TREASURE

“That’s a good job done,” Gordon declared viciously.

“How do you get that way?” Cardow snapped furiously. Then he turned to the messenger. “You were told that the boy was to be brought in, weren’t you?”

“Yes we were, Cardow, but we couldn’t make it, I tell you.”

“What the blazes happened?”

“We picked him up in the middle of the afternoon as he was headin’ for the De Castro’s. He didn’t pay much attention to us, waggled his wings a couple o’ times, and played around like he was feelin’ good. That plane of his is the fastest thing in the air, I’m tellin’ you, and we had a hard time to catch up with him; only did it when he slackened in the fog; then we got on all sides of him and when he came out we were ready. Gave him the lead as fast as we could pour it out. The machine blazed up like a paper lantern and turned into a tail spin.”

“How high were you when you made the attack?”

“High enough. Nearly thirty thousand feet.”

“Did he use his chute?”

“No, he didn’t. We kept close coming down with him and we could see him foolin’ round, like he was trying to get control again and put the fire out. He acted like he didn’t notice how fast he was shootin’ till he almost hit.”

“Yes—well?”

“We were right with him to pick him up if he was alive, but he landed on a farmer’s hay stack; it must have been dry as powder, for the whole thing went up in smoke in less than five minutes. I’m telling you the truth. We couldn’t get him out and he didn’t use his chute.” The fellow’s jaw protruded, and then two other men came toward the light.

“He’s givin’ you the goods straight, Cardow. We carried out orders exactly like we were told, and if the kid had jumped, we’d have got him safe, but he didn’t and that’s that.”

During this recital Jim frowned in puzzled wonder, and even though the first man had said “Caldwell,” the boy did not immediately grasp the fact that it was Bob, his Flying Buddy they were discussing, then, it went over him as if someone had given him a powerful blow that shook his whole body. Queer flashes of light shot through his brain and before his eyes. His throat seemed to swell until he felt as if he were being strangled, while a cold clammy perspiration oozed from every pore in his body, as he realized what they were saying. Bob was dead! Burned in a blazing plane that landed on a haystack! His body swayed, and then he was conscious that Arto’s arm was supporting him.

“Get hold of yourself,” the man whispered huskily. “You know the boy they got?”

“He’s my brother—my step brother—my Buddy—”

“Easy—listen—perhaps it is a trick they have made up to scare you into talking of what you do not want to tell,” Arto suggested.

“Perhaps it is—but I guess not—Oh!”

“Brace yourself, old man. Close we will watch and perhaps the morning will find us in changed positions. Be ready! I have found that for my wrist this hand-cuff is large. With it off, that will help. Keep close to my brother, so I can speak to him. When the time comes, these pigs shall pay—”

While this discourse was taking place, Cardow and Gordon were questioning the air-fighters, and at last they were convinced that no trick had been played; that young Caldwell had not escaped from them. Gordon glanced maliciously toward Jim as if anxious to hear the same news of the second Flying Buddy. Cardow turned about and his eyes rested a moment on Austin, but before he could continue his interrogating, the man who had promised to report progress, came running to them.

“It’s ready to shoot.” At that the whole gang sprang forward, including the two guards, but Gordon stopped short.

“Don’t let them out of your sight,” he ordered brusquely to the Admiral and the General paused and returned to their charges, apparently none too pleased at the command.

The group waited tensely, Jim fiercely endeavoring to get his mind off the ghastly details of his Buddy’s death as well as to keep from thinking how the terrible news would affect the boy’s mother, and his own Dad. He could not help recalling the numberless times they had faced difficulties together and the seemingly limitless supply of side-splitting ejaculations that sprang to the younger boy’s lips and never failed to bring a laugh which relieved the tension of deep feeling. Just then a series of noises were heard, a little like the regular popping of a rifle, and Jim guessed that it must be the explosions of the dynamite. He was surprised that the sounds were not greater and that he felt not the slightest quiver of the earth. This made him believe that they must be some distance from the Amy-Ran fastness.

“Come along. I ain’t waitin’ here,” the Admiral urged, and the General acquiesced without hesitation.

