listened intently, but
not a sound reached their ears, excepting Mr. Marley's voice as he
talked to the restless horses.

"Supposing I call to him?" suggested Dick.

"It can't do any harm," answered Sam.

"Hello, Mr. Crabtree!" sang out Tom, without waiting for his brother.
"Where are you? Why don't you show yourself?"

All waited after this call. But no reply came back, and then Dick and
Sam called.

"He's a bit bashful," was Tom's grinning comment. "Wants to be hauled
out by the coattails, I guess. Come on, we'll soon locate him," and he
started forward.

"Be careful, Tom!" warned his elder brother. "He may set a trap for you!
You know he and Sobber are not to be trusted."

"I've got my eyes open," answered the fun-loving Rover sturdily.

With the barrel staves in hand, the three Rover boys advanced further
and further into the old mill, going from one room to another.
Occasionally they stumbled over bits of lumber and piles of sawdust, for
when the place had been shut down no attempt had been made to clean up.
Even some of the machinery had been left and this was now so rusted that
it was practically unfit for use.

"Say, Mr. Crabtree, why don't you show yourself?" called out Dick. "Are
you afraid?"

"You get out of here!" came the unexpected answer, from a small
toolroom, the door to which was split but tightly closed. "You Rovers
have no right on this property!"

The boys recognized the harsh and dictatorial voice of Josiah
Crabtree,--less pleasant now than it ever had been. They saw the former
teacher glaring at them from the split in the toolroom door.

"Mr. Crabtree, come out here and let us talk to you," said Dick, quietly
but firmly.

"I don't want to talk to you--I want you to leave these premises,"
snarled the man.

"Why should we leave?" asked Tom.

"Because this is my property."

"Your property?" cried Sam. "How so?"

"It was left to me by a distant relative. I wo