"You see, I've lived among them. They are a
hot-blooded race. Besides, as you perhaps have read, they have
some queer poisons down in South America. I mean to run no
unnecessary chances."
"I suppose you suspected all along that the dagger had something
to do with the Gold of the Gods, did you not?" I hinted.
Norton paused before answering, as though to weigh his words.
"Suspected--yes," he replied. "But, as I told you, I have had no
chance to read the inscription on it. I can't say that I took it
very seriously--until now."
"It's not possible that Stuart Whitney, who, I understand, is
deeply interested in South America, may have had some inkling of
the value of the dagger, is it?" I asked thoughtfully.
For a full minute Norton gazed at me. "I hadn't thought of that,"
he admitted at length. "That's a new idea to me."
Yet somehow I knew that Norton had thought of it, though he had
not yet spoken about it. Was it through loyalty to the man who had
contributed to financing his expeditions to South America?
"Do you know Senora de Moche well?" I ventured, a moment later.
"Fairly well," he replied. "Why?"
"What do you think of her?"
"Rather a clever woman," he replied noncommittally.
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