Helen looked at him swiftly. He had added the last item almost as an
afterthought. She imagined that he had embellished the old tale from
his own recent experience, and, further, that Mr. Alan Howard was
making fun of them and was no adept in the science of fabrication.

'They go further,' Howard spun out his tale. 'Somewhere in the desert
country to the north there is, I believe, a tribe of Hidden People that
the white man has never seen. The interesting thing about them is that
they are governed by a young and altogether maddeningly pretty goddess
who is white and whose name is Yahoya. When they come right down to
the matter of giving names,' he added gravely, 'how is a man to go any
further than just say, "_Quién sabe_?"'

'That is stupid.' said Longstreet irascibly. 'It's a man's chief
affair in life to _know_. These absurd legends----'

'Don't you think, papa,' said Helen coolly, 'that instead of taxing Mr.
Howard's memory and--and imagination, it would be better if you asked
him about our way from here on?'

Howard chuckled. Professor Longstreet set aside his cup, cleared his
throat and agreed with his daughter.

'I am prospecting,' he announced, 'for gold. We are headed for what is
known as the Last Ridge country. I have a map here.'

He drew it from his pocket, neatly folded, and spread it out. It was a
map such as is to be purchased for fifty cents at the store in San
Juan, showing the main roads, towns, waterholes and trails. With a
blue pencil he had marked out the way they planned to go. Howard bent