The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1900-07-11
CHAPTER XXXII.


81 heard voices!" said one.
eyes," Iheard them, too" returned
the other, 'tand shrek of terror"
cit was woman's voice! All,
Harold! Harold!"
For at that moment they stumbled
and nearly fell over the ptostrate
form of man who lay, pinned to the
earth, by one of the great trunks OF
the sycamore tree, which had fallen
all across him. The pick-ax he had
been using was still in his grasp, and
the spade had been flung to little
distance. =,
The face was partly uncovered, and
the wild, wide-open, CLASSY eyes
stared up at Dolores as she went
down over him.
The same thought had come both
to Dolores and Moray, and she an
swered his now, as if he had spoken
it aloud:
eyes" she said, sit is hel The
man who called himself Clarence
Stanley. In some way he must have
found the clew to the Mendoza treas
ure, and he was digging for it when
the earthquake overlook, him.
Wretched man! He has paid the
penalty-he is quite dead-and, Oh,
Harold, is it not like Fate itself, or
the visible hand of heaven? How
horrible! How awfull'
She covered her face with her hands
and turned away shaken and shudder-
ing.
And, truly, something very strange
and awful had occurred.
The sycamore, in falling, had flung
that part of the trunk on which was
carved the outline of the Indian
woman's figure in such way, that 1T
fell with all its force against the head
of her cruel and treacherous de-
scendant; and, with that treacherous
blow, the point of the arrowhead had
been driven into the center Of the
hiack, heart shaped mole through the
'Stemple, and crashing into the cunning,
strong, wicked brain beneath, as the
nail of Jael had smitten Sisera.
"He is past all help or further pun
ishment," said Moray, drawing
Dolores gently away from the fatal
spot. ''Let me take you home.
dearest; we will send men here at
once to do all that is left to do, now.
But the woman! 1t must have been
his wife that was with him; it was
certainly a woman's voice that gave
that terrible cry!'
Nothing will hurt Olive Gaye!"
said Dolores, bitterly. "Such peo-
pie are like cats; they always alight
on their feet. But we will look about
for her, Harold, since she is a
woman"
'I will take yon home first, DOL
ores"
But long before they reached the
house, they were met by Mr.. and
Mrs. Travers and q troop of their
work people, who were out in search
of them; and the brief excitement
following the excitement having al
ready subsidized, the men were more
than willing for new and more le-
gitimate excitement in extricating the
body of the dead man from the fallen
tree, which had served as an aveng-
ing thunderbolt to the spirit Of the
long-forgotten Indian princess.
The brilliant light Of new morning
IT'S shining on the wreck of the syca-
more trees before the debris of the
earthquake and the body of the dead
had been taken away, and notrace had
been found of the dead mans wife,
although diligent search had been
made in every direction; and Mrs.
Travers, with Dolores, having been
assured that all signs of the recent
tragedy had been removed, stood be-
side the spot where the false Clarence
Stanley and still more false Carlos
Mendoza had met his death.
"What an exquisite morning." said
Dolores. ''It is difficult to realize
that it has risen over such night of
horror. The beautiful sky smiles as
if it looked on q new world-just as it
smiled on that great man, four hun
dred years ago, who gave a new world
to mankind"
eyes. DEAR" said Mrs. Travers,
standing by the edge of the great
trench that had been opened, first by
the pick and spade, and afterward
torn asunder by the earthquake;
"and here at last lies the great Men
doza treasure, uncovered in oil its
glory, and smiling back with thou
san! brilliant, glittering eyes! Looki
Look! Everybody come here! The
lid has been shaken from the box,
and just see the river of precious
stones that flash back the light from
every corner!'
"Yes," said Dolores, gravely;
"that must be the treasure. I had
forgotten it.
Mr.. Travers, who had come quickly
in answer to his wife's shrill cries,
now stopped and picked up some
pieces Of dull, yellowish stone and
earth, with here and there bright
specks that flashed like yellow light.
"Yes," he said, musingly, "the
Mendoza treasure, indeed. This
opens vein that will lead to the dis
covery of the great lost mine of the
Santiago Canyon. A myth it has
been thought by mining men, but a
fact, as this will prove; and this bit of
land, for several acres. round about,
belongs TO the Senorita Mendoza, the
lost on1 only ramainino nortion of all