The bandits sat up, stared with mouths gaping at the band of Indians filing silently past them. Neither Mills nor Lang appeared to realize that the captives had managed to free themselves of the ropes, and the Flying Buddies, the small guns resting ready in their palms, were on the alert, prepared to turn the tables on the men if necessary.

In the meantime the entire passage was illuminated with a weird yellow light and the natives’ moving bodies cast grotesque shadows before, behind and all about them. Huge dark figures out of all proportion, wavered through the narrow cavern as they, completely ignoring the presence of the white men, passed along soundlessly. It was a strange spectacle the lads witnessed, and one they could not explain. There were about forty or fifty men, women and young girls, all carrying precious burdens in ancient receptacles, and occasionally a glittering object fell from the over-flowing containers. One of these dropped between Lang’s knees and his eyes glowed greedily as they rested on it, but he sat with eyes and mouth open and did not move.

For ten or fifteen minutes the strange procession passed slowly along and finally the last man, a tall young Indian armed with a long, black-tipped spear, brought up the rear. He paused for an instant beside Mills, and stared down at the man who crouched in terror, then he proceeded to join his companions. He was out of sight before Lang leaped to his feet. In his hand was the jewel which had fallen, and his face was contorted with viciousness.

“Mills, it’s native—”

“Think I’m blind,” Mills muttered, but he got up more slowly; it was not easy to rid himself of the effect of those dark piercing eyes.

“They are carrying away tons of stuff; gold and stones. We hit the place all right. Come on, we’ll see where they hide it and help ourselves—” Lang was nearly consumed with excitement.

“Help ourselves—” Mills repeated dully.

“Sure, look!” He held out the shining trinket. “Those natives always do that, I’ve read about it. Years ago—they hid carloads of stuff and nobody could find it, but lately some caches have been located and these fellows are hiding their treasures in a new place. We’ll see where it is—”

“Say, Bo, listen, we aint awake, see! This is a dream I’m havin’, all by myself, you aint in it at all, but you seem to be.” Mills brushed his hand over his forehead.

“Oh, you’re crazy,” Lang insisted.

“Just asleep. We been thinkin’ so much about those hiding places that I’m dreaming all this, but listen, if it was real those fellows would never have trailed right over us like that—never—why, I could see right through them—it’s a dream I tell you—”

“Come along, I’ll show you if it’s a dream,” Lang shouted. “They’ll get away if we don’t hustle.” He dashed off after the last Indian who had disappeared from sight.

Mills followed reluctantly at a slower pace, while the Flying Buddies cautiously brought up the rear. As he went on they could hear him muttering to himself that he was dreaming, that it wasn’t real, and Lang was a nut.

“It does seem queer,” Bob remarked thoughtfully.

“Shall I give you a pinch so you’ll be sure you are awake?” Jim asked soberly.

“Yes, go ahead,” Caldwell invited. His step-brother started to comply but he no sooner got a bit of the fleshy part of his arm between his fingers than Bob drew away. “I’m convinced. Come on, hurry up, it isn’t as light as it was!”

The pellets the boys had swallowed some hours earlier had refreshed them amazingly so they forgot that they had had little food, rest or water, as they ran as hard as they could go along the passage, which presented no difficulties to progress. They had raced about five minutes before they overtook Lang and Mills, and some distance ahead they could see the backs of the Indians marching forward with dignified tread. Nearly a quarter of an hour the white men followed the dark ones through the opening in the dense forest until at last Lang, who was leading, paused and raised his hand. Mills drew close to his partner, but the Flying Buddies remained at a respectful distance. They were on higher ground and could see quite easily what was happening.

The place beyond where the Buddies were standing was like a deep gully whose sides rose steeply, like a wall. Thick vines grew about twenty feet from the bottom and these were woven across the top in an impenetrable mass through which neither rain nor sunshine could pass. The boxes and baskets were placed on the ground in a circle and the men stood behind them, each armed with long and short spears. It looked as if the women were moving about preparing a meal, but suddenly there came a fierce braying of dogs, the thunder of galloping hoofs, hundreds of them, and the deafening clatter of steel. A moment later a huge black brute with powerful hungry jaws leaped in from behind the rocks, and almost instantly a horse and rider raced furiously in after him.

“Great Guns, Bob, he’s in armor,” Jim whispered.

“Bronc and all,” Caldwell added in amazement. It reminded the boys of some historical moving picture in which armored knights and horses suddenly leaped to life and action. For a breathless instant they stood too astonished to speak.

After their leader, a great pack of the dogs rushed along with soldiers protected from head to foot by their coats of mail and helmets. Queer weapons were fired, blunderbusses and heavy cross-bows, long swords flashed and after ten minutes of the wildest confusion the natives were dead, all except a few women and children who were slung up behind the soldiers, while others gathered the treasure in their arms and galloped away with the rich booty, but as they scrambled up the rocks, a number of them were dislodged and came tumbling down. The stones seemed to mark the wall of some natural dam, for instantly there was a terrific boom, boom, and tons of water roared over, sweeping the burdened horses helplessly before it. Snarling and fighting the dogs struggled to swim to safety, but most of them were battered by heavy armor or kicking hoofs, so that they sunk with their laden masters in the swirling water.

