ago. I wonder if Don Mario has returned."

The men below were ascending the hill. Jose struggled to his feet and
went forth to meet them. A familiar voice greeted him cheerily.

"_Hola, Senor Padre Jose!_ _Dios mio_, but your hill is steep!"

Jose strained his eyes at the newcomer. The man quickly gained the
summit, and hurried to grasp the bewildered priest's hand.

"Love of the Virgin! don't you know me, _Senor Padre_?" he cried,
slapping Jose roundly upon the back.

The light of recognition slowly came into the priest's eyes. The man
was Don Jorge, his erstwhile traveling companion on the Magdalena
river.

"And now a cup of that coffee, if you will do me the favor, my good
_Cura_. And then tell me what ails you here," he added, seating
himself. "_Caramba_, what a town! Diego was right--the devil himself
made this place! But they say you have all taken to dying! Have you
nothing else to do? _Caramba_, I do not wonder! Such a God-forsaken
spot! Well, what is it? Speak, man!"

Jose collected his scattered thoughts. "The cholera!" he said
hoarsely.

"Cholera! _Caramba!_ so they told me down below, and I would not
believe them! But where did it come from?"

"One of our men brought it from Bodega Central."

"Bodega Central!" ejaculated Don Jorge. "Impossible! I came from there
this morning myself. Have been there two days. There isn't a trace of
cholera in the place, as far as I know! You have all gone crazy--but
small wonder!" looking out over the decrepit town.

The priest's head was awhirl. He felt his senses leaving him. His ears
were reporting things basely false. "You say--" he began in
bewilderment.

"I say what I have said, _amigo_! There is no more cholera in Bodega
Central than there is in heaven! I arrived there day before yesterday,
and left before sunrise this morning. So I should know."

Jose sank weakly down at the man's side. "But--Don Jorge--Feliz Gomez
returned from there three nights ago, and reported that a Turk, who
had come up from the coast, had died of the plague!"

Don Jorge's brows knit in perplexity. "I recall now," he said slowly,
after some moments of study. "The innkeeper did say that a Turk had
died there--some sort of intestinal trouble, I believe. When I told
him I was bound for Simiti, he laughed as if he would split, and then
began to talk about the great fright he had given a man from here.
Said he scared the fellow until his black face turned white. But I was
occupied