Morrison glanced at him sharply, and said nothing for a moment.
“Yes, I know. I’ve seen it coming,” he returned somberly. “You get the reward, but I pay it, Lang. I pay it, and I can’t afford it. I suppose I can’t help myself.
“Oh, well, it’s the fate of parents,” he went on resignedly. “And I’ve still got something, after all—some stuff that’ll make the scientific world take notice. Wait till I write my monograph on the quipus!”
It seemed a cold and barren sort of success, Lang thought, sitting in touch of Eva’s shoulder. His own triumph seemed charged with fire. He was coming back with treasure and love and future brilliance, and he felt profoundly sorry for his future father-in-law. And, miles ahead, Tronador Light swept every minute wider circles of light on the black horizon.
THE END