“You have no sense of adventure.” Lance gave a disgusted sniff at Adam.

Adam tossed the gym bag back into his closet. “Hey, I ain’t singing nothin’ to nobody! You sing. You’re the one with no inhibitions.” Sufficiently unpacked, he headed back to his living room. “And why is my computer reminding me to feed you every day? I can’t get the darned thing to shut off!”

“Well, be that as it may, we still need to find the particulars before we know what there is to sing and to whom.” Lance ignored Adam’s outburst. He could hear the soft chime coming from Adam’s computer. It would keep doing that until Adam canceled the reminder Lance had programmed. Maybe he shouldn’t have used a password-protected command….

“Why in the world am I getting all this spam?? I paid good money for that program. Look at this! Two hundred messages in the three days we were gone!” Adam took up his mouse to rid his computer of all the unwanted junk mail as he continued to mumble and curse at the Internet.

Lance could have told Adam his spam program had been turned off…. Maybe later. “You have any idea what the Triple R stands for?”

“Reading, writing and ‘rithmetic?”

“Isn’t that usually written as The Three R’s? No, I don’t think that would be it. Where should we start? The Triple R or the Mario Walt named?”

Adam was still deleting emails. He had to go one at a time as they were mixed in with vendor quotes, personal mail, and about fifteen messages from Mrs. Anderson with new ideas for her bathroom.

In a moment of weakness Lance tried to be considerate. “You know, you can set up filters to send different types of email to different folders. One for business, one for pleasure, one for Mrs. Anderson,” as he read some of the messages over Adam’s shoulder. “Then you would know what you had in your inbox and what you needed to read first.”

“Now you’re being helpful?” Adam glanced up as he deleted another twenty spams in a row.

“I’ll admit that watching you work at your computer is fascinating, but we really need to start on the clues. At the speed you’re going, we’ll be here all week.”

Adam knew when he was beat. He got up from his office chair with a resigned sigh. “Show me.”

Stifling his grin, Lance sat at the computer. He brought up the Organize section, made a few folders, created some instant filters, and—nice guy that he was—turned the spam filter back on. Highlighting the messages left in Adam’s inbox, he hit the Reorganize button and everything went to its new home. “Any other folders you need, make them here,” Lance pointed with the mouse, “and then the computer will do the rest.”

“What is that flashing yellow thing?” Adam was looking at an icon on the bottom of his screen.

Lance was all innocence. “That? That looks like your spam filter.”

Eyes narrowed, Adam started to get the picture. “Where was it before? Hey, were you messing with my computer?”

“Now when would I have had the time to do that?” Lance didn’t have a trace of guile on his face. “I’ve been with you either in Missouri or on the job with that delightful Rose.”

“Then where did that reminder to Feed Lance come from and why can’t I get rid of it?”

Lance shrugged and got up from the chair. “I have a different type of computer than your dinosaur. How would I know?”

Adam knew there was no use pointing out that Lance had, in just two minutes, fixed a problem on Adam’s computer that would have taken him hours. “Fine, I’ll figure it out myself.” As Lance walked back to the sofa, Adam could have sworn he heard a mumbled ‘password’, but wasn’t about to ask.

Lance turned his attention to the clue that was sitting on the table along with the Alice script and business card. “Do you think the key words are prospecting and campfire song? They kinda go together.”

“In what way?” His attention was on those flashing, pinging Feed Lance reminders. There were three of them—one for each day they were gone.

Lance raised one shoulder and thought out loud. “Oh, prospecting to me means looking for gold and campfire would be cowboys sitting around after supper swapping stories, or, in this case, a song. Did you read anything about Walt doing any prospecting or being interested in it?”

Not finding an obvious turn-off button for the flashing messages, Adam gave up and sat back in his chair, hands folded on his flat stomach. The chair creaked as he rocked it back and forth, thinking. “No, I can’t say I have read anything like that. I know Lillian’s family was into prospecting, but I don’t know if that would apply to this clue. Their money dried up years ago.”

