The Gold of the Gods | Page 7

sort of aversion, if not
hostility, and I fancied that Norton, on his part, neglected no
opportunity to let the other know that he was watching him.
"I don't know much about the story," resumed Lockwood a moment
later as no one said anything. "But I do know that there is treasure in
that great old Chimu mound near Truxillo. Don Luis has the
government concession to bore into the mound, too, and we are raising
the capital to carry the scheme through to success."
He had come to the end of a sentence. Yet the inflection of his voice
showed plainly that it was not the end of the idea that had been in his
mind.
"If you knew where to dig," suddenly supplied Norton, gazing keenly
into the eyes of the soldier of fortune.
Lockwood did not answer, though it was evident that that had been the
thought unexpressed in his remarks.
The return of the Senorita to the room seemed to break the tension.
"It was the house telephone," she said, in a quiet voice. "The hall-boy
didn't know whether to admit a visitor who comes with his sympathy."
Then she turned from us to Lockwood. "You must know him," she said,
somewhat embarrassed. "Senor Alfonso de Moche."

Lockwood suppressed a frown, but said nothing, for, a moment later, a
young man came in. Almost in silence he advanced to Inez and took
her hand in a manner that plainly showed his sympathy in her
bereavement.
"I have just heard," he said simply, "and I hastened around to tell you
how much I feel your loss. If there is anything I can do- -"
He stopped, and did not finish the sentence. It was unnecessary. His
eyes finished it for him.
Alfonso de Moche was, I thought, a very handsome fellow, though not
of the Spanish type at all. His forehead was high, with a shock of
straight black hair, his skin rather copper-coloured, nose slightly
aquiline, chin and mouth firm; in fact, the whole face was refined and
intellectual, though tinged with melancholy.
"Thank you," she murmured, then turned to us. "I believe you are
acquainted with Mr. de Moche, Professor Norton?" she asked. "You
know he is taking post-graduate work at the University."
"Slightly," returned Norton, gazing at the young man in a manner that
plainly disconcerted him. "I believe I have met his mother in Peru."
Senorita Mendoza seemed to colour at the mention of Senora de Moche.
It flashed over me that, in his greeting Alfonso had said nothing of his
mother. I wondered if there might be a reason for it. Could it be that
Senorita Mendoza had some antipathy which did not include the son?
Though we did not seem to be making much progress in this way in
solving the mystery, still I felt that before we could go ahead we must
know the little group about which it centred. There seemed to be
currents and cross-currents here which we did not understand, but
which must be charted if we were to steer a straight course.
"And Professor Kennedy?" she added, turning to us.
"I think I have seen Mr. de Moche about the campus," said Craig, as I,
too, shook hands with him, "although you are not in any of my classes."
"No, Professor," concurred the young man, who was, however,
considerably older than the average student taking courses like his.
I found it quite enough to watch the faces of those about me just then.
Between Lockwood and de Moche it seemed that there existed a latent
hostility. The two eyed each other with decided disfavour. As for
Norton, he seemed to be alternately watching each of them.
An awkward silence followed, and de Moche seemed to take the cue,

for after a few more remarks to Inez he withdrew as gracefully as he
could, with a parting interchange of frigid formalities with Lockwood.
It did not take much of a detective to deduce that both of the young
men might have agreed on one thing, though that caused the most
serious of differences between them--their estimation of Inez de
Mendoza.
Inez, on her part, seemed also to be visibly relieved at his departure,
though she had been cordial enough to him. I wondered what it all
meant.
Lockwood, too, seemed to be ill at ease still. But it was a different
uneasiness, rather directed at Norton than at us. Once before I had
thought he was on the point of excusing himself, but the entrance of de
Moche seemed to have decided him to stay at least as long as his rival.
"I beg your pardon, Senorita," he now apologized, "but I really must go.
There are still some affairs which I must attend to in order to protect