battles. I guess the stars don't keep any close tally on Sandtown
folks."

We were speculating on how many times we could count a hundred
before the evening star went down behind the cornfields, when
someone cried, "There comes the moon, and it's as big as a cart
wheel!"

We all jumped up to greet it as it swam over the bluffs behind
us. It came up like a galleon in full sail; an enormous, barbaric
thing, red as an angry heathen god.

"When the moon came up red like that, the Aztecs used to
sacrifice their prisoners on the temple top," Percy announced.

"Go on, Perce. You got that out of Golden Days. Do you
believe that, Arthur?" I appealed.

Arthur answered, quite seriously: "Like as not. The moon was
one of their gods. When my father was in Mexico City he saw the
stone where they used to sacrifice their prisoners."

As we dropped down by the fire again some one asked whether
the Mound-Builders were older than the Aztecs. When we once got
upon the Mound-Builders we never willingly got away from them, and
we were still conjecturing when we heard a loud splash in the
water.

"Must have been a big cat jumping," said Fritz. "They do
sometimes. They must see bugs in the dark. Look what a track the