at attention.
Heavy limbed, muscular fellows they were, clad only in short white
tunics, each with a plain gold band about his forehead. In the hand of
each was a great, two-edged knife, horn handled, as long as a man's arm.

"These came just before my father gave his keys to Zoraida," the girl
told him: "There are three more of them who sleep while these guard."

Again Kendric saw in the eyes turned upon them a sheer worship of
Zoraida, a wonder at him. Zoraida lifted her hand; the three bowed
low. She spoke softly and they withdrew slowly to the further wall,
walking backward as the children had done. Then one of them lifted
down the five bars across a door, employing a rude key from his own
belt. And when he had done so and stepped aside Zoraida with her own
keys in five different heavy steel locks opened the way. She swung the
door open and Kendric followed her. As in the adobe house here was a
place where a curtain beyond the doorway hid from any chance eyes what
might lie in this room. Only when the door was again shut and locked
did Zoraida push the curtain aside. Another match, another big lamp
lighted--and Kendric needed no telling that he was in an ancient
treasure chamber.

There were long gleaming-topped tables of hardwood; there were
exquisitely wrought and embroidered fabrics covering them; strewn
across the tables were countless objects of inestimable value. Vases
and pitchers and plates of hammered gold; golden goblets set with rich
stones; ropes of silver; vessels of many curious shapes, some as small
as walnuts, some as large as water pitchers, but all of the precious
metals; knives with blades of obsidian and handles of gold; mirrors of
selected obsidian bound around in gold; necklaces, coronets, polished
stone jars heaped with gold dust. One table appeared to be heaped high
with strange-looking books; ancient writings, Zoraida told him,
heiroglyphs on the _mauguey_ that is so like the papyrus of the Nile.

"And look," laughed Zoraida. "Here is something that would open the
greedy eyes of your friend Barlow."

She opened a cedar box and poured forth the contents. Pearls, pearls
by the double handful, such as she had worn that night at Ortega's
gambling house, many times in number those which Barlow had declared
would make Kendric's twenty thousand dollars "look sick." In the
lamplight their soft effulgence stirred even the blood of Jim Kendric.

"When the great Tzin Guatamo knew t