to the College green," he replied, pointing; "then one
square to the right to King George Street, and on out it, across
College Creek, to the Marine Barracks. The road forks there; you turn
to the right; and the bridge is at the foot of the hill."

They thanked him, and rode away.

"He ought to write a guide book," said Croyden.

"How do you know he hasn't?" Macloud retorted. "Well paved
streets,--but a trifle hard for riding."

"And more than a trifle dirty," Croyden added. "My horse isn't so
bad--how's yours?"

"He'll do!--This must be the Naval Academy," as they passed along a
high brick wall--"Yonder, are the Barracks--the Marines are drilling in
front."

They clattered over the creek, rounded the quarters of the
"Hermaphrodites," and saw below them the wide bridge, almost a half a
mile long, which spans the Severn. The draw was open, to let a motor
boat pass through, but it closed before they reached it.

"This is exceptionally pretty!" Macloud exclaimed, drawing rein,
midway. "Look at the high bluff, on the farther shore, with the view up
the river, on one side, and down the Bay, and clear across on the
other.... Now," as they wound up on the hill, "for the first road to
the right."

"This doesn't look promising!" laughed Croyden, as the road swung
abruptly westward and directly away from Greenberry Point.

"Let us go a little farther," said Macloud. "There must be a way--a
bridle path, if nothing better--and, if we must, we can push straight
through the timber; there doesn't seem to be any fences. You see, it
was rational to ride."

"You're a wise old owl!" Croyden retorted.

"Ah!--there's our road!" as one unexpectedly took off to the right,
among the trees, and bore almost immediately eastward. "Come along, my
friend!"

Presently they were startled by a series of explosions, a short
distance ahead.

"What are we getting into?" Macloud exclaimed, drawing up sharply.

"Parmenter's defending his treasure!" said Croyden, with mock
seriousness. "He is warning us off."

"A long way off, then! We must be a mile and more from the Point. It's
some one blasting, I think."

"It wasn't sufficiently muffled," Croyden answered.

They waited a few moments: hearing no further noises, they proceeded--a
trifle cautiously, however. A little further on, they came upon a wood
cutter.

"He doesn't appear at all alarmed," Croyden observed. "What were the
explosions, a minute ago?" he called.

"They weren't