“Get back,” Lang shrieked in terror, but although the water had reached their side, the main part of it found a lower outlet, and it flowed off among the boulders. However it was deep enough so that there was no evidence of what it concealed, and the four who had witnessed the horrible tragedy stared mutely at one another.

“I tell you I’m dreaming,” Mills repeated.

“Let’s get out of here,” cried Lang, glancing about him fearfully.

“How are we going to do it?”

“Follow the stream around to the other side,” Jim suggested.

“Say, what in—”

“You needn’t say it,” Jim snapped, or rather barked. “Face about and get going. Make it lively—”

“You brats—”

“Save those little pleasantries for later, old man,” Jim ordered. “It’s your turn to lead this party—”

“I’ll be killed—”

“Surely,” Bob cut in. “You’ll get what you promised us if you don’t do as you are told. The first thing is to relieve yourself of your weapons, all of them. Turn your pockets inside out, both of you.”

“Well—”

“Don’t wait.” Bob pressed forward, the gun pointing straight at Mills’ belt and in terror the fellow threw up his hands. “I told you to turn your pockets inside out, and take off your gun belt. Do it quick or I’ll shoot it off. My folks taught me to use a gun when they showed me how to handle a spoon, and right now I’ve got a lot against you; my fingers are itching to press the spring, besides it would be no end easier for Buddy and me to get out of this place alone. We’re only taking you along because we like your company—”

“We’d better tie them up and leave them here,” Jim suggested, although he had no such intention.

“Don’t do that—don’t do that—” Lang’s teeth chattered with fright as he pleaded, and he hastily turned his pockets wrong side out, also removed his cartridge belt and a holster which he had strapped under his arm. Jim kicked the stuff into the water, while Bob attended to Mills.

“Now, take off your shirts then we’ll be sure you haven’t got anything hidden or try anything queer. I’m going to tie you, but not so that you are as helpless as we were.” While Jim stood guard, he secured the pair with the one lariat, then he took the end of the rope. “Just a little funny business and this will pull up tight, so watch yourself—now goose-step.”

The two men faced about and started, Caldwell holding one end of their rope. He had the gun in his other hand, while Jim walked beside him, his weapon pointed at the bare backs. It was difficult making their way along the edge of the stream, but they finally managed it, then saw that the route lead forward in a comparatively smooth trail. Two hours they proceeded, winding in and out, twisting and turning as if the designers of the passage had sought to build a labyrinth for some ancient lover’s lane. Then the way grew suddenly quite rugged and a bit later the boys and their captured captors discovered that they were tramping over a high stone bridge which seemed to be a natural formation of the rocks. All of the time the vines and trees formed the solid arch above their heads, but occasionally sections were considerably lighter than others.

“Say, where do you think you are going to take us?” Mills growled.

“Out,” Bob answered shortly.

“Yeh, when we get out, then what?”

“To the nearest jail, where you belong,” Jim told him.

“Well, I’m telling you now, I’m not going to no jail,” Mills cried.

“Aw shut up,” Lang ordered.

“Shut up yourself,” Mills retorted. “I aint done nothing to go to jail for—”

“No, well you’ve done as much as I have—”

“You’re a liar.” Mills fist shot out and he struck his companion a resounding crack on the side of the face.

Lang’s foot went up hard, caught the fellow in the stomach with such force that Mills doubled up like a jackknife, screamed with pain, and his feet slipped so that he slid across the rock.

“Catch him, Lang,” Jim shouted quickly.

“He’ll take you with him,” warned Bob.

At that the gang leader clutched the rope which held the two but Mills was already dangling over the edge. Desperately Lang threw all his weight on the opposite side. Jim and Bob sprang to help him, but as they pulled the section of the rope which Caldwell had knotted after he had chewed the strands, parted, and the smaller man went tumbling over backward into the rushing stream. The boys dared not stop to help him, but put all their strength into dragging Mills to safety. It was minutes before the big man was on the bridge again, and by that time there was no sign of the leader of the gang, although the boys made every effort to locate him. They were panting from the exertion and pale with horror at what had happened.

“Can you walk now?” Jim asked grimly.

“Yes,” Mills answered.

“We’ll be on our way.” Silently they proceeded and just beyond the next turn they found themselves in the ruins of an ancient court with moss-grown stone seats which faced the east.

“Looks a bit like one of the temple ruins near Cuzco,” Caldwell remarked just to make conversation.

“Yes,” replied Austin, then added with a sigh of relief, “Jinks, Buddy, the sun is shining through! Isn’t it great!”

