III
THE ARCHAEOLOGICAL DETECTIVE
"I think I'll go into the University Library," Craig remarked, as weleft Norton before his building. "I want to refresh my mind on some ofthose old Peruvian antiquities and traditions. What the Senorita hintedat may prove to be very important. I suppose you will have to turn in astory to the Star soon?"
"Yes," I agreed, "I'll have to turn in something, although I'd preferto wait."
"Try to get an assignment to follow the case to the end," suggestedCraig. "I think you'll find it worth while. Anyhow, this will give youa chance for a breathing space, and, if I have this thing doped outright, you won't get another for some time. I'll meet you over in thelaboratory in a couple of hours."
Craig hurried up the long flight of white-marble steps to the libraryand disappeared, while I jumped on the subway and ran downtown to theoffice.
It took me, as I knew it would, considerably over a couple of hours toclear things up at the Star, so that I could take advantage of aspecial arrangement which I had made, so that I could, when a casewarranted it, co-operate with Kennedy. My story was necessarily brief,but that was what I wanted just now. I did not propose to have thewhole field of special-feature writers camping on my preserve.
Uptown I hurried again, afraid that Kennedy had finished and might havebeen called away. But when I reached the laboratory he was not there,and I found that he had not been. Up and down I paced restlessly. Therewas nothing else to do but wait. If he was unable to keep hisappointment here with me, I knew that he would soon telephone. What wasit, I wondered, that kept him delving into the archaeological lore ofthe library?
I had about given him up, when he hurried into the laboratory in a highstate of excitement.
"What did you find?" I queried. "Has anything happened?"
"Let me tell you first what I found in the library," he replied,tilting his hat back on his head and alternately thrusting andwithdrawing his fingers in his waistcoat pockets, as if in some waythat might help him to piece together some scattered fragments of astory which he had just picked up.
"I've been looking up that hint that the Senorita dropped when she usedthose words peje grande, which mean, literally, 'big fish,'" heresumed. "Walter, it fires the imagination. You have read of the wealththat Pizarro found in Peru, of course." Visions of Prescott flashedthrough my mind as he spoke.
"Well, where are the gold and silver of the conquistadores? Gone to themelting-pot, centuries ago. But is there none left? The Indians in Perubelieve so, at any rate. And, Walter, there are persons who would stopat nothing to get at the secret.
"It is a matter of history that soon after the conquest a vast fortunewas unearthed of which the King of Spain's fifth amounted to fivemillion dollars. That treasure was known as the peje chica--the littlefish. One version of the story tells that an Inca ruler, the greatCacique Mansiche, had observed with particular attention the kindnessof a young Spaniard toward the people of the conquered race. Also, hehad observed that the man was comparatively poor. At any rate, herevealed the secret of the hiding-place of the peje chica, on conditionthat a part of the wealth should be used to advance the interests ofthe Indians.
"The most valuable article discovered was in the form of a fish ofsolid gold and so large that the Spaniards considered it a rare prize.But the Cacique assured his young friend that it was only the littlefish, that a much greater treasure existed, worth many times the valueof this one.
"The sequel of the story is that the Spaniard forgot his promise, wentoff to Spain, and spent all his gold. He was returning for the pejegrande, of which he had made great boasts, but before he could get ithe was killed. Prescott, I believe, gives another version, in which hesays that the Spaniard devoted a large part of his wealth to the reliefof the Indians and gave large sums to the Peruvian churches. Otherstories deny that it was Mansiche who told the first secret, but thatit was another Indian. One may, I suppose, pay his money and take hischoice. But the point, as far as we are concerned in this case, is thatthere is still believed to be the great fish, which no one has found.Who knows? Perhaps, somehow, Mendoza had the secret of the peje grande?"
Kennedy paused, and I could feel the tense interest with which hisdelving into the crumbling past had now endowed this alreadyfascinating case.
"And the curse?" I put in.
"About that we do not know," he replied. "Except that we do know thatMansiche was the great Cacique or ruler of northern Peru. The nativesare believed to have buried a far greater treasure than even that whichthe Spaniards carried off. Mansiche is said to have left a curse on anynative who ever divulged the whereabouts of the treasure, and the cursewas also to fall on any Spaniard who might discover it. That is all weknow--yet. Gold was used lavishly in the temples. That great hoard isreally the Gold of the Gods. Surely, as we have seen it so far in thiscase, it must be cursed."
There was a knock on the laboratory door, and I sprang to open it,expecting to find that it was something for Kennedy. Instead therestood one of the office boys of the Star.
"Why, hello, Tommy," I greeted him. "What seems to be the matter now?"
"A letter for you, Mr. Jameson," he replied, handing over a plainenvelope. "It came just after you left. The Boss thought it might beimportant--something about that story, I guess. Anyhow, he told me totake it up to you on my way home, sir."
I looked at it again. It bore simply my name and the address of theStar, not written, but, strange to say, printed in ungainly, roughcharacters, as though some one were either not familiar with writingEnglish or desired to conceal his handwriting.
"Where did it come from--and how?" I asked, as I tore the envelope open.
"I don't know where, sir," replied Tommy. "A boy brought it. Said a manuptown gave him a quarter to deliver it to you."
I looked at the contents in blank amazement. There was nothing in theletter except a quarter sheet of ordinary size note paper such as thatused in typewritten correspondence.
Printed on it, in characters exactly like those on the outside of theenvelope, were the startling words:
"BEWARE THE CURSE OF MANSICHE ON THE GOLD OF THE GODS."
Underneath this inscription appeared the rude drawing of a dagger inwhich some effort had evidently been made to make it appear three-sided.
"Well, of all things, what do you think of that?" I cried, tossing thething over to Kennedy.
