were statuettes of birds, animals, reptiles. Made of some metal,
they were perfect representations. Parker saw a condor, a bald-headed
eagle, a humming-bird, a cougar, a jaguar, an alligator. His eyes went
back to the pool in the center of the room.

"It is generating power," Rozeno said. "As it turns, it creates some
force, some energy. I do not understand this energy. No one now alive
understands it. Understanding is one of the things I hope your
scientists may achieve--come away, Ulnar." The last was spoken as the
Indian strayed near the operator's seat.

Ulnar grunted impatiently. There was something about that seat that
lured him. But he came away. They went into another room, leaving behind
them the pool of mercury that turned slowly, like a miniature earth on
some axis of its own. Parker took one look at the contents of this room,
and gasped.

The crown jewels of England were no greater than these! Here were crowns
of pounded yellow gold; here were gargoyle masks made of the same yellow
metal; masks that sparkled with gems. Here, lying on the rock shelves,
were ingots of what looked to be solid gold, each one heavy enough to be
a full load for a grown man.

Ulnar was examining a gargoyle mask. He touched a gold bar, his old
withered fingers seeming to savor the feel of it.

Rozeno smiled gently. "Ulnar treasures these things, they were put in
his charge a very long time ago. He has been faithful to his trust."

"But--" Parker whispered.

"This is a part of Montezuma's treasure, a part that Cortez did not get.
There is as much of it here as 400 men could carry away. Ulnar was one
of Montezuma's most trusted sub-chiefs. He brought the treasure here, to
keep it for his Chieftan."

Ulnar's wrinkled face broke into a grin. "Me take good care," he said
simply. "Me clean, me polish, me save for my Chief."

"Tell me one thing?" he said.

"Gladly, my son."

"Does Johnny Retch know this is here?"

"I suppose so. All who live on our island know about it."

Muscles knotted at the corners of Parker's jaws. He pressed his arms
down against his jacket so that he could feel the guns in the pockets.
The guns felt good.

"Father Rozeno!" a voice called from a corridor outside the treasure
room. "Father Rozeno? Where are you?"

"Here I am, my dear," the priest answered.

At the sound of that voice, Bill Parker forgot all about the guns in his
pockets, Johnny Retch, Montezuma's treasure, and everything else that