For a moment the lad stood there at the flap of the tent, pondering over the situation. He realized that he might have a desperate character to deal with--a man who would not listen to reason, and who was impulsive, as evidenced by his leap into the water after the motorboat. “But I’ve got to do something,” thought Tom. “If I don’t he may take a shot at us, not meaning to do any harm, but just because he’s erratic. And that sort of a bullet does just as much harm as any other. If he should fire into the tent----” Tom did not finish out his thought, for at that moment there was a movement on the part of the old man. He had been standing still, silently regarding the camp, and now he again advanced. “He’s going to see what sort of a place we have here,” mused Tom. “I wonder if I’d better awaken the boys?” He thought it over for a moment and then decided that perhaps he could best deal with the old man alone. “But how?” he asked himself. Tom watched the hermit. He came on with a tread like that of a cat--silently--stealthily--peering from side to side. At times he muttered to himself. “I’ll see if I can take him by surprise,” decided Tom. Stepping back, where he could not be seen, inside the tent, our hero suddenly yelled: “Get out of here! What are you doing in our camp? Be off before I set the dogs on you!” The old man was evidently startled. He stiffened as he stood, but Tom was glad to see that he did not bring the gun to bear. From under the shaggy eyebrows the hermit gazed about him as if to determine whence came the voice. But if Tom had any idea that he could frighten the man into going away he was mistaken. For the hermit of the mill came forward until he stood directly in front of the big tent, and then, straightening up, he fairly shouted: “Ha! I have found you; have I? Those who brought their infernal puffing engine on my lake. Now you are in my woods. I have been looking for you. I warn you away! You must leave at once! I will not be cheated out of my fortune this way. Leave my woods or it will be the worse for you!” and he shook his fist at Tom, who had now stepped into view at the flap of the tent. “Hello! What’s the row?” called Jack, suddenly awakening. “Is the camp on fire?” asked Dick. “What’s wrong, Tom?” cried Bert, and all three of our hero’s chums sprang from their cots and crowded around him. “It’s our old friend the hermit of the mill,” explained Tom in a low voice. “He’s come to drive us out of the woods.” “What are you going to do?” asked Jack. “I don’t know. Let’s see what he does.” “He may be dangerous,” commented Dick. “And these may be his woods,” added Bert. “Nonsense,” declared Tom. “I asked dad about it before I came up, and he said this part of the forest belonged to a big lumber company that was holding it for the trees to get bigger before cutting. This old man doesn’t own it any more than we do.” “Then you’re going to stick?” “I sure am!”