UNIDENTIFIED

“Morning, Buddy. What do you suppose that guy meant last night when he said, ‘maybe there wasn’t and maybe there was’ something in that wallet? It got my ailerons flapping,” Bob said as he came into Jim’s room. His Flying Buddy was already half dressed, although no one in the De Castro household was astir at that hour.

“That got my think tank clanking, too, but I reckon the old bean’s crusted, for I can’t make it out. I reached a lot of conclusions, you can take your choice. Perhaps he was just shooting off his mouth; he may think the wallet Carlos picked up is something different from what it is, and then again, it’s possible that there is something about the leather case which contains the secret. We couldn’t find anything more when we looked at it last night before it was locked in the safe after they tried to steal it,” Austin answered.

“You haven’t anything on me as a deductor. Now, all we have to do is eliminate all but one, and there we are with the answer,” Bob grinned.

“Right-O. Any ideas on which to eliminate?”

“My dear step-brother, companion of my youth, I can argue with fervor for each and every one of them, or, with equal conviction against them.”

“We’re equally dumb. Let’s form a trust. Sure you didn’t forget to tell Senor de Castro that we were going up for a bracer this morning? We don’t want him to think that some doo-doo kidnaped us.”

“I told him. Said that we’d be here in time for breakfast, so let’s get a move on. Ah, ‘Lark,’ I hear you calling me!”

A bit later the Flying Buddies were again in the hangar beside the graceful little plane. This time they took the precaution of having a good look about the place to make sure that no one was hanging around ready to throw a monkey wrench at their heads, or concealed in the “Lark” itself. On the trip from the United States they had found a stowaway while flying above the Caribbean Sea and the vicious brute had fought savagely to bring them down. A few days after their arrival, enemies of Mr. Austin had secreted a huge poisonous snake in the communication tube between the two cock-pits. It had crawled leisurely out over the nearly paralyzed Bob who was taking pictures of the coast from the back. With the settlement of the power-plant difficulties and the apprehension of the ring-leaders, the boys had felt safe from further attempts, but it was now evident that their association with Carlos de Castro had started a new string of enemies on their trail. Although the men had been captured the night before, there were probably others on the outside who would seek revenge because of the failure of the attack, or make further efforts to get possession of the mysterious wallet.

“All’s well that ends well,” Bob called when his share of the inspection was finished.

“Here too. Hop in,” Jim urged. Presently they were both ready and Austin took the controls, the engine started a cheering roar, the propeller whirled, and the plane rolled lightly along the runway, curved a bit, her nose lifted and she began to climb eagerly into the air. The Flying Buddies grinned at each other and their eyes glistened happily.

“This is the life,” Bob bellowed, and Jim nodded. It was a clear, beautiful morning. The sky in the east was tinted with long pinkish grey streaks which announced the coming of the sun from beneath the horizon. They had made no plan as to where they would go, but just started with the unconquerable desire to fly, and as the plane scrambled into the heavens they filled their lungs with deep breaths of pure joy. Up and up they raced until the altitude meter read three thousand feet, then the pilot leveled off, made a wide circle, and flipped her into a double loop just to relieve their feelings. He pulled her out with nicety, then leveled off and shot forward.

“Let’s go over Amy-Ran,” Bob proposed.

“Right-O.”

The course was quickly calculated and the plane’s nose pointed in the direction of the ancient fastness which was still the property of the descendants of the famous Yncas, whose people had once inhabited the vast empire which was the world’s most civilized and prosperous government. Jim increased the speed and the plane roared through the sky above the magnificent Andes Mountains with their numberless spurs and beautiful valleys, which looked as if only the greatest of nature’s artists had been entrusted to shape their perfect outline. Here and there were high plains whose smooth surfaces looked as if they were set with glistening opals, while others were dark-wooded with forests which were broken only by lovely lakes of crystal-clear water that reflected the sky above them like wonderful mirrors. The sun, rising with a splendid burst of brilliance, sent its rays flashing until every inch they touched leaped to life and color.

The Flying Buddies took in all of the marvelous scenes rolling beneath them, and were intensely sorry for grounded chaps who had never experienced the thrill of viewing such a panorama to the accompaniment of wind singing through the wires of an airplane carrying them swiftly through space between the earth and sky. Finally, in the distance, they made out the S-shaped plateau of Amy-Ran, whose edge was rimmed like a crown with the giant stone that had once formed a section of its inaccessible fortress.

In a few minutes the “Lark” was circling like a bird above one end and as Jim calculated his landing he recalled the day Carlos de Castro had brought them to the spot, the day that young Arthur Gordon had so mysteriously appeared and assaulted them. There had been no means of escape from the precipitous rock or the murderous attack of the Texas outlaw and Austin had been sure that it was only a matter of minutes before their three lifeless bodies would be pounced upon by hungry vultures whose nests were secreted on nearby crags. When his Buddies lay helpless, Jim was standing before a black-nosed revolver but before its trigger could be pressed Yncicea Haurea and his uncle Corso stepped into the ruin and the tide of battle was swiftly and effectively turned. The motor was silenced and the “Lark” was gliding quietly down.

