icion, yet he
must be careful. He was living down one frightful mistake. He could
not risk another. But the man did not wait for a reply.

"Well, I'm quite agreed with you. It has _priest-itis_." He stopped
and looked curiously at Jose, as if awaiting the effect of his bold
words. Then--"I take it you are not really one of 'em?"

Jose stared at the man in amazement. Hitt laughed again. Then he drew
forth a cigar and held it out. "Smoke?" he said. The priest shook his
head. Hitt lighted the cigar himself, then settled back on the bench,
his hands jammed into his trousers pockets, and his long legs stuck
straight out in front, to the unconcealed annoyance of the passers-by.
But, despite his _brusquerie_ and his thoughtlessness, there was
something about the American that was wonderfully attractive to the
lonely priest.

"Yes, sir," Hitt went on abstractedly in corroboration of his former
statement, "Colombia is absolutely stagnant, due to Jesuitical
politics, the bane of all good Catholic countries. If she could shake
off priestcraft she'd have a chance--provided she didn't fall into
orthodox Protestantism."

Jose gasped, though he strove to hide his wonder. "You--" he began
hesitatingly, "you were in the ministry--?"

"Yes. Don't be afraid to come right out with it. I was a Presbyterian
divine some six years ago, in Cincinnati. Ever been there?"

Jose assured him that he had never seen the States.

"H'm," mused the ex-preacher; "great country--wonderful--none like it
in the world! I've been all over, Europe, Asia, Africa--seen 'em all.
America's the original Eden, and our women are the only true
descendants of mother Eve. No question about it, that apple incident
took place up in the States somewhere--probably in Ohio."

Jose caught the man's infectious humor and laughed heartily. Surely,
this American was a tonic, and of the sort that he most needed. "Then,
you are--still touring--?"

"I'm exploring," Hitt replied. "I'm here to study what ancient records
I may find in your library; then I shall go on to Medellin and Bogota.
I'm on the track of a prehistoric Inca city, located somewhere in the
Andes--and no doubt in the most inaccessible spot imaginable.
Tradition cites this lost city as the cradle of Inca civilization.
Tampu Tocco, it is called in their legends, the place from which the
Incas went out to found that marvelous empire which eventually
included the greater part of South America. The difficulty is