"Good for you, Jeb. You are a young man of resource and ingenuity. You'll make a good scout. How's this for a ball?" The stout youth held up a rounded bowlder, which must have weighed at least four pounds. "Oh, rats! Say, what do you want to do--brain us?" "Couldn't," responded Tubby enigmatically. "Couldn't what?" "Brain you." "Why?" "Haven't got any." "Any what?" "B-r-a-i-n-s, brains!" yelled Tubby, retreating to a safe distance. "I have it!" exclaimed Rob suddenly. "What, the pip?" "No, an idea," responded the boy recklessly, forgetting his own comments on Tubby's inspiration. "Ho! ho! ho!" howled the stout youth delightedly. "Step up, ladies and gentlemen, and see the eighth--or ninth wonder of the world--Rob Blake has an idea. Step up lively now, before the little creature gets away." "We can borrow some potatoes from Soapy Sam," said Rob, when some of the laughter at his expense had subsided. "Borrow them?" exclaimed Bill Simmons. "I guess it will mean giving them. What I couldn't do to a potato with this bat----" He flourished the piece of lumber Jeb Cotton had shaped, as he spoke. However, Rob's suggestion was tried; but even as Bill Simmons had prophesied, the borrowed potatoes did not prove a success as baseballs. One after another, they were scattered into tiny fragments, and Soapy Sam, on being requisitioned for more, threatened to evict the entire party from his premises. "Oh, pshaw!" exclaimed Tubby petulantly. "What'll we do?" "Go swimming," laughed Merritt. "I have it," exclaimed Rob suddenly. "He's got it again--a relapse of ideas," grinned Tubby. "What's the matter with climbing that cliff and exploring those old cave dwellings?" "Great!" was the unanimous verdict. Privately, one or two of the boys who had heard the ghost legend, were not quite as eager as they seemed to be, to traverse the mysterious passages and tomb-like dwellings of a vanished race, but they didn't say so. "It's about three hours to sundown. We'll have to shake a leg to get up there and back," said Frank Price. Acting on this advice, no time was lost in making a start. "Have we all got revolvers?" asked Rob suddenly. "Sure," responded Jeb Cotton. "I brought mine when I heard that it was a stampede we were called out on." The others had done likewise. "Say," put in Tubby gloomily, as they set out, "what's the good of taking guns with us?" "Why, you never know what you'll run into in a cave," said Bill Simmons. "Huh, I never heard of guns being any good against ghosts," chillily remarked the fat youth. "Well, you're a nice cheerful soul, you are," burst out Rob. "Are you scared?" "Oh, no; I'm not. Go ahead and rout your ghosts out. Stir 'em up, and make 'em jump through the hoops and back again. Fine!" exploded Tubby. "Whatever is the matter with him?" asked Merritt, looking about for an answer. "That idea he had a while back has gone to his head," laughed Harry. And such was the general opinion.