, returned
spirits.... I can't say; but I have been there, and heard their curious
warnings and manifestations. There is something definable there, in the
periphery of those ancient ruins. A malignant spiritual force lurks
within that mediaeval stronghold. While it haunts those musty halls it
is madness for any man to expose himself there."

"You could write a good book on it, Duke," observed Jarvis
irreverently. "Have you ever seen this ghost?"

"My brother has," interrupted Maria Theresa impetuously. "Twice, to my
knowledge, before I left Seguro. So had my father and the others who
disappeared from human ken!"

"Good Lord!" and there was a touch of the mock-heroic in the
Kentuckian's voice, which escaped his companions.

"According to the family tradition," continued the Princess, "no one
has ever seen it three times, and lived to tell the story."

"How do you connect this gentlemanly spook with the treasure, your
Excellency?" burst in Jarvis, with a swift look of interrogation which
discomfited the nobleman.

"Spook? Treasure? I see no connection. What do you mean?"

"Oh, there is always money when the ghost walks," was the mysterious
reply of the American, wasted on the untheatrical Spaniards. "That is
the first premise upon which a reliable scientific Ghost Breaker begins
his task of investigation."

"I don't know what your experience may have been, Mr. Warren. You are
evidently a brave man, but you have yet to encounter a ghost like this
supernatural spirit. Things are different in the Old World!"

Warren Jarvis sniffed.

"Huh! Brave? It takes no bravery to fight a coward--that is what the
ghost is. It's a coward like every other stealthy, sneaking spirit,
afraid to show itself by daylight, in the glare of the sun. I can tell
you now that men are not half so afraid of spirits as the spirits are
afraid of men. If you face the supernatural, it is more than half
beaten to a frazzle, before the fight begins. In my professional career
I have learned that ghosts, horse thieves, and peevish wildcats can all
be tamed by the same little charm."

The Princess was mystified.

"Charm? What do you mean--a relic?"

The Duke leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with interest.

"What is it?"

"I'd hate to tell you," responded Warren Jarvis. "It's part of my
system."

And he forthwith drew out the revolver, caressing it with an
unmistakable confidence.

"I had been hoping, Mr. Warren," remarked the Duke, "that