Lance thought about it a while. “Think it’s worth following up? Or do you think we should take a different approach?”

“Well, think about the diary.” Adam gave a vague gesture toward the hidden safe in the kitchen. “Walt indicated our search would be about things that were important to him when they first happened and were important to him at the time he wrote the diary. I’m not sure if he would go into Lillian’s ancestors, do you?”

“Maybe we should leave that for later in case we come up dry.”

Adam nodded, thoughtful. “Okay with me. You think the main clue is about gold, huh? The only thing I can think of that would remotely relate is the Mineral King Ski area in the Sequoias that he was interested in developing.”

“But it never got finished, did it?”

Adam thought back to the revolutionary development Walt had been planning. Working with the environment, he would have turned the skiing industry on its ear—much like he did with the amusement park industry. Unfortunately, cancer had caught up with Walt before any plans had been finalized. After his death, the momentum on the project slowly faded until a few vocal opponents kept the project tied up in court. The project was finally dropped in the early 1970’s. “No, it was never built. It would have been something though. Not only for skiers in the winter, but hikers in the summer. It would have been a year-around destination.”

“I didn’t think you skied.” Lance gave him a questioning look. “It sounds like you regret the project was never finished.”

“I don’t, but I sure would have gone there to see it. Who knows? Maybe I would have taken lessons.”

“Well,” Lance settled back onto the cushions of the sofa, “it doesn’t sound like that’s the place we should research. I think the term bonfire would relate to a ski resort rather than a campfire. Campfire is more rustic and Westerny.”

“Westerny? Is that a word?” Adam grinned and tried to push a couple of Lance’s buttons. “Thought you minored in Literature.”

“And Art...and Psychology,” he muttered under his breath. He heard Adam’s computer chime again. “So, are you going to feed me or let me starve to death?”

At the sound, Adam glared at his computer. Feed Lance was flashing in the middle of his screen again. With a groan, he ran a hand over his tired eyes. “You want to fix that for me?”

Lance was already on his feet. “Nope. I need to go eat. You want to get a fresh start tomorrow morning?”

Bringing up his Organizer, Adam checked his schedule for Saturday. “I need to check in with Scott and see how the Anderson job is going. And, no, you can’t go with me, so don’t ask. Give me a call tomorrow afternoon and we’ll compare notes.”

Lance just nodded his farewell and left, heading for the nearest restaurant. Adam went to his kitchen and stared into his almost-empty refrigerator.

Lance didn’t get back to Adam’s until Saturday evening at almost 7:00—just in time for another ringing reminder to feed him. He sat tiredly on the sofa and put his feet up as if he had been on them all day. Adam noticed his face looked like he’d been out in the sun.

“You spend the day at the beach?” Adam was half joking and half curious.

“No.” Lance’s reply was short as his head dropped back against the cushions. “That would have been enjoyable.”

When he said no more, Adam knew that was all the information he would get. Lance hadn’t been on the Anderson job as he had been there all day with Scott fending off suggestions. Lance looked beat. That was the word for it—beat. “You too tired to work on the clues?” He thought Lance was asleep. His eyes were closed and he hadn’t moved a muscle—not that that was too unusual for Lance.…

“No, I’m fine.” His reply was completely non-enthused. “You have any cola? I could use some caffeine.” Lance managed to issue a tired “Thanks” when Adam came back from the kitchen and handed him the cold drink. He first ran the can over his warm face. Knowing Adam’s eyes were on him, watching and curious, he gave no explanation for his current condition. This wasn’t something he was going to share. But, he did have news that would take Adam’s mind off his personal life: “I think I found the answer to the Triple R thing.”

That worked. Adam’s face lit up. “You did? Wow, that’s great! I haven’t had any time to even start on it. What did you find?”

