"I never sent nobody," Andy defended. "You was all crazy to go."

"And nothing but an old stone hut some trapper had built!" came an
indignant, female tone. "There never was any castle, nor--"

"A man's home is his castle," argued Andy, standing unabashed before
them. "Putting it that way, it was a castle, all right."

There was babel, out of which--

"And the skeleton! Oh, you--it was a dead _cow!_" This from the young
old lady, who was looking very draggled and not at all young.

"I don't call to mind ever saying it was human," put in Andy, looking
at her with surprised, gray eyes.

"And the battlements!" groaned the-girl-who-does-things.

"You wanted battlements," Andy flung mildly into the uproar. "I always
aim to please." With that he edged away from them and made his escape
to where the cook was profanely mixing biscuits for supper. All-day
moves put an edge to his temper. The cook growled an epithet, and Andy
passed on. Down near the stable he met one of the chosen half, and the
fellow greeted him with a grin. Andy stopped abruptly.

"Say, they don't seem none too agreeable," he began tentatively,
jerking his thumb toward the buzzing group. "How about it, Sandy? Was
they that petulant all the way?"

Sandy, the map-bearer, chuckled. "It's lucky you got hurt at the last