“We can bring ’em with us and see what’s doing. They can’t get away no matter where we are,” he argued. “March, you, en fast.”

They started at once and this time had a fairly good light so they could easily see where they were going. Presently they were hurrying through the hallway, but they turned off before they were half way to the entrance near the plane. Five minutes they scrambled and then the route widened out and descended steeply by way of a gully that was paved with small stones which had probably been washed there during flood seasons and heavy rains. This brought them onto a sort of ledge where they stood suddenly in a good light that reflected a lower ledge about five rods away. Jim could see men hurriedly crowding on this other bit of table and then he was sure that it was the spot where he and the De Castros had been held prisoner.

“Come on, they’ve got something. I’m going over.”

“March, and go fast.”

The General and his fellow guard were determined to see what was taking place and not to be left out of anything, but their eagerness did not make them careless with their captives. They ran as fast as the damp moss permitted along a barely perceptible trail which wound several rods above the ledge on the other side of the canyon, and finally they made the crossing by leaping from great stones about which the water raced swiftly. Soon they too were on the ledge and then Austin saw, to his utter astonishment, that an enormous rock had been jarred out of its base, and behind its thick sagging wall, was some sort of cave, into which the men had leaped.

“Glory be, it’s the treasure,” the Admiral gasped in awe as he stared about him.

“Look at them jewels—me pal, we’re richer than Henry Ford en Rockeyfelley en the hull bunch.”

The place they were in made Jim catch his breath with dismay for there was no mistaking it—no denying the fact that it was a treasure storage containing wealth untold. He judged that it was one of the “hiding houses” the Ynca Indians had secured for themselves to get away from their persecutors, to conceal their vast treasure, and worship the Sun as their ancestors had done for hundreds of years. In the middle of the furthest wall was a great sun of hammered gold and about its rim a wide band of precious stones so brilliant that they sparkled and flashed in the glare of the lights that Cardow and his men carried. In front of the sun was a high platform, and beneath that were wide seats made of stone. There were tall jars of pottery made in beautiful designs, inlaid with gold and emeralds.

Brick shinned up one of the large ones, stared into its wide mouth, then dipped in his hands. He brought them up dripping with jeweled ornaments of exquisite workmanship and brilliancy, then began to fill his pockets, but in his eagerness he failed to hang on, and came sliding swiftly to the stone floor, which was laid in colored squares with patterns that looked like historical pictures of long ago conquests. For a few minutes the men acted as if they thought they were asleep, but with Brick’s find, they all fell upon the nearest object with guns and knives and began to hack off the treasure. Then suddenly a noise from outside startled them, and for an instant they paused, but when they soon saw that it was a deluge of rain coming down amid the crash of thunder they continued in their mad rush to get the treasure.

“Well, I got it open for you,” one of men declared to Cardow.

“Sure you did. It’s great work and good that this didn’t get covered over. We’d have had some time digging it out. I’ll tell the boss when he comes.”

“I never tried to blast such rock, but by George, I tumbled the very best one down,” the chap added with satisfaction.

“You’ll get yours all right. We’ve been looking for years for this place and now we have it. We’re set for life—all of us, and some to spare,” Cardow answered. While he talked with him the men were behaving like a lot of fellows suddenly gone mad. Some of them sang, others rolled on the floor, more danced gleefully about marvelous furnishings, and many lolled on rich tapestry-covered couches. The place was beginning to look as if a cyclone had struck it, when Cardow turned furiously. “You fellows quit this, now, quick.” He drew out his guns and flashed them from one man to another.

“Aw, gwan,” one defied him. “We got what we come for.”

“Sure. Take your share and close your trap. We been listenin’ to you fer weeks, and we ain’t taking no more sass.” Several guns, whose butts were being used for hammers, were turned on the lieutenant, but he did not flinch.

“Listen, if you don’t obey orders, how would you like to tackle the forests with your pockets full of gold and not a drop of water? You can’t get out of this place without a plane.”

“Aw, well, what do you want?”

“Just straighten this place up so the Boss can see it as it is, or was, see? He’ll be madder than blazes if it’s wrecked before he gets here,” Cardow told them.

