Aided by the feeble light from the moon, low down on the horizon, he
hurried along the cloister to a room back of the church, which had been
deserted and left to itself for many years, and was now almost in ruins.
Going into one corner, Father Zalvidea, by the light of his lantern,
found a small pick and shovel which, that afternoon, he had left there
for this very purpose, and set to work to dig a hole in which to bury
his treasure. Although the ground was hard, it required only a few
minutes, after the cement floor was broken through, to accomplish this,
for the box was small, and to bury it deep down was quite unnecessary.
Father Zalvidea placed the box in the hole, covered it with the earth he
had thrown to one side on a large sheet of paper he had brought with
him, and then, carefully fitting together the pieces of cement he had
broken, he sprinkled over it some of the remaining earth, to hide all
traces of the disturbance - a thing very easy to do, as the cement was
so nearly the color of the clay soil. Leaving the shovel and pick, he
wrapped what earth was left in the paper, put it under his arm, took up
the lantern, and wended his way back to his room, congratulating himself
on having hidden the money safely.

Well would it have been for the Father, had he put his box of gold coins
into the great, strong, securely padlocked chest standing in the vestry
of the church, in which were kept the money and all the valuable
articles - the gold embroidered vestments and the sacred vessels of
silver belonging to the mission. Father Zalvidea had, indeed, thought of
it, but he had felt a strong repugnance to placing his own private
property among that of the church; so, although much the better way, he
had chosen the other. And how could he know there had been a pair of
eyes watching him all the time he was busy in the deserted room? Such
was the case, however, for a young mestizo had been witness of the whole