“For what?”

“For the theft of my mummy.”

Hervey laughed raucously.

“I guess the law can’t worry me about that after thirty years, and in a low-down country like Peru.  Your Government has shifted fifty times since I looted the corpse.”

This was quite true, and there was absolutely no chance of the skipper being brought to book.  Don Pedro looked rather disconsolate, and his gaze dropped under the glare of Hervey’s eyes, which seemed unfair, seeing that the Don was as good as the captain was evil.

“You can’t expect me to condone the theft,” he muttered.

“I reckon I don’t expect anything,” retorted Hervey coolly “I looted the corpse, I don’t deny, and—­”

“After my father had treated you like a son,” said Don Pedro bitterly.  “You were homeless and friendless, and my father took you in, only to find that you robbed him of his most precious possession.”

The skipper had the grace to blush, and shifted uneasily in his chair.

“You can’t say truer than that,” he grumbled, averting his eyes.  “I guess I’m a bad lot all through.  But a friend of mine wanted the corpse, and offered me a heap of dollars to see the business through.”

“Do you mean to say that some one asked you to steal it?”

“No,” put in Braddock unexpectedly, “for I was the friend.”

“You!” Don Pedro swung round in great astonishment, but the Professor faced him with all the consciousness of innocence.

“Yes,” he remarked quietly, “as I told you, I was in Peru thirty years ago.  I was then hunting for specimens of Inca mummies.  Vasa—­this man now called Hervey—­told me that he could obtain a splendid specimen of a mummy, and I arranged to give him one hundred pounds to procure what I wanted.  But I swear to you, De Gayangos,” continued the little man earnestly, “that I did not know he proposed to steal the mummy from you.”

“You knew it was the green mummy?” asked Don Pedro sharply.

“No, I only knew that it was a mummy.”

“Did Vasa get it for you?”

“I guess not,” said the gentleman who confessed to that name.  “The Professor went to Cuzco and got into trouble—­”

“I was carried off to the mountains by some Indians,” interpolated the Professor, “and only escaped after a year’s captivity.  I did not mind that, as it gave me the opportunity of studying a decaying civilization.  But when I returned a free man to Lima, I found that Vasa had left the country with the mummy.”

“That’s so,” assented Hervey, waving his hand.  “I got a berth as second mate on a wind-jammer sailing to Europe, and as the country wasn’t healthy for me since I’d looted the green mummy, I took it abroad and yanked it to Paris, where I sold it for a couple of hundred pounds.  With that, I changed my name and had a high old time.  I never heard of the blamed thing again until the Professor here turned up with Mr. Bolton at Pierside,