rdly know how to explain
myself to you, since I know nothing save by hearsay, and what
mountaineers say."

"About what?"

"Well, it has become folklore in these parts that there is a cave
somewhere in the Hardt Bergs, containing a vast amount of stolen gold,
every coin of which is spotted with human blood, that is guarded by a
pack of fierce wolves placed there by the devil. It has been said that
desperate men have tried to reach the treasure, but that they have
always been slain and eaten by the guardian wolves."

"Nonsense. Simply a story told in the twilight to frighten children, who
after growing up come to believe it true."

The landlord shook his head.

"I see you also believe it. Well, I will not dispute or argue with you
regarding the legend, but you must see that I did not come upon that
particular cave, since I killed the wolves and am here with but a few
scratches."

"Rather hard scratches, sir."

"But I shall survive them, and neither this nor the danger of coming
upon the real devil-guarded cave will deter me from visiting the hills
whenever I like."

"You are a brave man, sir."

"No; simply a sensible one. I am not superstitious, nor do I believe in
such legends. I would be ashamed to do so."

"Well," replied the landlord, shrugging his shoulders, "you can afford
to do as you please, but you are sure to have no company when you go
hunting in that direction."

"And I want none--at least, not the company of persons who believe in
such nonsense."

"Ah, the surgeon has come."

"Hurry him here, for my wounds pain me exceedingly," said Barnwell.

The surgeon was soon at his side, and proceeded to dress his wounds,
exchanging only sufficient words to learn the cause of them, for he was
a man of medicine, not words.

"When will you come again?" asked Barnwell.

"When your hurts need redressing."

"And that will be?"

"To-morrow."

"How long will I probably be laid up?"

"A week," and he went away.

Barnwell experienced great relief from the skillful dressing his wounds
had received, and he was presently able to collect his thoughts.

And naturally enough they ran back to the wolf's den, where he had found
the starting point that corresponded with Batavsky's diagram, and the
legend which the landlord had told him of. What a startling coincidence
it was, to say the least of it!

Of course, he did not for a moment believe the supernatural part of it,
but it certainly was strange that