that project
known, than another difficult test was offered their courage.

CHAPTER XXVII. PENETRATING GRIM SECRETS.

Bruno caught an imperfect view of moving figures at no great distance
ahead, but ere he could fairly decide just what they might be, his
red-skinned guide swiftly whispered:

"More come look. You don't say. Ixtli fool 'em--easy!"

Making not the slightest attempt to avoid the issue, the young Aztec
stepped a little in advance of Gillespie, thus casting him into partial
eclipse, speaking briskly, as he met the two Indians, only one of whom
bore a light:

"It is trouble for nothing, brothers. There is no sign here. If he saw
aught, 'twas in a dream, I think. And now--hark!"

Even there in the subterranean recesses something of the wildly excited
uproar which followed Waldo's rash attempt to go a-fishing after his
fellow men, and the sighting of that awful air-demon by the Indians,
could be heard, and, without divining its actual import, Ixtli adroitly
turned it to his own advantage.

"They have found the strange dog without!" he cried, sharply. "Come, my
brothers, else we will be too late for--hasten, all!"

But only one-half of the present group obeyed, the two Indians dashing
at full speed towards the main entrance to the city of the dead, leaving
Bruno behind, wholly unsuspected, and Ixtli chuckling gleefully over the
favourable change in the situation.

"Dey go--we come. Dis way, brother," the Aztec spoke, moving in the
opposite direction, followed willingly enough by the now pretty well
bewildered paleface.

"Whither are we going?" Bruno felt impelled to ask, after a few
moments more of blind obedience. "How are we going to get out? And my
friends,--they must have been alarmed by that great drum!"

Ixtli made response by touch rather than in words, and, giving his
companion barely time sufficient to read aright that look of warning, he
extinguished the light, leaving themselves in complete darkness.

Naturally anticipating fresh danger, Bruno strained his ears to catch
at least an inkling of its precise nature ere the trouble could fairly
close in; but only silence surrounded them,--silence, and an almost
palpable gloom.

"Not cat," assured Ixtli, in a soft-toned whisper, as he divined the
expectations entertained by his comrade in peril. "Nobody come, now. All
gone see what noise 'bout, yonder. You, me, all right. Best mek no big
talk, dough. Come--see!"

Apparently the young Az