“But what would you, Señor?” he cried, dusting off an antique leather chair with his berretta and proffering it to me. “What would you? I am remote, alone, in the wilderness, among Indios, and Señor mio, I see not one white man, one stranger in many years. Yet, Señor, I am not lonely. I am happy, I love the Indios, though, of a truth I must admit it--my labors are of little avail, si. They are all Christians; all come to my little church, all are baptized, all are christened and married and buried according to the rites of the Church; but--as the illustrious Señor knows--they are pagans at heart. Not one there is, I am sure, who does not in secret worship the old gods, who does not follow out the old religion. They are Christians to please me, to gain what they may, and because they feel not too certain whether the Christian or the pagan God is the more powerful. Ay de mi, Señor, the longer I dwell among the Indios, the more I feel that never will they be other than pagan at heart. But they are good children, Señor, kind and simple and lovable and generous, and I find life not dull between my religious duties and studying the ancient traditions and striving ever to unravel the mysteries of the past. And my very good friend, the Professor Alessandro, tells me in his letter you have a codex even he cannot decipher. I fear me, Señor, that if he has failed, my poor knowledge will be of little service.” But Padre José deprecated his ability and his knowledge. “Wonderful!” he cried as he looked at the codex. “It is of the Old Empire; it is a sacred codex, a religious myth and a history dealing with Kukulcan. But, Señor, it is unlike anything else. It is Señor, I am sure, a codex in cipher. Often, on the monuments, I have found inscriptions that I feel sure are cipher, and in this so wonderful codex I see some of the same symbols. That, Señor is why no one has been able to read it. One must know the key, the code, to unravel its meaning or--hold--perchance this is the key by means of which the Mayan ciphers were read. Ah, mi Señor, you may possess that which will solve the manifold mysteries of the Mayas. But, though I regret to admit it, only a Mayan of the priest-cult could decipher it.” I was terribly disappointed. I had traveled thousands of miles; had wasted months of time and exhausted my resources, only to find that I had accomplished nothing. I laughed derisively. “In that case,” I said bitterly, “the codex will never be deciphered. It is worth only its value as a specimen, curio. In order to find the man who could read it, I would have to go back several centuries and be here before the conquest. The Mayan priests are a thing of the past.” * * * * * FRAY JOSE’S eyes twinkled and he chuckled. “Perhaps, my son,” he said, “I may be able to help you to go back those several centuries. Would you care to do so and meet one of the long-dead priest clan?”