CHAPTER XII
THE PIECE OF PAPER
Anxiously did Tom's chums watch his movements. They realized, as didhe, that the piece of paper, dropped either by Mr. Skeel or the hermit,might give them the very clew they needed to locate the treasure--ifthere was any. And they also realized the danger if Tom was seen.
"If they catch him, it will be all up with our chances, I guess,"murmured Bert. "We'll have to leave here mighty soon."
"That's right. With that old professor, the hermit, and those two ladsagainst us, we wouldn't have much chance," added Dick.
"Oh, you fellows make me tired!" exclaimed Jack. "Why, it's only fourto four, and if we aren't a match for that bunch I'd like to know it!Get out of here? I guess not much! We'll stick!" Jack was like Tom--hebelieved in fighting to the last ditch. "Besides," he went on, "as Tomsaid, the woods are as much ours as they are those other fellows'."
"But the mill, and the land around it, aren't," returned Bert. "Theycould keep us away from here."
"Maybe, and maybe not," said Jack. "I guess Tom Fairfield can find someplan for getting around it. What's he doing now?" for our hero wassomewhat screened from the observation of Jack, though the others couldsee him well.
"He's crawling forward again," spoke Bert in a low tone. "I guess thecoast is clear. I hope he gets that piece of paper."
"What good will it be?" asked Dick.
"Some good, you can wager, or Skeel and the hermit wouldn't have beenso excited over it," declared Jack. "I'd like to get a look at it."
"Tom'll get it all right," insisted Bert. "He generally does getanything he goes after."
The three lads waited impatiently for the return of their chum. Dicktook another look, and reported that Tom was not in sight now.
"He's probably working his way along the path to the place where thetalk went on," was Jack's opinion.
They resigned themselves to waiting, talking meanwhile of what mighthappen. Then, interrupting their talk, came a sound as of someoneapproaching down the slope.
"Who is it?" asked Jack eagerly, for he had been sitting down on astone to ease the pain of his injured leg.
"It's Tom all right!" exclaimed Dick, who was acting as sentinel.
"Has he got the paper?"
"Yes, there's something white in his hand."
"Good!" exclaimed Tom's college roommate.
A few seconds later our hero rejoined his chums. There was a look ofsatisfaction on his face.
"What is it?" demanded Bert eagerly.
"I don't know yet," was the reply. "It's all folded up, and I didn'topen it. Didn't want to take the time. There's no telling when theymight miss it, and come back. I made tracks as soon as I saw I couldsafely advance and grab it up. Come on down to the boat."
"Go slow," begged Jack, and they helped him down the slope. Not takingtime to examine the bit of paper, Tom loosed the mooring line of hiscraft, and, pushing her out into the current, he let her drift downbefore starting the motor, as he did not want their enemies to hear thenoise of the exhaust.
"I guess it's safe enough now," spoke Jack, after a bit, from hisposition on a cushioned seat in the stern, his stiff leg stretched outin front of him. "Turn on the gas, Tom, and start her off."
This was done, and soon the _Tag_ was making good time down the rivertoward the lake.
"What about the feed?" asked Bert. "Seems to me we've earned it now,Tom."
"Let's look at that paper first," suggested Jack. "That's more importantthan feeding our faces."
"Here it is," spoke Tom, producing it from his pocket, while Dick tookthe wheel.
Eagerly the others looked over the shoulder of our hero as he unfoldedthe paper. It proved to be quite large, being of thin but tough fabric,and it was creased into many folds, as though it had been intended tooccupy a small space. It was covered with lines, words and figures.
"An architect's plan! Nothing but a plan!" exclaimed Jack.
"That's all," added Bert in disappointed tones.
"Maybe they didn't drop it at all," suggested Dick. "It may have beenthere all the while, and they didn't bother to pick it up. I don't seewhat good it is, though."
Tom said nothing for a space. He was intently studying the sketch.
"Chuck it overboard," spoke Dick.
"No, mail it back to Skeel, and tell him how we found it," was Bert'ssuggestion. "It'll show him how close we are on his trail."
"I'll do neither," answered Tom quietly. "We're going to keep thispiece of paper for ourselves."
"Can you make head or tail of it?" asked Jack.
"I fancy I can," answered our hero. "I think this is a detail drawingof the floor plans of the old mill, and I believe it may be the key tothe location of the treasure--or at least the place where the treasureis supposed to be."
"You do?" cried his chums in a chorus.
