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“Your pardon, señor,” said this Inglese, in good Spanish, bowing to me as he spoke, “but unwittingly I have overheard some of your talk with yonder woman, and I cannot understand how it comes about that you, a stranger, have so much authority over her. I wish that you would explain it to me in order that I might learn how to put a stop to such murders. These dead men were two of my best workmen, and I do not know where I shall look to replace them.”

“I cannot explain it, señor,” I answered, returning his bow, “further than to say that I have a certain rank among the Indians, on account of which they reverence me. Still, though I have no right to ask it of a stranger, I pray that you will forget any words of mine which may chance to have reached your ears, since of such authority the Government is jealous.”

“By all means, señor; they are already forgotten. Well, adios, this sight is not so pleasant that I wish to study it,” and replacing his hat upon his head, he passed on.

Although my journey proved to be in vain, seeing that the scroll I came to read had vanished, I lingered in the village of Cumarvo, alleging as the reason of my stay a hope that it might be discovered, but really, as I believe, because I desired to become friendly with this white man.