ed, the young man paused, and Everett nodded
for him to continue. He was wondering whether life in Amapala might
not turn out to be more interesting than at first it had appeared, or
whether Garland was not a most charming liar.

"Ward visits the ruins every month," continued Garland. "But he takes
with him only two mule-drivers to cook and look after the pack-train,
and he doesn't let even the drivers inside the ruins. He remains at
Cobre three or four days and, to make a show, fills his saddle-bags
with broken tiles and copper ornaments. He turns them over to the
government, and it dumps them in the back yard of the palace. You
can't persuade me that he holds his concession with that junk. He's
found something else at Cobre and he shares it with Mendoza, and I
believe it's gold."

The minister smiled delightedly.

"What kind of gold?

"Maybe in the rough," said the consul. "But I prefer to think it's
treasure. The place is full of secret chambers, tombs, and
passage-ways cut through the rock, deep under the surface. I believe
Ward has stumbled on some vault where the priests used to hide their
loot. I believe he's getting it out bit by bit and going shares with
Mendoza."

"If that were so," ventured Everett, "why wouldn't Mendoza take it all?"

"Because Ward," explained the consul, "is the only one who knows where
it is. The ruins cover two square miles. You might search for years.
They tried to follow and spy on him, but Ward was too clever for them.
He turned back at once. If they don't take what he gives, they get
nothing. So they protect him from real explorers and from extradition.
The whole thing is unfair. A real archaeologist turned up here a month
ago. He had letters from the Smithsonian Institute and several big
officials at Washington, but do you suppose they would let him so much
as smell of Cobre? Not they! Not even when I spoke for him as consul.
Then he appealed to Ward, and Ward turned him down hard. You were
arriving, so he's hung on here hoping you may have more influence. His
name is Peabody; he's a professor, but he's young and full of 'get
there,' and he knows more about the ruins of Cobre now than Ward does
after having them all to himself for two years. He's good people and I
hope you'll help him."

Everett shook his head doubtfully.

"If the government has given the concession to him," he pointed out,
"no matter who Ward may be, or what its motives were for giving it