With a mild grunt of effort, Lance sat up on the sofa. Opening one of Adam’s reference books to the back, he did a quick search in the Index. Not finding what he needed, he tried another. In the second book he found what he wanted and opened to the specified page. He handed the book to Adam and pointed. It seemed too much effort for him to talk.

Adam gave him another curious glance and then read what Lance indicated. “Who the heck are Spin and Marty?”

Lance managed a little smile. “Seems we’re too young for this particular clue. I asked around today while I was…uhm, out. I mentioned Triple R to a few people. Our age group and younger had no idea what it meant. Then I asked some women who must have been in their late 40’s. I didn’t ask…just that they looked older than you and me. Anyway, they said immediately, ‘Oh you mean the Triple R Ranch? I loved Spin and Marty!’” He took another swig of the cola. The caffeine seemed to be taking effect as he was started to get more animated.

“Did you ask what it meant?” His finger was still in the book, but he would rather hear it from Lance.

Lance nodded. “You’ve heard of the Mickey Mouse Club.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Of course.”

“Well, Spin and Marty was an episodic show that appeared regularly on the original Mickey Mouse Club. The Triple R Ranch was where the boys lived. It was kind of a cowboy camp for boys. Apparently it was very popular. Possibly the Davy Crockett fad helped. Anyway, later I asked a few more people who looked about the same age group and they all made the same reference.”

“Very good. Was it filmed at the studio? Think we need to do some prospecting around there, a figurative digging for clues, maybe?”

Lance didn’t answer. There was something else on his mind. “One thing bothers me.” He leaned back, a frown on his face as he talked it through. “The time frame of this show. This was a lot later than the time period we just left in Kansas City. Walt didn’t come to Hollywood until 1923. This show came out around 1955. That’s a jump of more than thirty years. What we’ve found so far has kept to the timeline of Walt’s life story.”

Adam considered that logic. “I see what you mean. Hold on.” Retrieving the diary, he read through it again. “It doesn’t say we would follow his life exactly. Just going to important events. Maybe mixing them up makes it more of a challenge.”

“Or,” Lance paused, “perhaps we’re on the wrong track.” Holding his hand out for the diary he shook his head as he thought. “But it doesn’t feel like the wrong track. That’s my problem.”

“Did you have any time to look for a Mario who was connected with the show?”

“Yes, I tried that right before I came over. Came up blank. I think we need to read more about the show itself and see if there’s some campfire song popular back then. You keep reading in that book and I’ll see what I can find on your computer.”

Adam watched warily as Lance sat in his chair and picked up the mouse. He wasn’t sure he wanted Lance near his computer again. Catching Adam’s look, Lance waved him off. “I’m too tired to play.” With that, Lance began a search and clicked on a couple of highlighted results.

Slightly appeased, Adam started reading about Spin and Marty and their adventures on the Triple R Ranch in the book he was still holding.

“Where’s Newhall?” Lance’s sudden question broke into his concentration.

“I don’t know. About an hour, hour and a half north of here. Why?”

“I found the ranch.”

Immediately dropping his book, Adam bounded over to the computer. Lance rolled the office chair to the side so Adam could see the monitor. “Golden Oak Ranch?” Puzzled, Adam stared at the screen. “I thought it was the Triple R. Are you sure you’re right?”

“It was called the Triple R on the show. The actual location was at the Golden Oak Ranch.”

“I still don’t see what all this has to do with prospecting. The Triple R was kind of a dude ranch, wasn’t it? Or am I missing something?”

Lance must have been tired. He let an obvious chance to say something smart to Adam go by. “No, there’s some history of the Golden Oak Ranch we didn’t know about. Look at this picture.”

It was a photograph of a historical marker plaque that declared that ‘on this site in 1842 gold was discovered by Francisco Lopez.’ The marker was placed next to a huge old oak tree. Further reading revealed this tree was located on the outskirts of the Western town that was built—and still used—by movie companies.

