has a plan for a well-timbered tunnel which can be driven at the right
point."

She said it with a sort of quiet assurance that conveyed the impression
without her saying it that the venture was somehow doomed to failure,
that these desecrators were merely toying with fate. All through her
remarks one could feel that she suspected Mendoza of having been
responsible for the downfall and tragedy of her brother, who had
betrayed the age-old secret.

Her eyes assumed a far-away, dreamy look as she went on. "You must know
that we Peruvians have been so educated that we never explore ruins for
hidden treasure--not even if we have the knowledge of engineering to do
so."

Apparently she was thinking of her son and his studies at the
University. One could follow her thoughts as they flitted from him to
the beautiful girl with whom she had seen us.

"We are a peculiar race," she proceeded. "We seldom intermarry with
other races. We are as proud as Senor Mendoza, as proud of our unmixed
lineage as your 'belted earls.'"

She said it with a quiet dignity quite in contrast with the nervous,
hasty manner of Don Luis. There was no doubt that the race feeling cut
deep.

Kennedy had been following her closely and I could see that the cross
currents of superstition, avarice and race hatred in the case presented
a tangle that challenged him.

"Thank you," he murmured, rising. "You have told me quite enough to make
me think seriously before I join in any such undertaking."

She smiled enigmatically and we bowed ourselves out.

"A most baffling woman," was Craig's only comment as we rode down again
in the elevator to wait for the return of Don Luis and the Senorita.

Scarcely had their chair set them down at the inn than Alfonso seemed to
appear from nowhere. He had evidently been waiting in the shadow of the
porch for them.

We stood aside and watched the little drama. For a few minutes the
Senorita talked with him. One did not need to be told that she had a
deep regard for the young man. She wanted to see him, yet she did not
want to see him. Don Luis, on the contrary, seemed to become quite
restive and impatient again and to wish to cut the conversation short.

It was self-evident that Alfonso was deeply in love with Inez. I
wondered whether, after all, the trouble was that the proud old
Castilian Don Luis would never consent to the marriage of his daughter
to one of Indian blood? Was he afraid of a love forbidden by race