"I am. May I sign up this late and sit in on some of your classes?"

"We'd be glad to have you. It's only twenty-five dollars to attend anything and everything you want. A real bargain, if I do say so myself."

While they'd been talking, Jane had gradually become aware of a faint repetitive noise in the background. In the silence following Lucky's last remark, they all became aware of it.

"What's that sound?" Jane asked.

"Probably a radio turned up too loud someplace," Shelley said.

But people on the other side of the restaurant, where the windows faced the front drive, were craning their necks and looking out at something.

Lucky glanced at his watch. "Ladies, I've enjoyed talking to you. You're very polite to let me run off at the mouth this way, but I've got to get going."

"It's been a pleasure," Shelley said. "Thanks again for bringing me my message. I'll probably see you at some of the classes."

As he departed, Shelley and Jane exchanged questioning looks and wordlessly agreed that they had to see what was going on in front. Shelley signed the breakfast tab, left a hefty tip, and they went across the room to an empty table to peer outside.

At first Jane assumed that what she saw was a display of local color that the resort sponsored. A group of people in colorful garb were doing what appeared to be an Indian dance. There were tom-toms, feathers, beads, and lots of glossy black braids flying. But a moment later, she noticed the placards that others were carrying:

Save our graves.

Let our ancestors rest in peace.

Don't desecrate sacred ground.

And the cryptic, No lift.

The diners were mumbling to one another, speculating on the meaning of all this. But no one had any answers. An attractive woman wearing a long skirt, high boots, and a heavy, fringed shawl had been speaking to one of the demonstrators; as she turned away from him, she caught a glimpse of Shelley at the window and raised a hand in greeting. Then she added a "Stay there" sign. At least that was what Jane assumed it meant.