“So we get to dig for real gold?” Adam was confused as to where this was leading. “Wait. Look at those signs.”

‘Keep Out! No Trespassing!’ Another picture showed signs posted all over the entry gate to the ranch.

“Think that means us?” Lance asked with a grin.

“That never stopped you before.” Adam stepped back from the computer. “We need to look into this some more. You keep reading here and I’ll see if any mention is made in my books.”

“Will do.” Lance finished his cola and dropped the can somewhere near the waste basket.

“What did you find?”

Adam looked over his notes. “When Spin and Marty was being filmed, the ranch was being leased. Then Walt bought the original 315 acres in 1959 for $300,000. Over the next several years, the size of the ranch was enlarged to over seven hundred acres. The Disney movie Toby Tyler was filmed there in 1960. The ranch is still in use today and is off limits to the general public. What did you find?”

“Similar stuff. There’s a guest house where Walt stayed when he visited. I found something you might be interested in. There’s an assistant on the ranch who’s been there since 1964. Guess what his nickname is?”

“Walt?”

“Funny, Adam. No. Mario.”

Adam was surprised. “No way! Is he still there? It’s been thirty-eight years!”

“Yep. He’s also very knowledgeable on the history of the ranch and all the movies that have been filmed there.”

“I don’t suppose you found out how to contact him?”

Being more rested and the caffeine having done its trick, Lance was more himself again. He gave Adam a wide grin. “Of course I did. There’s a phone number for movie companies who want to rent the ranch.”

Adam looked deflated. “Is that the only way to get in? We have to rent the place?”

“I didn’t say that. We haven’t tried the number yet. It’s too late today and tomorrow is Sunday. I would guess bright and early Monday morning would be the best time to try.”

“So, are we supposed to sing to him over the phone or something?” Adam still found that unsettling.

Lance had forgotten that part of the clue. “Oh. You might be right. You find any campfire song yet?”

Adam shook his head and indicated his books. “There’s hardly any mention of the show at all, let alone some song out of it. You seem to be having more success with my computer. Want to keep at it a while longer?”

“Before I log off here, do you want to see the layout of the ranch?”

“The Triple R?”

“No, the Golden Oak. It says it isn’t to scale, but that isn’t too important.”

Adam came back to the desk. “You really need to show me how you find so much in my computer. I just use it for business.”

“Oh, I can find all kinds of things on your computer.” Lance’s muttered remark hid his grin. Too busy looking at the map, Adam didn’t challenge him.

The map showed a long, narrow strip of land off the Antelope Valley Freeway, Highway 14. The ranch was broken into different regions—Central Region, Placerita Creek Region, Lake Region, Canyon Region, and Bottom Region. Each section had its own merits—and pictures—so film companies would know which would suit their needs. Besides the full Western Town, there were also different style cabins by the lakes and creeks, a white pillared mansion, a covered bridge, different styles of barns, meadows, dusty trails, corrals, a waterfall, river, and a guest house for the crews if they didn’t bring their own accommodations. The names of the locations were just as colorful as the map: Moonshine Meadow. Cherokee Trail Set. Outlaw Shack. Toby Tyler Bridge. Big West Meadow. The men saw that the Western/Ghost Town and the titled oak tree were located in the Lake Region. They also noticed the main clusters of buildings were far enough away from the highway that there would be no encroaching noise at all. It was perfect for movies set over a hundred years ago…provided airplanes or jets with vapor trails didn’t fly overhead during filming.

Both men hoped they would be allowed on the ranch, and not just for the clue, either. It sounded like a fascinating place to poke around. On horseback would be nice.…

Tuesday morning Lance showed up unannounced on the Anderson job. Fortunately for all concerned, Mrs. Anderson was at a spa for the day. He went up to Adam without any preamble. “Do you want to drive or do you want me to?”

