at him more closely. No,
he could see where the roots of the coarse black hair joined the scalp.
And there was not the least evidence of make-up on the face.
Nevertheless, Orme did not feel warranted in giving up the marked bill
without a definite explanation. The little man was a comic figure, but
his bizarre exterior might conceal a dangerous plot. He might be a thief,
an anarchist, anything.

"Please, my dear sir, please do not add to my already very great
anxiety," pleaded the visitor.

Orme spoke more decisively. "You are a stranger, Senhor Poritol. I don't
know what all this mystery conceals, but I can't give you that bill
unless I know more about it--and I won't," he added, as he saw Senhor
Poritol open his mouth for further pleading.

"Very well," sighed the little man. He hesitated for an instant, then
added: "I do not blame you for insisting, and I suppose I must say to you
everything that you demand. No, I do not smoke the cigar, please. But if
you do not object--" He produced a square of cigarette paper and some
tobacco from a silver-mounted pouch, and deftly rolled a cigarette with
one hand, accepting a match from Orme with the other. Closing his eyes,
he inhaled the smoke deeply, breathing it out through his nostrils.

"Well--" he hesitated, his eyes roving about the room as if in search of
something--"Well, I will explain to you why I want the bill."

Orme lighted a fresh cigar, and settled himself to hear the story. Senhor
Poritol drew a second handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his damp
brow.

"You must know, my very dear sir," he began, "that I come from a country
which is very rich in the resources of nature. In the unsettled interior
are very great mineral deposits which are little known, and since the day
when the great Vega made the first exploration there has been the belief
that the Urinaba Mountains hide a great wealth in gold. Many men for
three hundred years have risked their most precious lives to go look for
it. But they have not found it. No, my dear sir, they have not found it
until--But have patience, and you shall hear everything.

"A few days ago a countryman of mine sent word that he was about to die.
He asked that I, his early friend, should come to him immediately and
receive news of utmost importance. He was lying sick in the hotel of a
small city in Wisconsin. He was a tobacco agent and he had been attacked
by Death while he was on a business trip.

"Filled with the