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captive.
    “Talk to him in that gobble he calls a language, Doc! Tell him he’s in for the same thing that door got if he don’t tell us whether your father was murdered, and if he was, who did it. And we want to know why he tried to shoot us.”
    The prisoner only sat in stoical silence. He was scared—but determined to suffer any violence rather than talk.
    “Wait, Renny,” Doc suggested. “Let’s try something more subtle.”
    “For instance?” Renny inquired.
    “Hypnotism,” said Doc. “If this man is of a savage race, his mind is probably susceptible to hypnotic influence. It’s no secret that many savages hypnotize themselves to such an extent that they think they see their pagan gods come and talk to them.”
    Positioned directly before the stocky Mayan, Doc began to exert the power of his amazing golden eyes. They seemed to turn into shifting, gleaning piles of the flaked yellow metal, holding the prisoner’s gaze inexorably, exerting a compelling, authoritative influence.
    For a minute the squat Mayan was quiet, except for his bulging eyes. He swayed a little in his chair. Then, with a piercing yell in his native tongue, the prisoner lunged backward out of his chair.
    The Mayan’s plunge carried him toward Renny. But the big-fisted giant had been watching Doc so intently he must have been a little hypnotized himself. He was slow breaking the spell. Reaching for the Mayan, he missed.
    Straight to the window, the squat Mayan sped. A wild jump, and he shot head-first through it—to his death!

    AWED silence was in the room for a while.
    “He realized he was going to be made to talk,” Ham clipped, whipping his waspish frame over to the window to look callously down. “So he killed himself.”
    “Wonder what can be behind all this!” Long Tom puzzled, absently inspecting his unhealthy-looking features as reflected by the polished table top.
    “Let’s see if the message my father left written on the window won’t help,” Doc suggested.
    They followed Doc to the library in a group. “Important papers back of the red brick,” read the message in invisible ink which could only be detected by ultraviolet light. They were all curious to know where the papers were, anxious to see that they were intact. Above all, they wanted to know the nature of these “important papers.”
    Doc had the box which manufactured ultraviolet rays, under his arm. On into the laboratory, he led the cavalcade.
    Every one noticed instantly that the laboratory floor was of brick, with a rubber matting scattered here and there.
    Monk looked like he understood, then his jaw fell. “Huh!”
    The floor bricks were all red!
    Doc plugged the ultraviolet apparatus into a light socket. He switched off the laboratory lights. Deliberately, he played the black-light rays across the brick floor. The darkness was intense.
    And suddenly one brick was shining with an unholy red luminance. The brick was the lid of a secret little cavity in the floor, and the elder Savage had treated it with some substance that had the property of glowing red under the black-light beams.
    From the secret cavity, Doc lifted a packet of papers wrapped securely in an oilskin cloth that looked like a fragment of slicker. Ham clicked on the lights. They gathered around, eagerly waiting.
    Doc opened the papers. They were very official looking, replete with gaudy seals. And they were printed in Spanish.
    One at a time, as he finished glancing over them, Doc passed the papers to Ham. The astute lawyer studied them with great interest. At last Doc was completely through the papers. He looked at Ham.
    “These papers are a concession from the government of Hidalgo,” Ham declared. “They give to you several hundred square miles of land in Hidalgo, providing you pay the government of Hidalgo one hundred thousand dollars yearly and one fifth of everything you remove from this land. And the concession holds for a period of ninety-nine years.”
    Doc nodded. “Notice