he old
captain), was accepted by Pike with equal serenity, as both men were
only too well pleased to humor the Indian ranch people in any friendly
concessions, for back of some of those alert black eyes there were
surely inherited records of old pagan days, and old legends of golden
veins in the hills.

The fact that they were left practically nameless in a strange
territory did not occur to either of them, and would not have
disturbed them if it had. They had met no American but Whitely since
they first struck Mesa Blanca. One month Kit had conscientiously stuck
to the ranch cares while Whitely took his family out, and Pike had
made little sallies into the hills alone.

On Whitely's return he had made an errand to Soledad and taken Rhodes
and Pike along that they might view the crumbled walls of old Soledad
Mission, back of the ranch house. The ancient rooms of the mission
padres were now used principally as corrals, harness shop, and storage
rooms.

The situation in itself was one of rare beauty;--those old padres
knew!

It was set on a high plain or mesa, facing a wide valley spreading
miles away to the south where mother-of-pearl mountains were ranged
like strung jewels far against the Mexican sky. At the north,
slate-blue foothills lifted their sharp-edged shoulders three miles
away, but only blank walls of Soledad faced the hills, all portals of
the old mission appeared to have faced south, as did Soledad. The door
facing the hills was a myth. And as Rhodes stood north of the old
wall, and searched its thirty-mile circle, he could understand how
four generations of gold seekers had failed to find even a clue to the
wealth those unknown padres had looked on, and sent joyous evidence of
to the viceroy of the south. It would take years of systematic search
to cover even half the visible range. A man could devote a long
lifetime to a fruitless search there, and then some straying burro
might uncover it for an Indian herder who would fill his poncho, and
make a sensation for a week or two, and never find the trail again!

"It's just luck!" said Kit thinking it all over as he tramped along
the arroya bed, "it either belongs to you, or it doesn't. No man on
earth can buy it and make it stay, but if it is yours, no man can keep
you from it entirely."

"What the devil are you yammering about?" asked Pike grumpily.

"Oh, I was just thinking of how Whitely exploded our little balloon of
hopes when he took us over t