CHAPTER III.

MILLVILLE HEARS EXCITING NEWS.

Millville is rather difficult to locate on the map, for the railroads
found it impossible to run a line there, _Chazy_ Junction, the nearest
station, is several miles away, and the wagon road ascends the foothills
every step of the distance. Finally you pass between Mount Parnassus
(whoever named it that?) and Little Bill Hill and find yourself on an
almost level plateau some four miles in diameter, with a placid lake in
the center and a fringe of tall pines around the edge. At the South,
where tower the northern sentries of the Adirondacks, a stream called
Little Bill Creek comes splashing and dashing over the rocks to force
its way noisily into the lake. When it emerges again it is humble and
sedate, and flows smoothly to Hooker's Falls, from whence it soon joins
a tributary that leads it to far away Champlain.

Millville is built where the Little Bill rushes into the lake. The old
mill, with its race and sluice-gates, still grinds wearily the scanty
dole of grain fed into its hoppers and Silas Caldwell takes his toll and
earns his modest living just as his father did before him and "Little
Bill" Thompson did before him.

Above the mill a rickety wooden bridge spans the stream, for here the
highway from Chary Junction reaches the village of Millville and passes
the wooden structures grouped on either side its main street on the way
to Thompson's Crossing, nine miles farther along. The town boasts
exactly eleven buildings, not counting the mill, which, being on the
other side of the Little Bill, can hardly be called a part of Millville