Adam and Scott were checking the newly-delivered Jacuzzi tub for any visible damage. It was pink and large enough to comfortably soak four people. That particular pink color had been a special order, as had everything else on this job. Adam wasn’t going to let Ben the Beam Destroyer anywhere near it. “Drive what?” He was distracted. “Wait a minute. Is that a scratch or just delivery dust?”

“Either your work truck that declares Michaels Construction to the world or my elegant little Mercedes?”

“Even though I know I’m going to regret asking, what are you talking about?” Adam got up from examining the tub. Before Lance could respond, Adam turned to his foreman. “It was just dust. It looks perfect. Now if it just stays this way for four or five days while the plumber finishes his underground connections. Scott, could you please build the platform for the spa personally?”

“Okay, boss, you got it.”

“We have a two o’clock appointment with Mario at the Golden Oak Ranch today.” Lance’s spoke with the same inflection he would have used to say they were going two blocks away for lunch.

Frowning, Adam glanced at his watch. “It’s already 11:00.”

“That’s why I came early.” Lance grinned as he switched his attention to the tub. “So, can I try out the Jacuzzi?”

“Keep away from it!” Adam blocked his path. “We need to get it around to the back for safe-keeping. After it’s installed, your use of it is between you and Mrs. Anderson.”

Lance just rocked back and forth on his feet. He wouldn’t get anywhere near this house after it was installed. “Well?”

Adam started to measure the lip of the tub and checked it against the blueprint. “Well what?”

“Unless you want to go to the ranch on an empty stomach, we really need to get going.”

Adam seemed to be counting silently to himself. By the time he got to ten, something else had caught Lance’s wandering attention. He had gone inside to say hello to the crew. Adam was now chanting. ‘Calm. Calm. Calm.’

“Didn’t know you took up yoga, boss.” Scott had an amused look on his face. These two were more fun to watch than Laurel and Hardy.

“Only way I can keep from killing him.” Adam’s words were dry as he looked from his watch to the blueprints to the tub.

“You need to take off?”

Adam nodded slowly. “Again.” He gave a sigh. “Everything’s going smoothly right now. Double-check the measurements of the tub. They aren’t quite what we were told by the manufacturer. The plumber might have to move the drain and the faucet. I don’t know if there’s cell phone reception out where we’re going, but give a call if you need something.”

“Will do. See you tomorrow?”

“Yes, hopefully this won’t take more than the afternoon. Thanks again, Scott.”

With a nod, Scott took the blueprints from Adam and started measuring the tub.

Lance came back out to the front holding a bottle of cold water. Adam wasn’t sure if he got it from the crew cooler or from Mrs. Anderson’s refrigerator. Not going to ask. Not going to ask. He knew the crew wouldn’t mind. Lance had had four large pizzas delivered to them one Friday right before shut-down. They would do anything for him. “Ready?”

Adam looked down at his dusty jeans and sweat-stained T-shirt. Well, they were going to a ranch out in the country. Adam’s work boots were more suited than Lance’s spotless loafers. Lance was dressed as if he was going to a country club social. Adam smiled for the first time since Lance showed up. “Yep, ready. Follow me to my place and we’ll go in your car.” Yes, the elegant little black Mercedes would look really good covered with ranch dust.

Adam didn’t bother changing clothes. He just parked his truck at the apartments and got in Lance’s car. They stopped at a drive-thru for lunch. Thankfully traffic was light as they headed north on the I-5. Lance bit into his hamburger, steering with his left knee.

After he finished his own mouthful, Adam had a question. “So, how’d you get us onto the ranch?”

Lance checked his side mirror and banked into the right lane. “It wasn’t too difficult. Mario answered the phone himself. I told him ‘Walt sent me.’ And before he could hang up on me, I crooned a little ‘Yippi-A, Yippi-I, Yippi-O’ to him. I think I stunned him.”

“Not surprising.” Adam mumbled through a bite of his burger. “I’m guessing that’s part of the campfire song the clue mentioned?”

