The interruption annoyed Old Stony. “This place I’m telling you about you’ve never read of,” he said, “and you never will because it’s a place hard to reach even today. My podner and I gave it the name of Headless Hollow.

“There’s a way in if you know the trail and can stand hardships. There’s no way out except the way in. It’s in an out-of-the way valley, rimmed by canyons, hard by a little lake no bigger’n a tin cup. To get there you back-pack over miles o’ rock so steep it makes me dizzy to think of ’em.”

“But you found gold?” prompted War.

“Ay, we found it, and a heap o’ trouble. Here, let me show you something.”

Abruptly Old Stony dug a polished nugget from his pants pocket. Even in the poor lamplight, the color of gold was there.

“Wow!” War exclaimed, breathing heavily. “That makes my sample look like peanuts.”

“This nugget came from Headless Hollow?” Jack asked, relishing the old man’s tale.

Stony sucked at his pipe as he carefully replaced the metal in his wrinkled overalls.

Without answering, he resumed: “I was a young fellow in those days, strong as an ox. If it wasn’t for my bad heart and some other things, I’d go back there now and make my fortune.”

“Where is this valley of gold?”

“I can’t tell you, son. But there are men who would pay me well to know my secret.”

“If you found gold,” Jack asked, “why did you leave the valley?”

“Don’t ask me that question, son. My past is my own and, God willing, it will die with me.”

The old man turned suddenly in his rocking chair.

Unnoticed by the Explorers, a tall man in his thirties, with a rock-like, expressionless face, had come to the open doorway. Ignoring the Scouts, he spoke directly to Stony.

“Crawl out, you lazy old buzzard! The man in No. 4 wants fresh towels.”

Stony got heavily from his chair. He made no answer, but the sparkle of life had vanished from his ruddy face.

Ill at ease, the Explorers started to leave. As if by design, the motel owner walked with them a 

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