hat he would die a dog's death at
the hands of the conquerors," Zoraida said, "he had as much of the
royal treasury as he could lay his hands on brought here. The
Spaniards guessed and demanded to be told the hiding place.
Guatamotzin locked his lips. They tortured him; he looked calmly back
into their enraged eyes and locked his lips the tighter. They killed
him but he kept his secret."

She had mentioned Barlow, and just now Kendric's thoughts had more to
do with the present and the immediate future than with a remote and
legendary history.

"So," he said, "while Barlow and I made our long journey south, seeking
the treasure of the Montezumas, you already had had it safe under lock
and key for God knows how long!"

"Choose what pleases you most, Senor Jim," she said. "That I may make
you a rich gift."

But though for a moment the glowing pearls, the gold and silver
trinklets held his eyes, he shook his head.

"It strikes me," he said bluntly, "that you and I are not such friends
that rich gifts need pass from one to the other of us."

"Then not even all this," and with a quick gesture she indicated all of
the wealth that surrounded him, "can move you? Are you man, Jim
Kendric, or a mechanical thing of levers and springs set into a man's
form?"

"I have never had the modern madness of lusting for gold; that is all,"
he told her.

"Not entirely modern," she retorted, "since here are ancient hoardings;
nor yet entirely mad, since it is pure wisdom to put out a hand for the
supreme lever of worldly power. You are a strange man, Senor Jim!"

"I am what I am," he said simply. "And, like other men, content with
my own desires and dreamings."

She studied him, for a while in open perplexity, then in as frank a
glowing admiration. That he should set aside with a careless hand that
which meant so much to her, but made of him in her eyes a sort of
superman.

"The thing to do," said Kendric out of a short silence, "is to open
your doors and let me go back to the States. I came here looking for
treasure trove; your claim antedates mine and I am no highwayman."

Zoraida seated herself in a big carved chair by the long table whereon
lay the ancient writings, folded like fans and protected between leaves
of decorated woods of various shapes and colors.

"Let me tell you two things, my friend. Three, rather. You saw the
sky just now and thought to yourself that all of my safeguards here
would be foolish an