Lance ignored him. “Mario was silent for a long time. He finally told me he never expected to hear that song after all these years. Then he asked me when we could come out.”

“Wow, it really worked!” Now it was Adam’s turn to be stunned. He thought they were going to have to somehow sneak onto the ranch dodging a hail of bullets and snarling dogs.

“He wants to see the note, of course, since he had watched Walt write it. I think he wants to see it as much for old time’s sake as anything else.”

“So what do we do once we get there?”

Lance shrugged as he swerved back into the fast lane. “He said he’ll tell us. Watch for Highway 14. Then we need the Placerita Canyon exit.”

They were quiet with their own thoughts the rest of the way. They found the entrance to the ranch looked just like it did in the pictures—forbidding. There were more signs posted warning people away. One, as Adam feared, warned of guard dogs.

The dire warnings were a sharp contrast to the warm greeting that awaited them. Lance had the clue in his wallet. Stepping between Mario and Adam, he had opened his wallet so only their host could see it. Mario looked at something Lance slid out of a pocket, nodded once, and then took the diary page in his hands. As he read, a fond smile slowly crept over Mario’s face. He handed the clue back to Lance with a far-away look in his eyes. “Yes, that was from Mr. Walt. Pull forward through the gates, and then follow me in your car, please.” He climbed back into his pickup after he shut the gates behind the Mercedes.

Heading north, they drove on a well-maintained road through a thick stand of trees. These same impenetrable trees lined the entire border of the property shielding the fascinating contents from passers-by. It wouldn’t do for drivers to see a shoot-out in a meadow as they were navigating the winding outer road. The trees also hid the vistas from the guys in the car as they drove, their tires producing a low cloud of dust that dissipated in the breeze. Disappointed they were seeing nothing of the ranch, the two friends were glad when they finally came to an open meadow. There was a huge parking lot, a cavernous barn and a couple of outbuildings. After parking, Lance and Adam climbed into Mario’s pickup and were given a brief but detailed history of the ranch. They caught glimpses of some of the cabins and buildings they had read about as they drove north towards the Lake Region. Their earlier disappointment vanished as they were driven through the main street of the empty Western set. There was no shooting going on, but a crew was expected next week to shoot a commercial. Mario stopped the truck and pointed out the legendary oak tree. Lance was going to open the truck’s door but was stopped by Mario.

“That is not for you,” Mario stated in a soft but clear statement. “It is protected by the Historical Society. I just thought you would like to see it.” He took his foot off the brake and continued to drive past the lake and up a ridge. The little wooden guest house with its small pool was sitting there just like they had seen in the pictures from the website. Mario pulled up near it and stopped. When they looked at him expectantly, not sure of what they were supposed to do, he gave them a little smile. “Yes, this is where you get out.” Going to the back of his truck, he rummaged around and reluctantly handed them a flashlight and a hammer. Next he pulled out a ladder. “This is what I was told to give you.”

“Do you know what we’re supposed to find?”

He shook his head. “No. It is not for me to know. I was entrusted with this much only. It was important to Mr. Walt, and I would do whatever he asked of me.” He sighed and looked out over the pool, his mind elsewhere. “He is very much missed. I will be back in two hours.” Not moving to leave, he stared at the hammer as if he would like to take it back.

Adam thought he understood the reason for Mario’s reluctance to leave them with tools. “I’m a General Contractor. I won’t do any damage.” Adam then indicated Lance with a movement of his chin. Lance was busy wiping dust off of his shoes with the back of his pant legs. “And neither will he.”

Adam was scrutinized with dark eyes. The older man nodded once and got back in his truck. Mario now felt better leaving them at the guest house. Besides, there was work he needed to do. The pristine condition of the grounds required constant care.

Setting the ladder near the entry, Adam and Lance turned to face the rectangular house. They wondered how many people had slept there since Walt’s time. Leaving the door ajar and pulling open the curtains for light, they came to the conclusion it couldn’t have been very many. It didn’t have the feel of a frequently-used house. There was a faint sheen of dust on the few pieces of furniture and the air was stale—a condition that the open door and windows soon alleviated.

