revolvers and
jumping from their hammocks, ran out just in time to see a tall figure
cross a patch of moonlit sward and disappear in the cactus jungle.

Both fired in the direction, but of course aimlessly, and it was with the
greatest difficulty they succeeded in keeping the great dog from following
into the bush.

They were disturbed no more that night; and daylight quite banished their
fears, though it could not dispel the mystery of the newly-dug grave.

Indeed, they could even afford to joke a little over the matter now.

'There is something in it, depend upon that,' said Dugald, as the two
stood together looking into the hole.

'There doesn't seem to be,' said Archie, quizzingly.

'And I mean to probe it to the bottom.'

'Suppose you commence now, Dugald. Believe me, there is no time like the
present. Here are the tools. They look quite antediluvian. Do you think
now that it really was a flesh-and-blood Indian we saw here; or was it the
ghost of some murdered priest? And has he been digging down here to
excavate his own old bones, or have a peep to see that they are safe?'

'Archie,' said Dugald, at last, as if he had not listened to a word of his
companion's previous remarks, 'Archie, we won't go shooting to-day.'

'No?'

'No, we will go home instead, and bring Moncrieff and my brothers here. I
begin to think this is no grave after all.'

'Indeed, Dugald, and why?'

'Why, simply for this reason: Yambo has told me a wonderful blood-curdling
story of two hermit priests who lived here, and who had found treasure
among the hills, and were eventually murdered and buried in this very
ruin. According to the tradition the slaughtering Indians were themselves
afterwards killed, and since then strange appearances have taken place
from time to time, and until we made a shooting-box of the ruin no Gauchos
could be found bold enough to go inside it, nor would any Indian come
within half a mile of the place. That they have got more courageous now we
had ample evidence last night.'

'And you think that--'

'I think that Indians are not far away, and that--but come, let us saddle
our mules and be off.'

It was high time, for at that very moment over a dozen pairs of fierce
eyes were watching them from the cactus jungle. Spears were even poised
ready for an attack, and only perhaps the sight of that ferocious-looking
dog restrained them.

No one could come more speedily to a conclusion than Moncrieff. He hardly