you. He is said to be the only living man who knows the secret of the
trove in the ruins of the sacred temple of the ancient city. The
Indians believe that this treasure, which the Aztecs hid from the
Spaniards, is guarded by a terrible phantom dog, the specter of one
of the great dogs of Fernando Cortez which ravened among their Aztec
ancestors. They fear the specter of this fabled Perro de la Malinche
more than anything else on earth, as it is said to harrow their souls
in Hades as it ravened their bodies when in the flesh."

After smoking a few cigarritos, my friend proposed to ride home, as
there was really nothing else to be done. We rode slowly along,
enjoying the beautiful night of this faultless climate, and I shall
ever remember this night to my last day. There was a pleasant,
refreshing odor in the air, the scent of the wild thyme which grows
in these sand dunes. The moon rose over the Manzana range and flooded
the broad valley with its soft, silvery rays. Suddenly, at a sharp
turn of the trail, we found ourselves surrounded by silent forms
arisen from the misty ground. "Don Reyes Alvarado," spoke the voice
of the Indian, known as the macho, "I have come for revenge and am
now ready to wipe out the insults you heaped on me when you charged
me with the theft of your calves. I challenge thee to fight. Alight
from thy horse, cowardly Spaniard! To-night of all nights shalt thou
feel the Indians' blade between thy ribs." "Fight him, amigo," I
said. "I shall enforce fair play." But my friend Reyes whom I knew to
be a man of both strength and courage, weakened, being cowed with the
superstition of the unlucky Noche Triste. "Tomorrow I shall fight
thee, Indian," he answered "not at nighttime, like a thieving
coyote." "If thou wert not astride thy horse and out of my reach,
thou wouldst not dare say that to me, thou cuckold dupe of the
Americans!" sneered the Indian. This insult to my companion angered