or, at least, what they took to be sheepskin. Don Ernesto, however, was inclined to believe it was the skin of the alpaca, which is a wool-bearing animal of South America. So crabbed was the hand, and so curious the spelling and formation of the letters, that the boys, even Jack with his fine knowledge of Spanish, could make little of it. Ferdinand’s eyes, however, glistened at this first sight of the manuscript, and he pored over it for hours.

The two older men announced it would be necessary for them ere departing to visit Valparaiso for several days, and the boys were left to their own devices. However, the time was not to hang heavily on the hands of the boys, as barely had they been left alone than Ferdinand received an invitation from Adolfo Rodriguez, a friend living at Almahue, to visit him and witness a reception to a distinguished delegation of North Americans who were touring the South American republics.

This delegation was aboard the special train leaving Santiago which the four youths boarded in the morning. Arriving at Almahue in the afternoon, the delegation was received at the Rodriguez country home, a beautiful mansion standing in the midst of a large park. Young Rodriguez, a slender, dark-eyed lad of Ferdinand’s age, flew to greet them.

“His mother is an Englishwoman,” Ferdinand told them, in an aside. “And he has been to an English school. I have not seen him for some years.”

Greetings between the two friends were warm, and then the American lads were introduced.

“How jolly,” said young Rodriguez, “I thought this reception thing would be a bore. But with you fellows here, it will be a lark, after all. Come to my rooms, and you can prepare for dinner.”

On entering the great salon, Jack, Bob and Frank were surprised beyond measure. They found themselves in a profusion of palms, cypresses and willows, with chrysanthemums in prodigal profusion, the whole so tastefully arranged as to give the impression of a scene from fairyland. Music was played by hidden musicians during the dinner, and after the speeches there was to be a musicale. Young Rodriguez, however, managed to withdraw with his companions before the arrival of the speech-making.

“After-dinner speeches are a beastly bore, always,” he said emphatically. “I considered you fellows would be as glad to escape as I. Now these are your rooms, and you will find whatever you require. You have had a long day, and as there will be much to do and see tomorrow, I imagine you will want to get some sleep.”

With that he left them, taking with him Ferdinand. The boys realized young Rodriguez was eager to talk over old times with his chum, and that they would be up half the night chattering. Nevertheless, that was not hard to forgive, and as they really were tired by the unaccustomed scenes and bustle, they turned in after some comments on the dinner, and soon were sleeping soundly.

The next day, the boys were up and about early, for young Rodriguez wanted them to breakfast with him before the visitors reached the table. They were surprised to learn the estate covered 15,000 hectares, and employed more than 400 tenants and laborers.

With the visitors, the boys visited the schools of the estate, three in number, at one of which the boys and girls of the tenants were in attendance, and at the others the children of the laborers. Finding they could ride, young Rodriguez obtained them mounts from the stable, although the visiting delegation was taken about in carriages. They visited the beautiful church of the estate, inspected the model homes and recreation grounds for the overseers and laborers, and spent some time at the stables. Senor Rodriguez was a lover of horses, and with pride his son pointed out to the boys a number of race horses of famous pedigree.

“My mother wanted me educated in England,” he explained, “my father in South America. Finally, they struck a compromise. I was to be sent to an English school, but to a South American university. And so, Ferdinand, next year will find me with you at Lima.”

The other nodded with satisfaction. They had discussed this the night before.

“You three fellows are chums,” said Ferdinand, “and you can realize my delight.”

“At school in England,” said young Rodriguez, looking at a famous racer which he had brought the boys to see, “they used to be surprised when I spoke of home. They imagined that everything in South America was savage beyond words.”

“To tell you the truth,” said Bob, frankly, “I had false ideas about South America, too. These things you have been showing me, and others Ferdinand showed us in Santiago, make my head swim. I’m beginning to wonder where we can get adventure in a country like this.”

Ferdinand, who had told his chum of the proposed expedition, laughed heartily. So did Rodriguez.

“My dear fellow,” said the latter, “wait. You will encounter the mightiest mountains in the Western Hemisphere, mountains to dwarf your Rockies. You will disappear from all human habitation. You will cross trackless deserts; perhaps, you will find rivers never explored by white man. You may run foul of unconquered Indians. Perhaps, you may discover a new race. Anything is possible in this fascinating and little known land. All this that you see, all Santiago and Lima and our other cities—what, after all, is it? Nothing but the fringe of a vast continent. But, come, let us return, for this afternoon there will be something worth seeing.”

The prediction was borne out for, after luncheon, the band began to play and young folks from the estate appeared to dance the cueca. This is a dance peculiar to Chile, in which the dancers perform individually. It is reminiscent of other South American dances—the bolero, the habanera, the bambuco, the jota, the torbellino, and the fandango. It is danced with more grace and animation, and with deeper intensity than the tango, that dance peculiar to the Argentine.

“Look at that little Spanish senorita, Jack,” whispered Bob, mischievously, to his chum. “She certainly reminds me of your flame, Senorita Rafaela. Hey?”

Jack grinned at his comrade’s teasing. In reality, however, he never heard the name of Senorita Rafaela mentioned that he did not feel sentimental. And this dancing girl did have a coquettish lift of the fan, a twist of the head, a raising of the eyebrow, that reminded him of her. Senorita Rafaela, however, was far away, on the Mexican estate of her father, from whom Jack and Bob two years before had rescued Mr. Hampton when the latter was a political prisoner. It was no use to think of her now.

After the dance at the home, four hundred tenants, mounted on splendid horses, many with handsome Spanish saddles and spurs of silver, escorted the party to a nearby spot where two platforms had been erected for dancing. Here the men, young and old, participated in foot and horse races. Then the young folks went to dancing, while many barbecue fires for the cooking of meat were lighted, wine was distributed, and the tenants made festa. It was a truly patriarchal scene, and one never to be forgotten.

“This is a true example of life on the great Chilian estates,” Ferdinand told the boys, on their way back to Santiago.

CHAPTER IV—HO FOR THE ENCHANTED CITY!

“But, father, we thought you intended first to explore this town of Potosi for the buried treasure left there by the fugitive Incas before they fled to the South,” said Jack.

“I know, Jack,” Mr. Hampton explained, “but Don Ernesto and I have talked the matter over from every angle, and have decided against going to Potosi at this season. The summer months are January and February. And even in summer, it is bleak in that region. The hottest day ever recorded in Potosi went to only about 59 in the shade. The elevation is