The shadows of evening had fallen and a cool breeze was blowing
in off the Gulf of Mexico when a group of persons, among whom
were the Broncho Rider Boys, gathered around the bedside of the
sick man.
It was as the physician had predicted, and when Santiago had
awakened after his long sleep, he had regained his senses,
although he was very weak. But as the day declined and the heat
lessened he had become stronger, and now at his own request,
Lucia and her friends drew around to listen to his tale.
At one side of the bed stood Lucia, the three boys and Don
Esteban. At the other stood Mr. Black, Josie and the physician,
while at the foot of the bed was Strong, with Ambrosio in his
arms, and a couple of soldiers who had the mountebank in
custody.
"As my daughter knows," began Santiago in a feeble voice, "I am a
direct descendant of the great Montezuma. My ancestor was the
guardian of the treasure which had been accumulated by the Aztec
kings for years. After the overthrow of my race by the Spanish
conquerors, there was given to my first great ancestor the
keeping of the secret of the source of the gold which had made
the city of Anahuac such a rich prize.
"This secret has been handed down through all these generations,
the one object being to use this knowledge in freeing Mexico from
the Spanish yoke.
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