y.

"Ah, but the words are more precious than all," Kit assured her. "It
is the right word we have waited for, and you alone could give it,
senora. These people have held the gold ransom while waiting that
word, and this child can bring it when the time is right."

Dona Jocasta regarded Tula doubtfully; she certainly gave no
appearance of holding wealth to redeem a pueblo.

"You,--the little one to whom even the Deliverer listens?" she said
kindly. "But the wealth of a little Indian ranch would not seem riches
to this illustrious lady, the Dona Dolores Terain."

"Yet will I bring riches to her or to you, Excellencia, if only my
mother and my sister are coming again to Palomitas," said Tula
earnestly.

"But whence comes wealth to you in a land where there is no longer
wealth for anyone?"

Kit listened with little liking for the conversation after the padre
entered. It was a direct question, and to be answered with directness,
and he watched Tula anxiously lest she say the wrong thing. But she
told the straight truth in a way to admit of no question.

"Long ago my father got gold for sacred prayer reasons; he hid it
until he was old; when he died he made gift of it to me that my mother
and sister buy freedom. That is all, Excellencia, but the gold is good
gold."

She slipped her hand under her skirt and unfastened the leather
strings of the burro-skin belt,--it fell heavily on the tile floor.
She untied the end of it and poured a handful on the table.

"You see, senora, there is riches enough to go with your words, but
never enough to pay for them."

"_Santa Maria!_" cried the amazed priest. "That is _red_ gold! In what
place was it found?"

Tula laid her hand over the nuggets and faced him.

"That secret was the secret of Miguel who is dead."

"But--some old Indian must know----"

Tula shook her head with absolute finality.

"No old Indian in all the world knows that!" she said. "This was a
secret of the youth of Miguel, and only when old and dying did he
give it for his people. This I,--Tula, child of Miguel tell you."

Padre Andreas looked from the girl to Kit and back again, knowing that
the death of Miguel was a recent thing since it had occurred after the
stealing of the women.

"Where did your father die?" he asked.

"In the hills of the desert."

"And--who had absolving and burial of him?"

"Absolving I do not know, but this man, his friend, had the making of
the grave," she said, indica