nowing that Tom and his
friends were well armed, and doubtless thinking that strategy was
better than open force he bowed, smiled in what he probably meant
for a friendly fashion, and said:

"The senor is pleased to joke. Very well, I shall believe what I
like. Meanwhile, does Senor Swift commission me to buy the image for
him?"

Tom hesitated a moment. He feared he would be no match for the
shrewd Mexican, and he wondered how much Delazes already knew. Then
he decided on keeping up his end baldly, as that had seemed to have
the best effect.

"You can have a try at buying the image after I have failed," he
said. "I'll try my hand first."

"Very well," assented the contractor. The talk had been in English,
and none of the Mexicans gave any signs of having understood it. Tom
realized that he was playing a dangerous game, for naturally Delazes
would privately tell the Mexicans to put so high a price on the
statute as to prevent Tom from getting it and then the contractor
would make his own terms.

But Tom decided that this was the only course, and he followed it.

"We'll stay here in the village for to-night," he went on. "Delazes,
you and your men can make yourselves comfortable with any friends
you may find here. We'll set up our tent as usual, after we get some
corn meal for supper. I'll talk to them about the relic to-morrow.
They seem to be afraid now."

"Very well," assented the contractor again, and then he said
something in Spanish to the aged Mexican. What it was Tom could not
catch, for Delazes spoke rapidly and seemed to use some colloquial,
or slang phrases with which our hero was not familiar. The old
Mexican assented by a nod, and then he brought out some corn meal
which Eradicate took. The woman with the golden image had gone into
an inner room.

"Bless my pocketbook!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, when he Tom, Ned and
Eradicate were busy setting up their tent near a campfire just on
the edge of the village. "This is most unexpected. What are you
going to do, Tom?"

"I hardly know. I want to have a talk with whoever owns that image,
to learn where they got it. One thing is sure, it proves that Mr.
Illingway's information about the city of gold is correct."

"But it doesn't tell us where it is," said Ned.

"It must be somewhere around here," declared his chum. "Otherwise
the image wouldn't be here."

"Bless my gaiters, that's so!" exclaimed the odd man.

"Not necessarily," insisted Ned. "Why one of