"Baigadd? Royal city? You talk strangely, Mr. Munn. Where is the castle? Where are Meigs, Markham, and Popham? And Professor Quinn? Are we";—he started forward and looked wildly around—"still in the castle? But no, that can’t be. You just said we were somewhere else. I beg your pardon, Mr. Munn. I am confused and hardly know what I am saying." I began an explanation, going patiently into every detail, and when I finally finished Gilhooly knew as much about our situation as I did. For some time Gilhooly walked up and down the road, passing and repassing the heap of gold. At last he paused beside it. "We should return this treasure to its owner, Mr. Munn," said he, and he dropped the black stone on the yellow pile. "From what you tell me, this is a strange planet and strangely peopled. Yet there is superstition here as well as in our native orb—as these wonder tales about the Bolla will bear evidence." "I think with you, sir," said I. "The Bolla is simply a fetish and its miraculous powers are purely imaginary." "That is the sensible way to look at it. Suppose we load our pockets with the gold and start back with it to the city from whence it was taken?" I assented and suggested using our coats as improvised bags for the easier transportation of the king’s wealth, and we stripped to our shirt sleeves and set about our work. In half an hour we had collected all the scattered treasure, had bound it up in our coats and had started back. Gilhooly preserved a pensive silence. His thoughts were far away and he seemed entirely oblivious of the fact that I was trudging along at his side. It was only when we turned an angle in the road and came face to face with Quinn, Meigs, Markham, and Popham that Gilhooly showed any interest in our present situation. *CHAPTER XVII.* *A CHANGE OF HEART.* The meeting between Gilhooly and his brother exiles was most affecting. In the general joy at finding the ex-railway magnate restored to reason the matter of the imperial exchequer was temporarily lost sight of. And I think the man who rejoiced most over Gilhooly’s returned sanity was Quinn. The professor’s beady little eyes were fairly glowing as he caught and clung to Gilhooly’s hand after the others had expressed their pleasure and tendered congratulations. "This is a glad day for me, Mr. Gilhooly!" exclaimed the professor. "I had taken myself very much to task on account of your clouded mind." "Your reproach of yourself was well merited," spoke up Meigs, who always had a venomous shaft in his quiver for Quinn. "Small thanks to you that our friend is himself again." "Gently, Mr. Meigs, gently," came from Gilhooly. "I do not find Professor Quinn in the wrong in any particular." Popham, Meigs, and Markham regarded Gilhooly with open-mouthed amaze. I think the professor also was startled; I know at least that I was.