me one more'n
once; to count them rooms would take an expert, which I ain't--not at
counting. I don't reckon, though, that there was so awful many.
Anyway, not more than fifteen or twenty. But as I say, I couldn't
rightly make a guess, even; or I'd hate to. Ruins don't interest me
much, though I was kinda surprised to run acrost that one, all right,
and I'm willing to gamble there was warm and exciting times down there
when the place was in running order. I'd kinda like to have been down
there then. Last fall, though, there wasn't nothing to get excited
over, except getting out uh there."

"A castle away out here! Just think, good people, what that means!
Romance, adventure and scientific discoveries! We must go right down
there and explore the place. Why can't we start at once--in the
morning? This gentleman can guide us to the place, and--"

"It ain't easy going," Andy remarked, conscientiously. "It's pretty
rough; some places, you'd have to walk and lead your horses."

They swept aside the discouragement.

"We'd need pick and shovels, and men to dig," cried one enthusiast.
"Uncle Peter can lend us some of his men. There may be treasure to
unearth. There may be _anything_ that is wonderful and mysterious. Get
busy, Uncle Peter, and get your outfit together; you've boasted that a
roundup can beat the army in getting under way quickly, now let us
have a practical demonstration. We want to start by six o'clock--all
of us, with a cook and four or five men to do the excavating. Bring it
to pass!" It was the voice of the girl whom her friends spoke of as
"The life of the party;" the voice of the-girl-who-does-things.

"It's sixty-five miles from here, good and strong--and mostly up and
down," put in Andy.

"'Quoth the raven,'" mocked the-girl-who-does-things. "We are prepared
to face the ups-and-downs. Do we start at six, Uncle Peter?"

Uncle Peter glanced sideways at the roundup boss. To bring it to pass,
he would be obliged to impress the roundup cook and part of the crew.
It was breaking an unwritten law of the rangeland, and worse, it was
doing something unbusiness-like and foolish. But not even the owner of
the Rocking R may withstand the pleading of a pretty woman. Uncle
Peter squirmed, but he promised:

"We start at six; earlier if you say so."

The roundup boss gave his employer a look of disgust and walked away;
the crew took it that he went off to some secluded place to swear.

Thereafter there was muc