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OTHING would tempt us to follow any more of Santos's suggestions, and we left him at Vista to take advantage of the company of several Bolivians who were returning home. For the last time Tib and I passed up the awful waters, only now we were not alone and unarmed; nor did we pause until we had entered Bolivia. At La Paz our friends said good-bye and we jogged on to Arica, the port they borrow from Chile. There we picked up a coastwise steamer and glided up to Callao. Of course we were not capering around with no set purpose.

"It was this: Tib decided he must have been fed on four-leaf clovers when an infant and had been inoculated with much good luck. Else why our diamonds and the two recent evasions of a tropical grave? He insisted that if I'd stick to him I would live forever. Only he was too wise to try diamonds again, or to carry his pitcher too often to any other Brazilian well. And now his heart was full of Peru