“Perhaps they took to the river again,” suggested Sam.

“It is not likely,” answered his big brother.  “But we can take a look.”

They ran around to where the men had landed.  Their boat was still in its place, tied to a tree.

“Listen!” cried Sam “Somebody’s shouting, and there is a light.”

“It is Jack Ness,” said Tom.

The boys set up an answering shout, and soon a boat came up to the shore.  It contained the hired man and the two Ditwolds.  They had a lantern with them and also an old fashioned single barrel shotgun.

The situation was quickly explained, and then the party of six began a systematic search of the woods and the various roads in the vicinity of Henderson’s mill.  This search lasted until morning, but nothing came of it.

“We may as well give up,” said Dick, at last.  “They have gotten away and that is all there is to it.”

The boys were completely tired out when they got home.  Their uncle and aunt were much worried over their prolonged absence and overjoyed to see them return unharmed.

“I was so afraid one of you might get shot or something,” said Mrs. Rover.  “Some of those, chickens thieves are desperate characters.”

“Those men were more than chicken thieves,” answered Dick.  And he told his uncle and aunt of the conversation overheard at the old mill.

“It is a great pity that they got away,” said Randolph Rover.

“What do you imagine they are after, Uncle Randolph?” questioned Sam.

“I do not know, excepting it may be some mining stocks or a deed to some property.  Perhaps your father will be able to explain it when he gets back.”

The authorities were notified, but they failed to apprehend the men.  It was learned that the boat they had used had been stolen from, a point near Oak Run, and the craft was returned to its owner.  That they had used the old mill for a stopping place was evidenced by the remains of numerous meals found there.  The boys made a careful search of the premises, but brought nothing to light which was of use to them.

“I wish father was home—­or we knew how to reach him by telephone, or with a telegram,” remarked Dick.

“Well, we can’t reach him, so we’ll have to be patient until he returns,” answered Sam.  “By the way, I wonder if his going away had anything to do with what those men were up to?”

“It might be so,” returned Dick, slowly.  “Both happenings are queer, to say the least.”

“I wish I knew what father has in mind to do,” came from Tom.  “I hope we take some kind of a trip.  I don’t want to stick on the farm all summer.”