She said it to Norton, but it was really meant for Kennedy.  I know Craig shared my own feelings.  It was a rare pleasure to work for her.  She seemed most appreciative of anything that was done for her in her defenceless position.

As we passed out of the apartment house and sought our cab again, Kennedy was the first to speak, and to Norton.

“Do you know anything more about these men, Lockwood and de Moche?” he queried, as we sped uptown.

“I don’t know a thing,” he replied cautiously.  “I—­I’d much prefer not to talk of suspicions.”

“But the dagger,” insisted Kennedy.  “Have you no suspicions of what became of it and who took it?”

“I’d prefer not to talk of mere suspicions,” he repeated.

Little was said as we turned in at the campus and at last drew up before Norton’s wing of the Museum.

“You will let me know of any development, no matter how trivial?” asked Kennedy, as we parted.  “Your dagger seems to have stirred up more trouble than there was any reason to suppose when you came to me first.”

“I should say so,” he agreed.  “I don’t know how to repay the interest you have shown in its recovery.  If anything else materializes, I shall surely get word to you immediately.”

As we turned to leave, I could not help thinking of the manner of Lockwood and Norton toward each other.  The name Stuart Whitney ran through my head.  Stuart Whitney was a trustee of the University who had contributed heavily, among other things, to Norton’s various expeditions to South America.  Was it that Norton felt a peculiar loyalty to Whitney, or was he jealous that any one else should succeed in interesting his patron in things South American?

The actions of the two young men, Lockwood and de Moche, recurred to me.  “Well,” I remarked, as we walked along, “what do you think it is—­a romance or a simple crime-hunt?” “Both, I suspect,” replied Craig abstractedly.  “Only not simple.”

III

THE ARCHAEOLOGICAL DETECTIVE

“I think I’ll go into the University Library,” Craig remarked, as we left Norton before his building.  “I want to refresh my mind on some of those old Peruvian antiquities and traditions.  What the Senorita hinted at may prove to be very important.  I suppose you will have to turn in a story to the Star soon?”

“Yes,” I agreed, “I’ll have to turn in something, although I’d prefer to wait.”

“Try to get an assignment to follow the case to the end,” suggested Craig.  “I think you’ll find it worth while.  Anyhow, this will give you a chance for a breathing space, and, if I have this thing doped out right, you won’t get another for some time.  I’ll meet you over in the laboratory in a couple of hours.”

Craig hurried up the long flight of white-marble steps to the library and disappeared, while I jumped on the subway and ran downtown to the office.