ly along the road to his great
inheritance. Except that they'd never make it and even if they
did, contemporary Man undoubtedly would find some way to do them
in and might eat them in the bargain.

They came out of the woods and there was the cabin, just a hundred
yards away. It crouched against the hillside above the spring,
with the sweep of grassland billowing beyond it to the slate-gray
skyline. A trickle of smoke came up from the chimney and they saw
the door was open.

"Wes oughtn't to leave it open that way," said Cooper. "No telling
when a bear might decide to come visiting."

"Hey, Wes!" yelled Hudson.

But there was no sign of him.

Inside the cabin, a white sheet of paper lay on the table top.
Hudson snatched it up and read it, with Cooper at his shoulder.

Dear guys--I don't want to get your hopes up again and have
you disappointed. But I think I may have found the trouble.
I'm going to try it out. If it doesn't work, I'll come back
and burn this note and never say a word. But if you find the
note, you'll know it worked and I'll be back to get you. Wes.

Hudson crumpled the note in his hand. "The crazy fool!"

"He's gone off his rocker," Cooper said. "He just thought...."

The same thought struck them both and they bolted for the door. At
the corner of the cabin, they skidded to a halt and stood there,
staring at the ridge above them.

The pyramid of rocks they'd built two months ago was gone!

XI

The crash brought Gen. Leslie Bowers (ret.) up out of bed--about
two feet out of bed--old muscles tense, white mustache bristling.

Even at his age, the general was a man of action. He flipped the
covers back, swung his feet out to the floor and grabbed the
shotgun leaning against the wall.

Muttering, he blundered out of the bedroom, marched across the
dining room and charged into the kitchen. There, beside the door,
he snapped on the switch that turned on the floodlights. He
practically took the door off its hinges getting to the stoop and
he stood there, bare feet gripping the planks, nightshirt
billowing in the wind, the shotgun poised and ready.

"What's going on out there?" he bellowed.

There was a tremendous pile of rocks resting where he'd parked his
car. One crumpled fender and a drunken headlight peeped out of the
rubble.

A man was clambering carefully down the jumbled stones, making a
detour to dodge the battered fender.

The general pulled back the