le which surrounded Pirate's Haven on
three sides. That is, he had intended doing something, but now--

"Penny for your thoughts."

"Lady," he answered dismally without turning around, "you can have a
bushel of them for less than that."

"There is a neat expression which describes you beautifully at this
moment," commented Ricky as she came up beside her brother. "Have you
ever heard of a 'sour puss?"

"Several times. Oh, what's the use!" Val kicked at a long twig. A warm
wind brought in its hold the heavy scent of flowering bushes and trees.
His shirt clung to his shoulders damply. It was hot even in the shade of
the oaks. Rupert had gone to town to see LeFleur and hear the worst, so
that Pirate's Haven, save for themselves and Letty-Lou, was deserted.

"Come on," Ricky's arm slid through his, "let's explore. Think of
it--we've been here two whole days and we don't know yet what our back
yard looks like. Rupert says that our land runs clear down into the
swamp. Let's go see."

"But I was going to--" He made a feeble beginning toward stooping for
the pruning-shears.

"Val Ralestone, nobody can work outdoors in this heat, and you know it.
Now come on. Bring those with you and we'll leave them in the carriage
house as we pass it. You know," she continued as they went along the
path, "the trouble with us is that we haven't enough to do. What we need
is a good old-fashioned job."

"I thought we were going to be treasure hunters," he protested
laughingly.

"That's merely a side-line. I'm talking about the real thing, something
which will pay us cash money on Saturday nights or thereabout."

"Well, we can both use a typewriter fairly satisfactorily," Val offered.
"But as you are the world's worst speller and I am apt to become
entangled in my commas, I can't see us the shining lights of any
efficient office. And while we've had expensive educations, we haven't
had practical ones. So what do we do now?"

"We sit down and think of one thing we're really good at doing and
then--Val, what is that?" She pointed dramatically at a mound of brick
overgrown with vines. To their right and left stretched a row of
tumble-down cabins, some with the roofs totally gone and the doors
fallen from the hinges.

"The old plantation bake oven, I should say. This must be what's left of
the slave quarters. But where's the carriage house?"

"It must be around the other side of the big house. Let's try that
direction anyway. But I th