immediately dismounted. Dick and Maria-Teresa exchanged a smile. They were at last to know the name of the facetious sender of the Golden Sun bracelet.
They pulled up their mules, and waited with an indifferent air that was perhaps a little affected. Ten minutes later the Marquis came out.
"I have the name and address," he said in a puzzled voice.
"And what is the name?" questioned Maria-Teresa.
"Atahualpa," replied her father, mounting.
"So the jest continues."—Maria-Teresa's voice had changed a little.
"Apparently so. The clerk who received the parcel says it was brought in by an Indian, who said his name really was Atahualpa. That, after all, is possible."
"Well, as you have the address, we might pay him a little call," suggested Dick.
"Exactly what I was going to say." And Don Christobal turned his mule. Uncle Francis brought up the rear, vigorously taking notes, with his book resting on the pommel of the saddle.
They crossed a rivulet racing towards an affluent of the upper Maranon, passed San Francisco, the first Christian church built in Peru,
