grasped me and drew me out into the
fresh air, where I almost collapsed, overcome.

"Surely, amigo," said Reyes, "you will not blame me now for not
entering, but you have endurance, for Dios! I should not have survived
so long. Thank God you came out alive! When I saw them pass in knives,
I had my doubts and momentarily expected to hear the report of your
revolver. But when I saw you pass by infatuated with Jtz-Li-Cama, the
cacique's daughter and wife of the murderous scoundrel, El Macho, then
I gave you up. Oh, see what is happening now. Amigo, you have broken up
the dance. So it seemed. The drum was silent now and we heard the
voices of men arguing in the Aztec idiom. Of a sudden the lights were
extinguished and the crowd came out with a rush, and silently they
stole away in the darkness.

"Now, amigo," said Reyes, "let me tell you something, which may haply
serve you well. Knowing that an American accomplishes things which a
Mexican like myself must let alone, I advise you to try for the hidden
treasure of La Gran Quivira. Seeing that you are in the good graces of
Jtz-Li-Cama, you might prevail with the cacique to guide you. He is
said to be the only living man who knows the secret of the trove in the
ruins of the sacred temple of the ancient city. The Indians believe
that this treasure, which the Aztecs hid from the Spaniards, is guarded
by a terrible phantom dog, the specter of one of the great dogs of
Fernando Cortez which ravened among their Aztec ancestors. They fear
the specter of this fabled Perro de la Malinche more than anything else
on earth, as it is said to harrow their souls in Hades as it ravened
their bodies when in the flesh."

After smoking a few cigarritos, my friend proposed to ride home, as
there was really nothing else to be done. We rode slowly along,
enjoying the beautiful night of this faultless climate, and I shall
ever remember this night to my last day. There was a pleasant,
refreshing odor in the air, the scent of the wild thyme which grows in
these sand dunes. The moon rose over the Manzana range and flooded the
broad valley with its soft, silvery rays. Suddenly, at a sharp turn of
the trail, we found ourselves surrounded by silent forms arisen from
the misty ground. "Don Reyes Alvarado," spoke the voice of the Indian,
known as the macho, "I have come for revenge and am now ready to wipe
out the insults you heaped on me when you charged me with the theft of
your calves. I challenge th