Nothing obvious jumped out at Adam and Lance. But, when it came to the clues Walt left, it never did. There were only two rooms—the living room/kitchen in which they were standing and a bedroom with a small attached bathroom. The walls in the living room were paneled in a light oak that matched the kitchen cabinets. The sofa was beige and saggy. There was a small oak coffee table and matching side table with a western-style lamp sitting on it. The bedroom was painted white with a small corner desk and chair, and another chair under the window. A search proved the desk to be empty. There was nothing stuck up under the drawers and no false backs or bottoms. The cabinets in the kitchen were full of inexpensive dishes, glassware and cooking pots. The refrigerator was cold but empty. Sofa cushions proved to be just cushions. Moving to the sofa, they slid it away from the wall and carefully tipped it forward. There was no secret panel under the sofa or any tell-tale sign of another clue hidden in the springs and stuffing. Pictures on the walls held no secrets. The bathroom was tiny and empty. Nothing under or behind the double bed. The chest of drawers and the night stand were just as barren as the desk had proved to be. The closet in the bedroom had only a few wire hangers. The bare bulb light fixture was activated by a long string weighted with a lead washer.

Almost out of options, Adam glanced up at the stark light fixture. Next to it was the access panel to the attic. Shining the flashlight on the panel, he saw nothing. But, on one side of the molding around the panel something was scratched into the old wood. He went out to get the ladder and carefully carried it through the little house. Lance, who had still been searching the living room, followed him into the bedroom. Adam only needed to climb two steps to see that the scratching read WED.

Reaching higher, he slid the access panel out of the way. Two more steps and his head was inside the hot, musty attic filled with cobwebs that had been long abandoned. Making a slow circle of the tiny space with the flashlight, it, too, seemed to be completely empty.

Then, as he turned to look the other way, leaning sideways to shine the flashlight behind him, there it was, nailed onto one of the ceiling joists—a dust-covered capsule larger than what they found in the McConahy building. It was closer to the size they had found buried in Marceline, Missouri, about fourteen inches long and six inches in diameter. Other than the dust coating it, the plastic was in perfect condition.

“We have about fifteen minutes before Mario comes back. Do you want to open it here?” Lance seemed inclined to open the capsule, but left the final decision to Adam.

Shaking it gently, there was no clinking noise. It must hold paperwork. “Let me get the ladder out of here.” Adam closed the access panel and folded up the ladder, carefully carrying it outside. Other than some dust falling from the open attic, nothing looked changed or moved.

Lance finally broke the seal on the end cap. His hands were cleaner than Adam’s, so he pulled out the rolled-up papers. He found a sealed envelope and two pieces of paper. The smaller paper looked identical to the one that held their last clue. The larger piece was heavier stock in an off-white color with Disney characters banked around the top edges. The words in bold, flowery script said Grant Deed and was dated 1965. There was an embossed Seal of California at the bottom, banked by signatures. He quickly read through the legalese and handed it to Adam. At Adam’s curious look, he explained with careful enunciation, “Walt left us something.”

Adam looked at the form. Being a renter, he wasn’t familiar with the document. “Is it a share in something like the railroad stock?”

Lance suddenly grinned. “Something like that. He left us this little house. And the pool, I assume,” he added off-handedly.

Adam was stunned. “No fooling? I thought this ranch was all privately owned now.”

Taking back the deed, Lance looked it over again. “Everything except this little piece of dirt. It grants us full access whenever we want, providing we don’t interrupt any filming or make nuisances of ourselves.”

“Wow. That’s probably why this place doesn’t feel like anyone has been here in a while.”

Lance nodded. “It can be assumed nobody knew exactly who owned it since this deed has been hidden all these years.”