“I’m taking her where she can be a bit out of sight.”

“Great brain work. Never know who may take the air with a view to doing scout work. Peaceful spot, this old Peru, when there is no one about,” said Bob. He too had been thinking of the wild experiences they had been through, but his thoughts had been on the more recent happenings, and as they made the descent his eyes lingered with amusement at the nearby peak which a few nights before had given a perfect imitation of a seething volcano with tons of burning lava rushing threateningly on Gordon and his gang. If it had been the real thing, the Flying Buddies and the two De Castros would have been buried under many feet of molten rock and cinders. But as a piece of clever stage business it had struck terror into the hearts of the man with the green mask and his companions. In their mad rush to get above the danger zone several of them had been killed.

“Give a calf enough rope and he’ll hang himself,” Caldwell remarked as the plane’s wheels touched the chosen landing spot and rolled a few feet. “Queer how many of those guys have eliminated themselves in one way or another.”

“Yes. I should think they’d begin to tumble to themselves that they are amateurs and quit trying to get the better of the men they are so intent on robbing,” Jim answered. The plane rolled beneath the shelter of the fortress wall and when she was in a position where she could not be seen by curious flyers, he brought her to a stop. “I have a hunch that some bright lad in that gang may come flying about to have a look at the remains of the volcano.”

“Well, won’t he get the jolt of his gay careless youth when he can’t find a crater as big as a hole in a tooth?” chuckled Bob. “Any hunches that we’ll find a Lab. man around?”

“Thought we might,” Jim admitted.

“And presto, I appear!” It was Ynilea, who smiled broadly. “I too am becoming subject to attacks of hunch and when we found that you were not going to go home this morning under central power I observed your hilarious flight and was delighted when you determined to pay Amy-Ran another visit.”

“Gee, did you see the party they tried to pull last night?” Bob demanded quickly.

“Not the ‘party’ but the records this morning.”

“A man called Ollie had a plane smash-up somewhere in the Andes and thinks he discovered a rich deposit of platinum,” Jim explained.

“Where?” Ynilea was interested.

“I don’t know,” the boy answered, then went on and told of the conversation they had overheard in the Santa Maria and the later attack of the chap who wanted the wallet.

“We don’t know yet if it is the same man but it looks as if it might be,” Bob put in. “I say—” He stopped abruptly, for their quick ears had caught the unmistakable hum of an airplane motor, “that one of your crates?”

“No.” Ynilea listened intently. “No.”

They sat very still as the sound grew in volume, then the Lab. man stepped cautiously toward the place where the boys had run the “Lark” under cover. Quickly the Flying Buddies jumped out of straps and parachutes and hurried after him. In a moment they were making their way along the outer edge of the great wall, much as Carlos had said he did when he came there as a small boy and thought he saw an opening into a court. They proceeded carefully, keeping out of sight of the approaching airman, until suddenly Ynilea held up his hand. Just ahead of them they saw the Indian woman whose age no one could ever guess, coming very slowly from the opposite direction. She was wearing a robe which hung in folds from her shoulders, a loose hood covered her head, and the material looked so exactly like the stones beside which she walked that if she had not moved she could not have been distinguished from one of them. She seemed to be aware of their presence, for in a moment she stopped, made a slight movement of her head, and Ynilea instantly went to her, the boys close at his heels.

“Come,” she said softly.

Her hand, still concealed by the folds of her sleeve, moved over the nearest stone, and after an instant, during which the Flying Buddies almost held their breaths, the great mass moved. It slipped back about three inches, then slid along like a folding door, leaving an opening wide enough for them all to enter. The boys drew quick breaths of astonishment as they found themselves in a good-sized room which was cut out of the solid rock of the mountain. The heavy panel returned to its place, and a moment later they stood close together on another rock which dropped with perfect smoothness about ten feet, then admitted them into another small room. This seemed to be in the section near the edge of the cliff. Ynilea moved back a part in one corner, and through a clever screen of foliage they could get a good view of the sky.

“My gosh, Carlos was right, he did see an opening in the wall,” Bob said softly, and Ynilea turned a questioning glance toward him.

“He and some boys were here, I mean on top, years ago, and the little fellow declared he saw an opening in the wall. He was separated from his fellows, but when he found them and wanted to show it to them, he couldn’t locate it again and they thought he was dreaming, or his imagination working over-time,” Jim explained.

“His story was not credited?” Ynilea was adjusting a sort of periscope.

“No. He was such a little fellow they were sure he was mistaken.”

