“That’s all I know,” replied Mr. Fairfield. “You might see your mother’s friend, Mrs. Henderson, when you get to Wilden, and she may be able to give you some additional particulars.” “She wrote me,” said Mrs. Fairfield, “that the way old Jason Wallace takes on is terrible at times. He rushes around through the woods, yelling at the top of his voice, and whenever he meets people he imagines they are after the treasure in the mill. I do wish, Tom, that you weren’t going to such a place. Can’t you pick out just as good a spot somewhere else, to go camping?” “Oh, no, momsey! This is great! I wouldn’t miss this for anything, and the fellows will think it’s the best ever, I know. I’m going to tell Dick Jones first, and then write to Jack and Bert.” “Well, do be careful,” urged Mrs. Fairfield, who seemed filled with anxiety. “Don’t worry,” advised her husband. “Tom can take care of himself I guess. Why, he even found us when we were shipwrecked, you know.” “Yes, I know. But this is different, up there in the woods, with that crazy creature roaming about. And it’s so lonesome and so far from a town!” “All the better,” laughed Tom. “It’s no fun camping next door to a village. We want to rough it. I’m going to find Dick.” And he hurried off to tell his village chum the good news. CHAPTER III TOM’S CHUMS ARRIVE “Well, Tom, how about it?” greeted Dick, when our hero met him, soon after having heard the details about the old mill and the wild man from Mr. Fairfield. “Is it all right for camp?” “I should say yes, and then some more! Say, Dick, it’s going to be great! Think of it; a mystery to solve, and a wild hermit sort of a chap, roaming around through the woods, looking for your scalp.” “Where’s that?” “Where we’re going camping--where else? Here’s the yarn,” and Tom told it as he had heard it. “How about that?” he asked when he had finished. “Couldn’t be better,” declared Dick enthusiastically. “Have you fixed things with your folks so you can go?” asked Tom. “I sure have.” “Then come on down to the river and we’ll take another spin in the _Tag_. I want to get out on the water, where it’s nice and quiet, and talk about going camping.” “So do I,” agreed Dick, and a little later the two chums were once more chugging away, and talking of everything, from the best way to kill a bear to what to do when the motorboat would not “mote,” as Tom put it. “And we may get some game up there,” said Tom. “This Lake Woonset is away up in the northern part of New York state, and it’s wild there. I’m going to take my gun along.” “So am I,” declared Dick. “When are your other friends coming?” “I’ll get ’em here as soon as I can.” “Say, Tom, maybe they won’t want me to come along.” “Don’t you worry about that,” declared our hero. “I’m in charge of this camping party, and I’ll take whom I please. But they’ll like you all right, Dick, and you’ll like them. That’s sure.” “When do you think you’ll go camping?”