"Yes, they do mostly. Probably he meant Taos, - whole nest of artists at
Taos."

"Well, but why in thunder then - ?"

The clerk smiled skeptically.

"Why, you see, it's something like this. Miss Hastings' bent on being an
illustrator, pays better than teaching, I suppose, or - well, at any
rate, that's what she's aiming for, - and she has an idea that if she
can only get a series of pictures, - several of them on the same
subject, you understand, - accepted by one of those Eastern magazines,
she can soon work in with some big publisher and get an order. She told
us all about it one night last winter when she was over."

"But in heaven's name, why Indians?" persisted Blair.

"Because she thinks she's found some good material here. She told me
about that, too. Seems there's an old legend connected with Catalina,
about an Indian princess and a cavern. The princess died of a broken
heart or something of the sort, I believe she said. I never heard the
particulars myself. Nobody else, either, seems to know anything about
it. But Miss Hastings says there's quite a story, and she's got it all
down pat from A to Z. She's using it for her series."

A porter brought up some newcomers and Blair stepped aside. But the
moment his man was at leisure again he cornered him at once. An idea had
come to him, an idea almost dazzling in its possibilities.

"You say she hasn't finished her series yet?"