“Oh, there she is,” the tall Indian announced. He turned a wheel in the instrument and the boys could easily see the plane they had heard circling in a wide loop over their heads. As they watched, the man adjusted the glass until it was like a powerful telescope and Jim whistled as the flying machine was brought close enough for them to see the dark face of the pilot who was leaning over the side of his plane. He seemed to be looking for something and scowled when he did not find it.

“Bet the first gold tooth I get against a plugged dime that your hunch was right, Buddy. He is looking for the crater and the evidence of the near-disaster.”

“He’s coming lower.” The plane, which had been almost at the ceiling, began to spiral, and the man in the cock-pit pressed a pair of field glasses to his eyes.

“He might pick us out—”

“The glass is not directed this way. As you say, he is looking for that crater,” Ynilea answered.

“Be a nice little treat if you could really shoot off a lid and chase him with a blast of smoke and fire,” Jim chuckled.

“It would indeed,” Ynilea agreed with a smile.

“Give him something to write home about.”

“Looks as if he is planning to land,” Jim explained, and the plane was descending closer. Soon it was so near that the pilot did not require the glasses, and again he stared with a puzzled scowl toward the cliff which was supposed to have erupted. Then his machine began to rock crazily and bump as if it were riding deep, choppy waves, and for the next few minutes he had to give his undivided attention to maintaining his equilibrium. As he attended strictly to his job they could no longer see him, but they could see that he had struck something which threatened to end his flight in a wreck. He banked, curved, climbed, and dived in a desperate effort to force himself out of the pocket, or whatever it was that he had struck, but it wasn’t until he was almost a speck in the sky again that he really recovered his balance. A moment later, the glass was pressed to his eyes and he stared through space as if determined to solve the mystery. Twice he descended quickly, but each time the plane misbehaved, so at last he gave it up, circled once more, then leveled off and shot away in the direction from which he had come.

“Pleasant entertainment while it lasted,” laughed Bob. “Thought for a while we’d have him on our piazza.”

“Sorry he didn’t stick long enough to give you a really good time,” laughed Ynilea. “One reason I wanted to see you boys today is to tell you that we have a small television we’ll attach to the ‘Lark’s’ radio. We were going to wait until you landed back in Texas to have it installed, but since you are staying over, we’ll fix it in a set and exchange it for you as soon as it’s ready. You can pay a visit to the Lab. to learn how it works.”

“Oh, that will be great. I say, you’ll soon have that plane so we won’t need to come to the ground at all,” announced Bob.

“Should you like that?”

“And how! But, Buddy we’d better get home or the De Castros will think we’re lost—or never coming down,” Jim warned.

“Too true,” agreed Bob.

Presently the “Lark” was again in the air, but no “pockets or bumps” interfered with her flight when she leveled off, her nose pointed toward the De Castro home, and she rushed swiftly to the music of singing engine and whistling wind. The boys were perfectly satisfied with their morning adventure, but when they lighted on the runway, they saw Carlos waiting for them on the piazza.

“My father was getting distressed,” he told them soberly.

“Sorry we over-stayed,” Jim apologized.

“You are not so very much behind time, but there is some surprising news. Will you join us as you are? It’s quite all right if you care to do so.”

“We’ll get there more quickly,” Bob answered, so they hurried to the cool breakfast room off the portico, where they found Senor de Castro pacing the floor.

“I beg your pardon, sir—” Jim began.

“That’s all right, my boy, breakfast is a movable feast. Did my son tell you the news?”

“No sir.”

“Well, the man you call Ollie was found late last night. He had been beaten and his skull crushed to a pulp. He is dead.”

“As Hamlet’s cat,” Carlos added, glancing at Bob. “Padre is a bit anxious about you—and me too—and he wants us to be mighty careful.”

“We will, senor,” Jim assured him.

“It seems that the police have traced the man’s movements, questioned persons who saw him, including the attendants at the fiesta. No one seems to know who was with him when he had refreshments. As I remember that was when you boys overheard his conversation about the platinum.”

“That’s right,” answered Jim.

“In such a case suspicious characters are rounded up and held until their innocence is established. They have several of these men and ask you to come to the detention quarters and see if you can identify any of them.”

“Have you any idea when they picked up those men?” Jim inquired.

“Very early this morning.”

“Then they have the wrong fellows.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I saw the man in an airplane this morning. He was flying very much higher than we were, and looking over the side. I saw him quite plainly, sir.”

“Was that the lad?” demanded Bob.

“I’m sure of it,” Jim nodded.

“Could you describe the plane?” Carlos wanted to know.

“I could do that,” Jim answered, then he frowned thoughtfully. “If he’s a member of the gang we’ve been having all the fireworks with he or some of his gang may try to waylay us on the way home. Could the information be given to the police confidentially?”

“That shall be attended to, my boy. You early birds do manage to—”

“Gobble the worms,” Bob suggested.