Still dazed, Adam wandered out the front door and perched on the edge of the ladder. He looked around the ridge and the trees off to the west. He could tell by their curving line there was a river cutting through them. He could hear nothing. Absolute silence. Oh, he knew it would be different if a crew was filming something. The Western Town was just below the ridge. But, unless there was a chance airplane flying overhead, it was perfectly silent. It felt odd to him after living in bustling Orange County all his life.

Lance came to join him. Both men sat in silence while they thought about the gift Walt had given them. In the stillness of the ranch, they could hear the pickup long before it got to them. Adam looked at the roadway where the truck would soon appear. “Do we tell Mario about this?”

Lance thought about it, listening to the truck getting closer. “Well, he welcomed us with almost open arms. He knew this was something Walt set up and was entrusted with this secret almost forty years ago. He’s devoted to the ranch and preserving it. I would vote yes.”

Nodding slowly, Adam agreed with him. Before they could discuss it any further, Mario pulled into sight and parked. There was a look of curiosity in his eyes but he wasn’t going to question them. It wasn’t his way. Adam picked up the ladder and carried it to the bed of the pickup. By the time he came back for the hammer and flashlight and had pulled the door of the guest house shut, Lance was showing the deed to their host.

Silent, Mario looked it over carefully. Handing it back to Lance, he held out his hand and gave them a warm smile. “Welcome to the Ranch. We will be very glad to have you. I only ask that you give us a little advance notice when you would like to come.”

“Just like that?” Adam stopped at the tailgate, the hammer and flashlight still in his hands, astonished by both the treasure and the reception of it.

“Yes.” Mario gave a simple, unconcerned shrug. “Just like that.” He paused a few moments while he thought about how to explain it. “Mr. Walt did a wonderful thing in setting up this ranch. At the time, there were many ranches like this. Many of the big studios had their own. But, Mr. Walt, he knew his would last. The others, they folded. Now they come here. We have done much toward keeping the land just so. If you have been entrusted with this little house, then we know you will take good care of it. I think you know the film crews have the right of way out here. But, if you would like to ride, there are horses in the Bottom Region.”

“Who should know about this?” Wondering about the legalities, Adam pointed at the deed in Lance’s hands.

“It is done now. I will tell the ones who need to know. You have only to come.”

They piled back into the cab of the truck and Mario drove them back to Lance’s car. At the clearing, they shook hands with Mario and promised to see him again soon. As the entry gates clanged shut behind them, they gave a final wave. In the excitement of the day, Adam had forgotten all about something: He would have enjoyed the thick coat of dust that covered the entire Mercedes.

As they drove back toward the freeway, Adam suddenly remembered something. “The next clue! I forgot all about it with the Deed and all. Do you have it?”

The sealed envelope and Grant Deed had been placed on the back seat. Lance pulled the clue out of his shirt pocket before entering the onramp for the Antelope Valley Freeway and handed it to Adam. “What does it say? I didn’t read it.”

Adam looked over the familiar handwriting with a growing sense of excitement, not just from the treasures they were finding, either. They were visiting the places important to Walt and learning more about his history. This was fascinating to him. He knew Lance was excited, too, but Lance wasn’t as much of an enthusiast as himself. Had Lance looked over, he would have noticed a melancholy shadow sweep across Adam’s face. Oh, wouldn’t Be... No, he wasn’t going to think of her. Yes, she would have loved all this, but he blew it. Maybe someday he would run into her and tell.…

“Are you going to read it or just stare dreamily out the window?” Lance’s amused voice broke through Adam’s reflection. I cannot believe he’s thinking about her again! Wonder if he’ll ever figure it out. Probably not, Lance thought while grinning at his friend.

Adam snapped back to the present. Good thing Lance isn’t a mind reader. I’d never hear the end of this. “Yeah, sorry,” Adam mumbled, focusing his eyes on the clue.

“This is the house the little princess built. Check out my desk. Hand the envelope to Manny, Mo, or Jack if you can’t find it.”