“Surely is,” Bob agreed. They looked about and although some of the larger branches of the tall trees interlaced over their heads, the foliage was not so matted and they were sure that either no attempt had been made by the natives to conceal the spot, or any ancient hiding growths had been broken away during the passing years. Mills glanced nervously around him and when he saw that they were really in the sunlight, he began to babble incoherently.

“Think we’d better let him go?” Jim suggested. There was pity in his tone and he spoke softly for he thought that this last member of the gang that had taken them prisoners was losing what little reason he ever possessed.

“I figure we’re out of the passage, but we don’t know where we are yet. If we turn him loose he may starve to death before he reaches a settlement or any one runs across him; then, if we let him keep with us until we get out it will be safer to keep him in hand. He can be a nasty bird and after a while some of the effects of what we were through may wear off, then he’ll revert to his charming self again and probably try to break our necks,” Bob answered, and after a moment’s consideration, Jim nodded that it was the wiser course.

“Go along,” he motioned to Mills, whose knees wobbled under him and his fingers fumbled inanely about his mouth.

“He’s nutty, all right,” said Bob.

They advanced toward the towering ruin, and crossed what had once been a magnificent Square with a beautiful fountain playing in the centre. The clear water still trickled up between the stones, some of which were polished until they glistened like fiery opals. The other side of the square was the first tier of a wide terrace, its massive walls seamed in even lines as its ancient builders had laid the rocks with infinite care, one above the other, and side by side. There were a few small fruit trees whose branches were gnarled and twisted; several giant olives which might have been imported from Spain hundreds of years ago; tall cactus with thorns sharp as spear points and strong as spikes stuck up like sentinels, while patches of smaller varieties spread over large sections of the sandy soil.

The Buddies and their half-witted companion made their way slowly around where they could walk safely and presently they discovered a groove. They were not sure if it had once been the bed of a small stream or a path worn through the years by the natives whose abodes had been somewhere in the vicinity, but they followed it because it was easier walking and soon they reached an irregular, winding stairway with a high, stone balustrade on both sides.

“Let’s go up as far as we can,” Jim proposed.

“That’s a good idea. From the top we may be able to get our bearings,” Bob assented. He was usually full of fun despite adventures or danger, but the long hours spent in the passage, the tragic events which had piled themselves one after the other, had left him grave. There wasn’t a sign of a grin on his lips, and his usually laughing eyes were mighty thoughtful.

“Hope we can find a way to the plane soon,” said Jim as they proceeded upward.

“Me too,” Bob replied, then he glanced about. “I say, Buddy, the sun is where it was when we started in that passage.”

“I was thinking of that,” Jim told him. They stopped and looked at each other.

“Suppose we were there more than one round of the clock?”

“I don’t believe so. It’s a safe bet we were there twenty-four hours, or nearly. I was depending on the plane clock, so didn’t wear a watch.”

“Red cribbed mine when he was searching me,” Bob said quietly.

“Eh, why didn’t you tell him it was a relation of the green emerald rings?” Jim chuckled. “Mills was certainly afraid of them.”

“I thought of that, but I should worry. Gosh, Red surely—”

“Here we are on a second terrace,” Jim interrupted for he wanted Bob to forget, as fast as he could, that experience at the rotten log where Red had met his fate.

“Must have been a wonderful structure this,” Bob answered. He understood why Jim had cut in, and was as anxious as the older boy to get the troubles of the last twenty-four hours out of his mind.

“Seems to me I hear something, a sort of tapping,” said Jim. They stood still and listened, every nerve tense, but gradually they relaxed for the place was as silent as the bottom of the deepest unopened tomb in the universe.

“Hear it now?”

“Guess it was my imagination. Come on.” They started again, crossed the second terrace, and several times they paused to scan the sky. In fact, they were far more interested in what might come out of the path of the blazing sun than what they would discover on terra-firma, for they both felt confident that their absence had not passed unobserved by their friends at the barracks.

“Figuring that we tramped twelve or fifteen hours all together, how many miles do you believe we covered?” Jim asked when they stopped to rest on the third terrace.

“Sometimes we went pretty slowly,” Bob answered.

“I know. I was trying to dope it out as we went along. It didn’t seem to me as if the passage made many turns, but that’s hard to tell because it went up and down, across rivers and probably under sections of the mountains.”

“Sure, but it seems to me we can’t be as much as a hundred miles from the top of that little hill, where we started. To be sure, it wasn’t very high, but for natives to have a covered way—gosh—I don’t know. We did hear that the ancient natives made hidden ways for hundreds of miles; they needed to in order to get away, but it doesn’t seem possible that we can have gone a hundred miles—”

“Anyway, we can’t be a hundred air miles from where we started. What I’m trying to figure is the chances of Bradshaw and some of the rest locating us soon.”

“Yes, they’ll be hunting sure as fate but I’m afraid even if they flew over that place where the planes were left, they would not notice them. Those lads did a good job of covering up.”

“That’s right—”

“Jim, shhh—there’s somebody, a white man, sneaking behind those rocks just ahead of us,” Bob whispered softly.