“All right. How long will it take him to come?” one demanded.

“Not more than half an hour, probably not that long. I’ll send for him.”

“That suits me.”

“I’ll go for him,” Gordon volunteered. He was standing beside the huge stone that had been blown out of its place, and as he spoke, Jim noticed that the Texan seemed intensely interested in what he saw.

“Hurry along. Tell him what a find it is and that the men want to get to work cleaning it up as quickly as possible.”

“I’ll tell him.”

“And tell him what a splendid piece of blasting it is. You might take some of these jewels.” Cardow picked up a brimming handful which Gordon dropped into his pocket.

“I’ll tell him all that, and some other things,” Gordon answered.

“What do you mean, some other things?” Cardow demanded.

“I’ll tellin’ him this thing looks fishy to me—”

“Fishy, you’re crazy—”

“Maybe I am crazy, but just the same, it’s too easy.” Without another word he walked out into the storm, and a few minutes later they heard the unmistakable roar of the engine as the machine raced through the sky. Joe strolled to the entrance and glanced out.

“Rotten night—”

“Tain’t night no more, Buddy, it morning—”

“Well, it’s blacker en pitch,” Joe persisted. He walked about glancing from one treasure pile to another and occasionally running his hand over one of the giant ornaments.

“Got something on yer mind?” one of the men asked him.

“Yes. I’m wonderin’ what in blazes Gordon’s meanin’.”

“Aw, he’s just talkin’ too much, like he always does,” Brick volunteered.

“Sure, he’s always doing that.”

“I’m wonderin’ if he’ll queer the works—”

“Yer nuts. What kin he do? Look what we got—”

“I know, but I’m doin’ some thinkin’ by myself. Maybe he ain’t bringing the Boss back at all, and we’ll sit here waitin—”

“And not get nothin’?” snapped Joe.

“Might be sumpin like that—”

“Listen, Joe—if Gordon and the Boss are not here in half an hour, we’ll divide this stuff up among ourselves and leave him what we can’t carry away. I know he’ll come and there’s no funny business about it. You agree to that—”

“A lot kin happen in half an hour,” Joe answered.

“Say, whose turning off the lights?” one of the men further back in the temple room demanded sharply.

“Nobody’s turning em off.”

“Reckon my battery’s on the fritz.” One chap examined his flash, then exclaimed in disgust, “Yes, the bloomin’ blighter has gone dead on me.”

For several minutes no one spoke and the four captives, who had been shoved into a corner, out of which they could not get without being seen, were listening and watching mutely. The Gonzalas, who probably knew nothing about the ancient history of Peru and its long line of magnificent rulers who had been wiped out of existence centuries ago, stared about them as if they thought they had been brought to some magic cave which was more wonderful than they had ever dreamed any spot in the world could be. Austin’s thoughts were divided between sorrow over the destruction of his Flying Buddy, and regret that after all the generations of careful guarding of the secret, it should at last be discovered and so ruthlessly looted. He wondered how it happened that Ynilea or some of the Laboratory men had been unable to prevent the loss, and then he began to wonder anxiously if anything had happened to the great laboratory and its army of scientists.

“Jimminy Christmas, my light’s going on the blink,” Carp snarled.

“Ain’t it near half an hour?” Joe demanded.

“It’s only ten minutes,” Cardow answered. His watch was lying on the smooth back of one of the seats, and most of the men were gathered close enough so they could see the minutes ticked off. A few of them sat patiently, while others strolled about, surreptitiously slipping small jeweled ornaments into their pockets. Five minutes more passed, and then one of the men started toward the opening, and in a moment he whirled sharply.

“Where’s that door?” he yelled.

“The door?”

“Yeh, the way we got in,” he snarled. As one man they rushed to his side and their jaws dropped.

“I knew it was some trick.” Joe sprang at Cardow with a savage snarl and would have caught him by the throat if a gun had not been poked into his face.

“That will do!” He made his way toward the entrance. “What’s the matter with the door?”

“It’s closed,” one shrieked with terror. “Closed tighter’n a tomb.”

