The Gold of the Gods | Page 4

"You can read mystery-- like
a book?"
Kennedy smiled encouragingly. "Hardly as my friend Walter here often
paints me," he returned. "Still, now and then, we are able to use the vast
knowledge of wise men the world over to help those in trouble. Tell
me--everything," he soothed, as though knowing that to talk would
prove a safety-valve for her pent-up emotions. "Perhaps I can help
you."
For a moment she did not know what to do. Then, almost before she
knew it, apparently, she began to talk to him, forgetting that we were in
the room.
"Tell me how the thing happened, all that you know, how you found it
out," prompted Craig.
"Oh, it was midnight, last night; yes, late," she returned wildly. "I was
sleeping when my maid, Juanita, wakened me and told me that Mr.
Lockwood was in the living room and wanted to see me, must see me. I
dressed hurriedly, for it came to me that something must be the matter.
I think I must have come out sooner than they expected, for before they
knew it I had run across the living room and looked through the door
into the den, you call it, over there."
She pointed at a heavy door, but did not, evidently could not, let her
eyes rest on it.
"There was my father, huddled in a chair, and blood had run out from

an ugly wound in his side. I screamed and fell on my knees beside him.
But," she shuddered, "it was too late. He was cold. He did not answer."
Kennedy said nothing, but let her weep into her dainty lace
handkerchief, though the impulse was strong to do anything to calm her
grief.
"Mr. Lockwood had come in to visit him on business, had found the
door into the hall open, and entered. No one seemed to be about; but
the lights were burning. He went on into the den. There was my
father--"
She stopped, and could not go on at all for several minutes.
"And Mr. Lockwood, who is he?" asked Craig gently.
"My father and I, we have been in this country only a short time," she
replied, trying to speak in good English in spite of her emotion, "with
his partner in a--a mining venture--Mr. Lockwood."
She paused again and hesitated, as though in this strange land of the
north she had no idea of which way to turn for help. But once started,
now, she did not stop again.
"Oh," she went on passionately, "I don't know what it was that came
over my father. But lately he had been a changed man. Sometimes I
thought he was--what you call--mad. I should have gone to see a doctor
about him," she added wildly, her feelings getting the better of her.
"But it is no longer a case for a doctor. It is a case for a detective--for
some one who is more than a detective. You cannot bring him back,
but--"
She could not go on. Yet her broken sentence spoke volumes, in her
pleading, soft, musical voice, which was far more pleasing to the ear
than that of the usual Latin-American.
I had heard that the women of Lima were famed for their beauty and
melodious voices. Senorita Inez surely upheld their reputation.
There was an appealing look now in her soft deep-brown eyes, and her
thin, delicate lips trembled as she hurried on with her strange story.
"I never saw my father in such a state before," she murmured. "For
days all he had talked about was the 'big fish,' the peje grande,
whatever that might mean--and the curse of Mansiche."
The recollection of the past few days seemed to be too much for her.
Almost before we knew it, before Norton, who had started to ask her a
question, could speak, she excused herself and fled from the room,

leaving only the indelible impression of loveliness and the appeal for
help that was irresistible.
Kennedy turned to Norton. But just then the door to the den opened and
we saw our friend Dr. Leslie. He saw us, too, and took a few steps in
our direction.
"What--you here, Kennedy?" he greeted in surprise as Craig shook
hands and introduced Norton. "And Jameson, too? Well, I think you've
found a case at last that will baffle you."
As we talked he led the way across the living room and into the den
from which he had just come.
"It is very strange," he said, telling at once all that he had been able to
discover. "Senor Mendoza was discovered here about midnight last
night by his partner, Mr. Lockwood. There seem to be no clues to how
or by whom he was murdered. No locks had been broken. I have