“Another thing,” went on Jack. “If we’re near the mill, so are those fellows. So you see----” “By Jove!” cried Tom. “I shouldn’t be surprised but what you were right, Jack. This man Skeel would be up to any proposition to make money, and he may, as you say, have heard the rumor of treasure in the old mill.” “How do you account for him meeting Sam and Nick?” asked Bert. “Oh, it probably just happened,” suggested Tom. “If they are camping near here, and Skeel is doing the same thing, it’s not out of reason that they should meet. Well, if they’re after the treasure in the old mill I don’t see what’s to prevent us having a go for the same thing.” “If Old Wallace will let us,” put in Bert. “Oh, well, we’ll have to take a chance with him,” said Tom. “We’ll have to wait until he’s away from home, which he seems to be most of the time.” “And if we get the treasure, what will we do with it?” inquired Dick. “Wait until we do,” laughed Tom. “I don’t believe there is one chance in a thousand of there being any treasure there, and if there is, it’s a hundred to one shot that we can’t find it, nor can anyone else. But it will be fun to have a go for it.” “And if we do find it,” put in Jack, “we’ll all take a trip to Europe.” “No,” spoke Tom, quietly, “if we do find any treasure, it will have to go to the one who owns it--the old hermit, very likely.” “Oh pshaw!” cried Jack. “After the mean way he treated us, Tom?” “Sure. Right is right. But say, don’t let’s get into an argument over such a remote possibility. Wait until we get to the mill, and have a look around. I’m an expert on buried treasure, and I can tell, as soon as I see a place, what the prospects are,” and Tom’s chums joined in his hearty laugh. “Well, speed up,” suggested Jack, “and we’ll see what sort of an Eldorado lies before us. Westward ho!” and he struck a dramatic attitude. Tom turned on more gasolene and advanced the spark, so that the _Tag_ shot ahead. There was no further sign of Professor Skeel and the two boys. “There’s the river!” exclaimed Bert, about a quarter of an hour later, as the boat went around a bend, and they came into view of a stream flowing into the lake. It was as wild and picturesque as the lake itself, with big trees on either bank, overhanging the water in places. “Say, that’s great!” cried Tom. “I’m going to get some pictures of that. Take the wheel, Jack, while I get out my camera.” Tom was soon snapping away, getting a number of fine views, while with Jack at the wheel, and Dick to watch the motor, the _Tag_ swept slowly into the river. The current was not strong at this point, and it was possible to slow down to half speed, as the lads did not know the character of the water, nor how much depth there was, though the _Tag_ did not draw more than two feet. “Let’s see who’ll spot the old mill first,” proposed Tom, as he adjusted his camera to take more pictures when the ruin should be sighted.