“Well, when old Wallace went off the way he did,” remarked Tom, “I didn’t think it would be necessary, but perhaps we’d better do it.” “I’ll stand guard,” volunteered Dick, and he took his position a little distance from the old doorway, where he could have a good view about the mill. Tom and his chums were busy sounding the walls, though they had not discovered anything, when there came a hail from Dick. “Someone’s coming!” he cried. “Better get away.” “Lively, fellows!” cried Tom, stuffing the plan in his pocket. “It may be old Wallace!” They raced for the door, and had hardly emerged from it, to join Dick, before they saw, coming along the path he had taken a short time before, the old hermit. For a moment he did not see them, but when Jack, who could not move quite as fast as the others, stepped on a stick which broke with a loud snap, the old man looked up and beheld the intruders. For a moment he stood transfixed, and then, rushing forward he cried: “Ha! So you dare to come here; do you? Oh, if I had but known, I’d have been ready for you. I’ve got a dungeon that’s just yawning for such as you. How dare you trespass on my property?” “Don’t answer,” advised Tom, in a low voice. “Come on.” His chums lost no time in obeying, but if they thought they were going to get off without a chase they were mistaken. “I’ll have the law on you!” cried the angry old man. “I’ll see if you can come here trying to take my treasure from me! I’ll take the law into my own hands if worst comes to worst!” Then he started toward them, his gun much in evidence. “Hit up the pace, boys!” Tom exclaimed. “This fellow may be a poor shot, but he doesn’t know what he is doing, and it won’t do to take chances. Run! I’ll give you an arm, Jack.” He helped his chum, and the others hurried on, while the white-haired hermit, muttering threats, followed as fast as he could. CHAPTER XVI STRANDED “Say, he can travel some!” exclaimed Dick, looking back over his shoulders when they had gone some distance. The hermit was still crashing through the underbrush after them. “He sure can!” agreed Tom. “I would hardly believe that a man as old as he seems to be could be so spry on his feet.” “He’s probably lived in the woods all his life,” explained Jack, as he limped along, “and he’s like an Indian. Are we getting away from him?” “Well, we’re holding our own,” said Tom, as he looked back. “My! but he’s a savage-looking chap, though.” On hurried the boys, anxious only, for the time being, to get to their boat and leave the angry hermit far behind. “Wait ’till I catch you! Wait ’till I get hold of you!” the old man cried. “Young rapscallions! trying to do me out of the treasure I have looked for so long. Wait ’till I get you!” “I hope he never does,” murmured Dick. “That’s right,” agreed Bert. They had come, now, to the path leading along the edge of the river, and it was easier traveling for them. So, also, it was for the hermit, and he made better speed too.