“What’s the difficulty? I mean why can’t you get hold of it.”
Ansell snorted. “Quinti won’t part. He’s this Indian fells I’m telling you about. For fifteen years I’ve been after him, but the old devil just grins at me.”
“Where do I come in on this?” Myra asked cautiously.
“I saw Quinti a couple of weeks ago,” Ansell said. “He tried to fox me as usual, but I put a lot of pressure on him and finally got him in a corner. He told me that soon he was going to die. But before he die, a Sun Virgin would come to him and take from him all his secrets. She would have great powers of magic, her hair would be like beaten gold and her skin like the frozen heights of lxtacchiuatl. It was just his way of putting me off, but now I’ve seen Miss Shumway, I guess we could frighten him into talking.”
Myra sat up. “You don’t want me to impersonate a Sun Virgin, do you?” she demanded.
“Why not?” Ansell asked, his eyes shining. “With your tricks, your looks and a little bluff, you could do it on your head.”
I leaned forward suddenly. “Where’s this village you’re talking about, Doc?” I asked.
“It’s ten miles from Pepoztlan.”
That gave me an idea, but I wanted time to think about it. “Listen, Doc,” I said. “Let Miss Shumway and me talk it over, will you? I think you’ve got an idea that’d make a great news story. It’d be fine publicity for you if you get the stuff, but I want to sort out the angles.”
Ansell got to his feet. “I’ll give you half an hour,” he said. “I take it that you won’t run out on me?”