“Hey, listen men, you needn’t be so frightened. Don’t jam the thing and just as soon as Gordon gets back they’ll open it easily from the outside; but be careful you don’t fix it so they can’t,” Cardow urged, and a few of the men got somewhat over the panic.

“Ain’t it most half an hour?” one asked anxiously.

“Twenty minutes. Ten minutes more and we’ll be out. Now, don’t lose your heads and queer the whole works.” He spoke so coolly that some of his courage and common sense was caught by the others, and they grinned sheepishly at each other as they drew away from the door.

“I remember reading about them sailors canned up in that submarine—”

“Shut up—”

“Maybe Gordon closed that thing himself,” another suggested.

“Say, will you crape-hangers keep still!” Cardow snapped, but his voice was neither as cool nor as steady as it had been. After that the place was so still that the ticking of the watch could be heard clearly, with an occasional sharp intake of breath as a man struggled to maintain control of himself.

“Put the wife back,” Arto whispered to his brother. “They will not keep so calm.” Quietly Pedro moved in front of the woman and Arto stepped close so that their bodies formed a barrier for her. For a moment Jim did not understand what they were doing, but when he realized that the Gonzalas expected some sort of mad scramble, he took a place as near as he could get. Then he was surprised to notice that the hand-cuff dangled from his wrist and that his cuff-mate had slipped out. Quickly the boy drew the empty ring up his sleeve and put out his hands as if they were still secured.

It seemed as if hours passed, and twice flash-lights dimmed, leaving the temple room in deeper darkness. One by one the men bent over the watch, checking off the minutes, and finally a group of them went to the great stone door that had made them prisoners. With ears pressed against the enormous block they listened for a sound from the world outside, but drew away when the lack of noise set their nerves on edge. Then one tapped sharply with the butt of his gun, waited an instant, but got no response. They tried this again but without success.

“It’s half an hour,” someone announced hoarsely.

“They’re not coming—they’re not, blast them!” Joe shrieked. He pounded his fists futilely against the immovable stone, and with that bedlam broke loose as the men screamed and hammered everything they could get their hands on against the unperturbed rock. In the melee the last light flickered, leaving them in a writhing, twisting mass of panic-stricken humans. Once or twice Cardow’s voice rose above the din as he endeavored to restore quiet, but it was promptly drowned by the screams of the gang.

“Get further away,” Arto urged. The captives moved cautiously along the wall until at last they were on the opposite side from where the entrance had been. From somewhere a faint light shone before the Sun-God, and Jim decided that it came from the clusters of brilliants set in the wide band. The men continued to fight and scream, but their voices were growing hoarser. Some were crying like infants, and this noise, Jim thought, was the most awful.

“The air,” Pedro said softly.

“I’ll feel for a crack,” Arto suggested. “Hang on to me, Senor Jim.” He dropped to his stomach, and Austin caught his trouser leg, then when Gonzalas moved further, the boy too lay flat, while Pedro clung to him, and Mrs. Gonzalas knelt beside her husband. She was praying quietly.

Across the temple the struggle was growing less furious, as if the men were becoming exhausted from their efforts or over-come by the closeness of their prison. For several minutes Arto wriggled close to the wall, his hands running lightly and swiftly over the space until at last he paused, they heard him take a deep breath, then he raised himself.

“Send her,” he whispered. Pedro moved his wife forward and Arto made her lie on the floor, her face pressed against a tiny opening through which came a very thin streak of air from the outside world.

“I will not take it all,” she declared.

“Stay there, mio,” her husband ordered more firmly than Jim had heard him speak to her before, and she protested no more.

“We will find others,” Arto assured her softly.

“Is she still cuffed to you?” Jim asked.

“No. I took it off long ago,” Pedro answered. “A man’s cuff on a small woman—it was easy.”

“My husband, permit me to share the hole with Senor Jim,” she begged earnestly. “But for us he would not—”

“Never mind me,” Jim whispered hastily, “I’m doing fine,” but his head was already dropping forward on his breast. He tried to raise his hand to loosen his collar, but the effort was too great, and he closed his burning eyes with a weary sigh.