Then began a busy time, which was hardly ended when from the path along the lake shore came a hail: “Wo-he-lo ahoy!” “It’s the boys!” exclaimed Mabel. “Dogwood camp!” answered Marie. “‘Come into my garden, Maude!’” invited Blake. “He means come for a ride,” added Phil. “We’re too busy,” declared Mrs. Bonnell. “We’ll help you,” offered Jack. “Come! It’s too fine a day to stay around camp. We’ll take you to the haunted mill.” “It doesn’t sound so scary in daylight,” spoke Natalie, as the three lads came up the path from the water. “Any more foxes?” asked Blake. “Thank goodness no.” “Come on, boys. Wood and water; and help fill the lanterns and oil stove!” suggested Jack. “Then they’ll come with us,” and soon they had completed the harder tasks of the camp. Then they helped the girls arrange their cots and trunks differently so as to give more room, put up some boxes to serve as cupboards and storage places, and did other small services that were much appreciated. “Will you trust yourselves in the launch?” asked Jack, when they were ready to set out. “Will it blow up?” asked Marie. “No, but it may stop in the middle of the lake. But we can paddle back.” “I’ll go,” offered Natalie. “I want to see the ancient mill and the hermit thereof.” “Old Hanson may not be in,” suggested Phil. “He’s always tramping off around the country. But we can look over his shack.” Soon the merry party was in the launch, which, though it was a bit wheezy, like some old man with the asthma, still went along at good speed. They talked, laughed and sang, and finally reached a small dock, near which, according to the boys, was located the old mill. “It used to grind the grist for the country round about here,” explained Phil, as they took a woodland path, so narrow that they had to walk Indian file. “Then it was on a stream that used to run into the lake. But the stream seems to have dried up to a mere ditch, and the old mill is in ruins.” “Why didn’t I bring my camera!” exclaimed Natalie. “I love to snap old ruins.” “You’ll have plenty of chances,” said Blake. “We’ll be here all summer, as we hope you will.” “We may, if the foxes leave us alone,” answered Mrs. Bonnell. “Though I have plenty more of ammonia.” “Put some talcum powder in next time,” urged Marie with a laugh. They tramped on for some little time longer, gradually ascending from the level of the lake, until they turned from a dense patch of woodland into a little glade. Then the ruined mill confronted them. “Oh, isn’t it lovely!” exclaimed Marie. “A perfect dream,” declared Mabel. “So romantic,” was Natalie’s opinion. “Oh, why did I leave my camera in the tent? I must have a picture of that!”