He took it and read it; his face puckered deeply. "I'm not surprised,"he said, a moment later, looking up. "Do you know, I was just about totell you what happened at the library. I had a feeling all the time Iwas there of being watched. I don't know why or how, but, somehow, Ifelt that some one was interested in the books I was reading. It mademe uncomfortable. I was late, anyhow, and I decided not to give themthe satisfaction of seeing me any more--at least in the library. So Ihave had a number of the books on Peru which I wanted reserved, andthey'll be sent over later, here. No, I'm not surprised that youreceived this. Would you remember the boy?" he asked of Tommy.
"I think so," replied Tommy. "He didn't have on a uniform, though. Itwasn't a messenger."
There was no use to question him further. He had evidently told allthat he knew, and finally we had to let him go, with a partinginjunction to keep his eyes open and his mouth shut.
Kennedy continued to study the note on the quarter sheet of paper longafter the boy had gone.
"You know," he remarked thoughtfully, after a while, "as nearly as Ican make the thing out with the slender information that we have sofar, the weirdest superstitions seem to cluster about that dagger whichNorton lost. I wouldn't be surprised if it took us far back into thedim past of the barbaric splendour of the lost Inca civilization ofPeru."
He waved the sheet of paper for emphasis. "You see, some one has usedit here as a sign of terror. Perhaps somehow it bore the secret of thebig fish--who knows? None of the writers and explorers have ever foundit. The most they can say is that it may be handed down from father toson through a long line. At a
ny rate, the secret of the hiding-placeseems to have been safely kept. No one has ever found the treasure. Itwould be strange, wouldn't it, if it remained for sometwentieth-century civilized man to unearth the thing and start againthe curse that historians say was uttered and seems always to havefollowed the thing?"
"Kennedy, this affair is getting on my nerves already."
While Craig was speaking the door of the laboratory had opened withoutour hearing it, and there stood Norton again. He had waited until Craighad finished before he had spoken.
We looked at him, startled, ourselves.
"I had some work to do after I left you," went on Norton, withoutstopping. "In my letter-box were several letters, but I forgot to lookat them until just now, when I was leaving. Then I picked themup--and--look at this thing that was among them."
Norton laid down on the laboratory table a plain envelope and a quartersheet of paper on which were printed, except for his own name insteadof mine, an almost exact replica of the note which I had received.
"BEWARE THE CURSE OF MANSICHE ON THE GOLD OF THE GODS."
Kennedy and I looked at him. Already, evidently, he had seen thatKennedy held in his hand the note that had come to me.
"I can't make anything out of it," went on Norton, evidently muchworried. "First I lose the dagger. Next you say it was used to murderMendoza. Then I get this. Now, if any one can get into the Museum tosteal the dagger, they could get in to carry out any threat of revenge,real or fancied."
Looked at in that respect, I felt that it was indeed a real cause ofworry for Norton. But, then, it flashed over me, was not my own caseworse? I was to be responsible for telling the story. Might not someunseen hand strike at me, perhaps sooner than at him?
Kennedy had taken the two notes and was scanning them eagerly.
Just then an automobile drew up outside, and a moment later we heard atap at the door which Kennedy had closed after the entrance of Norton.I opened it.
"Is Professor Kennedy here?" I heard a voice inquire. "I'm one of theorderlies at the City Hospital, next to the Morgue, where Dr. Lesliehas his laboratory. I've a message for Professor Kennedy, if he's in."
Kennedy took the envelope, which bore the stamp of Dr. Leslie'sdepartment, and tore it open.
"My dear Kennedy," he read, in an undertone. "I've been engaged ininvestigating that poison which probably surrounds the wound in theMendoza case, but as yet have nothing to report. It is certainly noneof the things which we ordinarily run up against. Enclosed you willfind a slip of paper and the envelope which it came in--something, Itake it, that has been sent me by a crank. Would you treat it seriouslyor disregard it? Leslie."
As Kennedy had unfolded Leslie's own letter a piece of paper hadfluttered to the floor. I picked it up mechanically, and only nowlooked at it, as Craig finished reading.
On it was another copy of the threat that had been sent to both Nortonand myself!
The hospital orderly had scarcely gone when another tap came at thedoor.
"Your books from the library, Professor," announced a student who wasemployed in the library as part payment of his tuition. "I've signedthe slip for them, sir."
He deposited the books on a desk, a huge pile of them, which reachedfrom his outstretched arms to his chin. As he did so the pressure ofhis arms released the pile of books and the column collapsed.
From a book entitled "New and Old Peru," which fell with the pile,slipped a plain white envelope. Kennedy saw it before either of us, andseized it.
"Here's one for me," he said, tearing it open.
Sure enough, in the same rude printing on a quarter sheet were thewords:
"BEWARE THE CURSE OF MANSICHE ON THE GOLD OF THE GODS."
We could only stare at each other and at that tell-tale sign of theInca dagger underneath.
What did it mean? Who had sent the warnings?
Kennedy alone seemed to regard the affair as if with purely scientificinterest. He took the four pieces of paper and laid them down beforehim on the table. Then he looked up suddenly.
"They match perfectly," he said quietly, gathering them up and placingthem in a wallet which he carried. "All the indentures of the tearingcorrespond. Four warnings seem to have been sent to those who arelikely to find out something of the secret."
Norton seemed to have gained somewhat of his composure now that he hadbeen able to talk to some one.
"What are you going to do--give it up?" he asked tensely.
"Nothing could have insured my sticking to it harder," answered Craiggrimly.
"Then we'll all have to stick together," said Norton slowly. "We allseem to be in the same boat."
As he rose to go he extended a hand to each of us.
"I'll stick," repeated Kennedy, with that peculiar bulldog look ofintensity on his face which I had come to know so well.