clearer to me every day that there are no such
things as miracles--never were! Christ Jesus _never_ performed
miracles, if by that we mean that he set aside God's laws for the
benefit of mankind. But he acted in perfect accord with those
laws--and no wonder the results seemed miraculous to dull-witted human
minds, who had always seen only their coarse, material thought
externalized in material laws and objects, in chance, mixed good and
evil, and a God of human characteristics!"

"Yes--I--guess so, Padre dear--only, I don't understand your big
words."

"Ah, _chiquita_, you understand far, far better than I do! Why, I am
learning it all from you! But come, now for the lessons."

And Jose had learned by this time, too, that between merely
recognizing righteousness as right-thinking, and actually practicing
it--putting it to the test so as to "prove" God--there is a vast
difference. Things cannot be "thought" into existence, nor evils
"thought" away--the stumbling block of the mere tyro in the study of
mental cause and effect. A vast development in spirituality must
precede those "signs following" before mankind shall again do the
works of the Master. Jose knew this; and he bowed in humble
submission, praying for daily light.

* * * * *

At dusk Rosendo returned. "_Bien_, Padre, I have it now, I think!" he
cried excitedly, pacing back and forth in the little room.

"What, Rosendo?" asked the wondering priest.

"The secret of the little box! Come, while we eat I will tell you!"

The little group gathered about the table, while Rosendo unfolded his
theory.

"I went to Boque this morning to talk with Dona Lucia. She is very
aged, the oldest inhabitant in these parts. _Bien_, I knew that she
had known Don Ignacio, although she was not his slave. Her story
brought back to me also the things my father had often told me about
Don Ignacio's last trip to Simiti. Putting all these things together,
I think I now know how the little box came to be hidden in the altar
of the old church."

The old man's eyes sparkled with happiness, while his auditors drew
closer about him to drink in his dramatic recital. For Rosendo, like a
true Latin, reveled in a wonder-tale. And his recitals were always
accompanied by profuse gesticulation and wonderful facial expressions
and much rolling of the eyes.

"_Bien_," he continued, "it was this way. Don Ignacio's possessions in
Guamoco were enormou