"I sure do," replied Tom, with conviction. "And I'm sure either Skeel,or the hermit, dropped this. It wasn't there on the path before theyheld their confab, and neither Sam nor Nick was near the spot where thepaper lay. Boys, I believe we've got a valuable clue here!"
"Let's see it," requested Jack, and Tom passed it over. His chum gazedat it thoughtfully, turned it around, and peered at it upside down.Then he remarked, as he passed it back: "Well, if you can make anythingout of that, Tom, you're a good one. What does it say?"
"That I don't know yet," spoke our hero. "It's going to take somestudying to ferret this thing out, but we'll do it. Meanwhile we'lljust forget all about it for a little while, and have some grub. Getbusy, fellows, and have dinner."
They ate with exceedingly good appetites, while the motorboat speeded onher way toward the lake. Between bites they talked of their experience,and kept a lookout for any possible signs of their former professor,his cronies and the hermit.
"It must be that there are short cuts through these woods that we knownothing about," said Tom, "or otherwise they never could have beenon the ground at the same time we were, from where we last saw them.Still, I don't think they can get ahead of us this time."
And this was so, or, at least, our friends saw nothing of the four whomthey were trying to circumvent.
"Well, I know one thing," declared Jack with a grunt. "I'll be gladwhen we get back to camp, and I can rub some liniment on this leg ofmine."
"It's too bad," consoled Tom. "I hope you're not laid up with it."
They emerged from the river into the peaceful lake and in due time wereback at camp, without further incident having occurred.
"Oh, wow! but I'm stiff!" cried Jack, as he attempted to leave the boat.
"Wait, we'll give you a hand up," said Tom, and they had to assist himmuch more than they had previously, for a severe stiffness had set in.However, they got Jack to the tent, and on a cot. Then they proceededto give him such rough and ready treatment as was possible under thecircumstances.
"Well, it feels better, anyhow," said Jack with a sigh of satisfactionas he stretched back. "Now let's have that screed again, Tom, and I'llhave a go at translating it. I don't believe it can be much worse thansome of the Latin stuff old Skeel used to stick us with."
"All right, try your hand at it," agreed Tom. "The rest of us will getthings in shape for the night, and see about supper. How about quail ontoast for you, Jack?" he asked with a whimsical smile as he handed overthe mysterious piece of paper.
"Nothing doing. I want roast turkey and cranberry sauce, with ice creamand apple pie on the side."
"I think I see you getting it," remarked Bert. "Corned beef and beanswill be about the menu to-night."
While Jack lay back on his cot, easing his injured leg, and studiedthe piece of paper Tom had picked up, the others proceeded to get thecamp to rights for the night. Bert, whose turn it was to cook, startedthe oil stove, and began opening canned stuff. Tom looked to see ifthere was a good supply of wood for the campfire, for, though theydid not really need it, they always lighted one for the sake of thecheerfulness.
"I say," called B
ert, as he went about collecting the various items heneeded for the meal. "What did you do with that piece of bacon, Tom?"
"What piece?"
"The one partly sliced off. I laid it in this box, but it's gone now."
"Is that so?" asked Tom, and there was a curious note in his voice."That's queer. I remember seeing it there when we started off. We'llhave a look."
"Oh, take another piece, and don't delay the meal," suggested Dick witha laugh.
"It isn't that," said Tom. "If things begin to disappear from camp wewant to know about it, and find out who is taking them."
Together with Bert he examined the place where the bacon had been put.This was in a box, fastened about four feet above the ground, in atree. It was a sort of cupboard, thus raised, in which to keep stuffthat was not protected by tins, so that prowling rats, squirrels orchipmunks could not get in. There was a door to it, fastened with awire.
"Was the door opened when you went to get the bacon?" asked Tom.
"Yes," answered Bert, "and I'm sure it was closed when we went away."
Tom stooped down, and began examining the soft ground at the foot ofthe tree. As he did so he uttered an exclamation.
"What is it?" asked Bert, eagerly.
"There's been some animal here," declared Tom. "A fox maybe. I can seethe footprints, but I'm not enough of a naturalist to tell what made'em."
"A bear," suggested Dick.
"I don't believe there are any in these woods, though there may be.It's wild enough."
"Those aren't bear tracks," declared Bert. "I know, for a fellow with adancing bear once went past our house, and it was just after a rain. Inoticed the tracks, and they were as big as a ham. This isn't a bear."
Tom had arisen and was looking at the door of the cupboard.
"The wire fastening has been pulled out of place," he said. "And look!Here are the marks of sharp claws. The wood is all splintered. Somewild beast took our bacon all right!"