very pretty girl of Spanish and Indian descent, entered softly.

"Mr. Lockwood," she whispered, but not so low that we could not
hear.

"Won't you ask him to come in, Nita?" she replied.

A moment later a young man pushed open the door--a tall, clean-cut
young fellow, whose face bore the tan of a sun much stronger than
any about New York. As I took his appraisal, I found him
unmistakably of the type of American soldier of fortune who has
been carried by the wander-spirit down among the romantic
republics to the south of our own.

"Professor Kennedy," began Senorita Mendoza, presenting us all in
turn, "let me introduce Mr. Lockwood, my father's partner in
several ventures which brought us to New York."

As we shook hands I could not help feeling that the young mining
engineer, for such he proved to be by ostensible profession, was
something more to her than a mere partner in her father's schemes.

"I believe I've met Professor Norton," he remarked, as they shook
hands. "Perhaps he remembers when we were in Lima."

"Perfectly," replied Norton, returning the penetrating glance in
kind. "Also in New York," he added.

Lockwood turned abruptly. "Are you quite sure you are able to
stand the strain of this interview?" he asked Inez in a low tone.