there anything Your Majesty has lost? Think again! Will Your Majesty
deign to cast your royal eyes on this?"

He drew from under his buffalo robe what seemed like a long tress of
blond hair, and held it aloft. Polly instantly recognized the missing
scalp of her hapless doll.

"If you please, sir, it's Lady Mary's. She's lost it."

"And lost it--Your Majesty--only to find something more precious. Would
Your Majesty hear the story?"

A little alarmed, a little curious, a little self-anxious, and a
little induced by the nudges and pinches of her companions, the Queen
blushingly signified her royal assent.

"Enough. Bring refreshments. Will Your Majesty prefer wintergreen,
peppermint, rose, or acidulated drops? Red or white? Or perhaps Your
Majesty will let me recommend these bull's-eyes," said the leader, as
a collection of sweets in a hat were suddenly produced from the barrel
labeled "Gunpowder" and handed to the children.

"Listen," he continued, in a silence broken only by the gentle sucking
of bull's-eyes. "Many years ago the old Red Rovers of these parts locked
up all their treasures in a secret cavern in this mountain. They used
spells and magic to keep it from being entered or found by anybody, for
there was a certain mark upon it made by a peculiar rock that stuck out
of it, which signified what there was below. Long afterwards, other Red
Rovers who had heard of it came here and spent days and days trying to
discover it, digging holes and blasting tunnels like this, but of no
use! Sometimes they thought they discovered the magic marks in the
peculiar rock that stuck out of it, but when they dug there they found
no treasure. And why? Because there was a magic spell upon it. And what
was that magic spell? Why, this! It could only be discovered by a person
who could not possibly know that he or she had discovered it; who never
could or would be able to enjoy it; who could never see it, never feel
it, never, in fact, know anything at all about it! It wasn't a dead man,
it wasn't an animal, it wasn't a baby!"

"Why," said Polly, jumping up and clapping her hands, "it was a Dolly."

"Your Majesty's head is level! Your Majesty has guessed it!" said the
leader, gravely. "It was Your Majesty's own dolly, Lady Mary, who broke
the spell! When Your Majesty came down the slide, the doll fell from
your gracious hand when your foot slipped. Your Majesty recovered Lady
Mary, but did not observe that her hair had caught in