She is meant for higher things," repeated Goodloe Banks.

"Whatever she is meant for," I answered, just now she is out of pocket.
And I shall find her as soon as I can without aid of the colleges."

"The game is blocked," said Goodloe, putting down a domino; and we had
the beer.

Shortly after that a young farmer whom I knew came into town and brought
me a folded blue paper. He said his grandfather had just died. I
concealed a tear, and he went on to say that the old man had jealously
guarded this paper for twenty years. He left it to his family as part of
his estate, the rest of which consisted of two mules and a hypotenuse of
non-arable land.

The sheet of paper was of the old, blue kind used during the rebellion
of the abolitionists against the secessionists. It was dated June
14, 1863, and it described the hiding-place of ten burro-loads of
gold and silver coin valued at three hundred thousand dollars. Old
Rundle--grandfather of his grandson, Sam--was given the information by
a Spanish priest who was in on the treasure-burying, and who died many
years before--no, afterward--in old Rundle's house. Old Rundle wrote it
down from dictation.

"Why didn't your father look this up?" I asked young Rundle.

"He went blind before he could do so," he replied.

"Why didn't you hunt for it yourself?" I asked.

"Well," said he, "I've only known about the paper for ten years. First
there was the spring ploughin' to do, and then choppin' the weeds out of
the corn; and then come takin' fodder; and mighty soon winter was on us.
It seemed to run along that way year after year."

That sounded perfectly reasonable to me, so I took it up with young Lee
Rundle at once.

The directions on the paper were simple. The whole burro cavalcade laden
with the treasure started from an old Spanish mission in Dolores County.
They travelled due south by the compass until they reached the Alamito
River. They forded this, and buried the treasure on the top of a little
mountain shaped like a pack-saddle standing in a row between two higher
ones. A heap of stones marked the place of the buried treasure. All the
party except the Spanish priest were killed by Indians a few days later.
The secret was a monopoly. It looked good to me.

Lee Rundle suggested that we rig out a camping outfit, hire a surveyor
to run out the line from the Spanish mission, and then spend the three
hundred thousand dollars seeing the sights in Fort Worth. But, without
b