He could not linger too long over one picture, however, for he had discovered that there were others in that volume which were as brilliantly colored and as interesting. On the whole, it was not necessary to hunt for anything better than this the first evening, and it appeared as if he were asking a useless question of the steel-clad warrior in the corner, when at last he turned to him to say: "Did you ever see anything like this before? I never did. Were you there, in any of these battles? This is the way that Cortes and his cavalry scared the Indians, is it? They were awfully afraid of horses. You can buy horses for almost nothing, nowadays, anywhere in Mexico. I've learned how to ride 'em, too, but didn't I get pitched off by some of those ponies! It would have scared mother half to death. I wish I could see her to-night, and show her some of these pictures. I'd like to see Bob and the girls, too. They never saw a book like this." He had examined a number of the pictures, and the lamp was burning fairly well, but a long time had elapsed since he came into that room, and he was not at all aware of it. "Senor Carfora?" called out a voice in the doorway. "Oh, you are here. You did light the lamp. I was almost afraid you were in the dark." "No, I'm not," said Ned. "I made it burn, and I've been looking at all sorts of things. These pictures are just wonderful." "Oh!" she said, "I would not be in this room in the dark for anything! I know all those things in that book, though. They are hideous! But they say that that suit of armor has the worst kind of ghost in it." "Maybe it has," said Ned. "I don't believe he can get out, anyhow. He's just stuck in it. I'd rather wear the clothes I have on." "Well," she replied, "mother sent me to find if you were here, and it is dreadfully late--" "Oh, yes!" interrupted Ned. "I suppose it is time for me to go to bed. I'll go, but I mean to see all there is in this library, senorita. I won't try to read it all. I don't care for ghosts, but I'd like to see one." "I do not care for them in the daytime, either," she told him. "But old Margarita, the Tlascalan, says that they come at night and sit here and tell stories of all the Mexican idol gods. All of them hate us, too, because we turned them out of their temples, and I hate them." "I'm glad they are gone, anyhow," said Ned, but it was really time to go, and he carried some of the most brilliant of those illustrations into some of his dreams that night. CHAPTER XI. NED'S NEWS "Hullo, young man! I've been looking for you. How are you?" "Captain Kemp!" shouted Ned, in astonishment. "Where did you come from? Who dreamed of seeing you here?" "Nobody, I hope," said the captain; "but here I am, and I've brought you half a dozen letters. They are among my baggage. First thing, though, tell me all about yourself. Where have you been?"