The sun felt pleasant to him and, after he had sat there a few minutes, he began to lose interest in a nearer acquaintance with the river. Instead of going on in that direction, he decided, he would turn to the left and try to reach the road. Doubtless Bob and Martin and the others would be returning before very long. Turning his gaze southward, he became aware of the fact that he was not alone. Some two hundred yards away a figure was approaching, a figure which appeared at first glance to be that of a man wearing a dark green sweater and advancing up the slope at a strangely deliberate pace. A second look, however, showed that the person was a boy of perhaps eighteen years and that as he walked he held the end of a forked stick in each hand and was oblivious to all else. He was a tall and rather heavy youth with extremely long legs that moved with machine-like precision and regularity over the grass. His slightly bent head prevented a clear sight of his face, but Willard thought he recognized the boy as one he had glimpsed once or twice about school. Why he should be pacing along here a mile from home, however, a Y-shaped branch in his hand, was a mystery, and Willard watched curiously as he came nearer and nearer. CHAPTER IX M’NATT ON SCIENCE The boy in the green sweater, if left to his own devices, would have passed Willard some fifteen feet away, but curiosity got the better of the latter and when the other was opposite to him he spoke. “Hello,” he said. The fellow stopped, turned his head and viewed the boy on the stone wall, quite without surprise, for a long moment. Then he shifted his gaze to the forked stick that he still held extended before him and shook his head slowly. “I suppose I haven’t got the power,” he remarked thoughtfully. “What power?” asked Willard. “Why, the power, or whatever you like to call it, to make this thing work. Have you ever tried it?” “I don’t know what you’re doing,” answered Willard, getting down from the wall. “What’s the branch for?” “Haven’t you ever seen a water-finder?” Willard shook his head, puzzled. “Well, you take a piece of witch-hazel or willow--some say alder or ash will do--and hold it like this by the top branches and walk over the ground. When you come to a place where there’s water below, the lower end there will tilt downwards. I’ve seen it done twice.” “Oh, I’ve heard of that, but I never saw it tried,” answered Willard interestedly. “I supposed it was just nonsense. Did you ever see it succeed?” The other nodded soberly. “Both times. Old Man Hildreth, back home, did it twice one time for my father, and when we dug where he told us to we came to water. One time it was a regular spring that we found and the other time it was more like a well. I mean we had to dig pretty far down before we came to the water. Old Man Hildreth used witch-hazel, and that’s what I’ve got here. I had to hunt nearly an hour before I found any.”