o difficulty in securing a sum which would
enable him to live in comfort, even luxury, for the remainder of his
days. He was not successful in arranging the matter abroad and he came to
this country about six years ago hoping to make a better bargain. He
remained here in New York several months and then sailed for France on
_The Princess Verona_."

"_The Princess Verona_," interrupted Penfield. "Why, she was lost at sea;
went down with a terrible loss of life."

Hayden nodded. "And neither Willoughby nor his wife was among the saved.
But just before sailing, he wrote to the Spanish nephew on the old
estate, and also to his lawyers in France, announcing exultantly that he
had been successful in his mission, having sold the property at a great
figure, and that he would shortly write of all the details of the
purchase. But from that day to this, the nephew has heard nothing further
of the matter. There has been no effort to claim or to take possession of
the property. That is, with this exception. Within the last six years,
foreign prospectors have twice appeared on the estate, and on being
questioned as to their business have said they came from the owners of
the property. In both instances, however, they withheld the names of the
people they were supposed to represent, and little credence was given to
their story.

"But nevertheless, the French lawyers believe that the estate was sold,
for just before sailing Willoughby purchased drafts in New York for a
large sum of money.

"But where are the owners? Why should any one person or group of persons
consider a property sufficiently desirable as to pay such a sum for it
and then apparently drop the whole matter? It's unthinkable, incredible."
Hayden sprang to his feet and began to walk the floor. "That's the
question that has been puzzling me for months. What is their game? What
does their waiting mean? But that is what I am here for--to try and trace
up those owners. I'm prepared to give time and money to the task, for,
Horace"--a passionate exultation rang through his voice--"I--I--have
discovered the mine, the wonderful, lost Veiled Mariposa."

"The deuce you have!" exclaimed Penfield, actually showing something like
excitement. "And is it really all that tradition says of it?"

"More," affirmed Robert solemnly. "I tell you, Horace, it makes the
fabled treasures of the Incas look like thirty cents. Ah, it's--" He
paused on the hearth-rug and looked down on the gossi