  Even before the dust from the slide had cleared away, Mr. Livingston and the Scouts were frantically at work. Descending into the pit, they organized the miners and themselves seized shovels. Rhodes’ left arm and his cap lay exposed. In a matter of minutes, they had freed him from the tomb of earth and rock. Badly battered and unconscious, the engineer nevertheless still breathed. On an improvised stretcher, Rhodes was carried to the cottage. His wife, meeting the procession, gazed at the prone figure, and uttered an agonized shriek. Becoming calm after a moment, she bade the Scouts carry her husband into the bedroom. “How badly is he hurt?” she asked anxiously. “We don’t know yet,” Mr. Livingston told her. “He’s lucky though, to be alive. How far is the nearest doctor?” “Bogota.” “Then we’ll have to do what we can for him ourselves. Get hot water and bandages. Antiseptic. Pain drugs if you have them.” Mrs. Rhodes hastened to obey the orders. Though the Scouts never had admired the woman, they now found themselves feeling very sorry for her. In the emergency, she worked efficiently and did not allow herself to become emotional. Getting the engineer undressed and into bed, the Explorers examined him for serious injury. Aside from innumerable scratches and cuts from fallen rock, the right arm was broken and he had a deep gash across his thigh. Mr. Livingston set the arm expertly and treated the wounds. Rhodes’ breathing had become steadier, but he did not regain consciousness. “I’m worried,” the Scout leader confessed to the Scouts who anxiously hovered near. “He should be coming around unless he has a skull injury.” “Should we send to Bogota for a doctor?” Ken suggested. “That would take more than a week, round trip. By that time, Rhodes either will be much better, or beyond help, I’m afraid. We can send Jose, but I’m doubtful that it will do any good.” Leaving Mr. Livingston and Jack with the patient, the others sought their guide. He readily agreed to go for a doctor, promising to return as quickly as possible to the mine. “When you reach the village, report Appleby Corning’s absence,” Ken urged. “Ask the authorities to send a search party.” “Si, Senor,” Jose nodded. He mounted a mule and rode away from the mine, never to be seen by the Scouts again. An irresponsible fellow, he pocketed the money they gave him, and once well away from the area, promptly forgot the mission on which he had been sent. Left with Rhodes, Jack and Mr. Livingston remained anxiously by the bedside. The patient tossed and jerked restlessly, but his occasional mutterings encouraged them to believe that he might yet recover consciousness. Mrs. Rhodes was in the kitchen when the engineer’s eyes opened for a moment. He stared blankly into Jack’s face, but without recognition. “Corning—” he muttered, his voice bitter with hatred. “I’ll get you—I’ll get you!” As Mr. Livingston moved from the window to join Jack at the bedside, the engineer again lapsed into silence. The Scout leader stood watching him. “He’s coming around, I think,” he told Jack. “While he may be out of his head for awhile, this is an encouraging sign.” Within a few minutes, the patient became so restless that he had to be restrained to keep him from flinging off the bed covers. “Don’t try to stop me!” he muttered. “I’m going back to the mine—Corning can’t take over in my place—I’ll get him for it!” “You are at the mine,” Mr. Livingston told him patiently. “Relax.” Rhodes fell back on the pillow, but only for a moment. A crafty smile overspread his pallid face. “Carlos, you’re a wicked bandido,” he chuckled, “but so very stupid! Now you will do as I tell you, we both will profit—at the expense of Senor Corning, who hates us both!” As Jack and Mr. Livingston bent low to catch the almost inaudible mutterings, Mrs. Rhodes came in with a pitcher of water. She caught the mumbled word “Corning” and stiffened alertly. “My husband is conscious?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you call me at once?” “There seemed no need,” Mr. Livingston replied. “He’s coming around, but he’s not himself yet.” “What did he say?” “Something about Corning and the bandit, Carlos.” Mrs. Rhodes laughed nervously. “His mind is wandering. Why, he doesn’t even know Carlos!” Setting the pitcher on the stand, she turned again to the pair by the bedside. “I’ll take over now, thank you.” “We don’t mind staying,” Jack said. “You may need us if he turns restless again.” “If I do, I’ll call. I prefer to be alone with my husband.” “Very well,” Mr. Livingston agreed, with a nod to Jack. “If you want us, we’ll be in our tent.” Once well away from the cottage, the two discussed the abrupt dismissal. “She was afraid her husband would spill something,” Jack declared. “We might have learned a few things if we could have stayed,” Mr. Livingston agreed. “This convinces me Rhodes knows only too well what became of Corning. It was no casual kidnapping.” “I’ll bet Rhodes paid Carlos to pull off that raid!” Jack replied. “He probably knows where Corning is held.” “He may. But Rhodes’ position here would be most insecure should Corning escape and return.” “So you figure if Rhodes planned the kidnapping, he’d want to see to it that your friend never got back?” Mr. Livingston nodded soberly. “I’d think Corning already is out of the picture except for one thing.” “What’s that, Hap?” “Carlos is a sly, treacherous fellow. Clever enough to realize that alive, Corning could be a financial asset.” “He could blackmail Rhodes!” “Yes, Jack, I figure if Carlos is wholly unscrupulous, that’s what he may do. So I half expect a ransom demand, but upon Rhodes—not the mine owners.” “That’s why you’ve been waiting here?” “Partially. I’m hoping Carlos presently will show his hand. If we can get a clue, he may lead us to the hide-out.” “With Rhodes laid up, the situation has changed!” Jack chuckled. “He won’t be sending us away today!” “No, and we’ll have a chance to talk to Phillipe. Let’s do it now.” The miner was not at his hut. However, they found him at the mine. No work was being done. Tons of rock and dirt had fallen into the pit, and must be moved before emeralds again could be mined. Disinterested, the men sat about, smoking and talking. From the general tone of the conversation, the Scouts gathered that no one grieved because of Rhodes’ accident. Drawing Phillipe aside, Mr. Livingston and Jack questioned him again as to the bandit raid. The miner repeated his previous story. He talked more freely however, and nodded wisely when Jack hinted that the kidnapping might have been plotted by Rhodes. “I can’t understand why Rhodes is so keen on being in charge here,” Mr. Livingston went on. “The vein of emeralds seems to be playing out. At least, that’s what we’ve been told.” “It is true, Senor. But greater riches not far from here.” “You’re speaking of the lost Spanish mine?” the Scout leader interposed alertly. “We saw a map in Rhodes’ office.” “Senor Corning spend many weeks searching for mine. He make big mistake in telling Senor Rhodes.” “So that’s why Rhodes was so eager to get back here!” Mr. Livingston exclaimed. “At last I begin to see the picture!” “Si, Senor, he find it by following Senor Corning’s map. Then he change map, so no one else find mine!” “That explains why Rhodes left the map lying around so carelessly,” Jack commented. “He figured that if anyone tried to use it, they’d be mixed up.” “Phillipe, who besides Mr. Corning and Rhodes knows the location of the old Spanish mine?” “No one, Senor.” “No one?” “Only me, Senor. I follow Senor Rhodes across river, into wilderness. Learn secret.” “Phillipe, could you take us to this mine?” “Very difficult trip, Senor.” “But you could guide us there?” “Si, Senor.” “We’ll make it worth your while. How far is the mine from here?” “Not far, Senor, but way hard.” “How soon can we start?” Mr. Livingston urged. “Tomorrow morning,” Phillipe said reluctantly. It was obvious he had no zest for the adventure. “Not sooner?” “No, Senor. Trip very long. Bad to be on trail over night.” “To be on the safe side, we’ll take a tent and light camping equipment,” Mr. Livingston decided. “Jack, only you and Ken are to go with us. Phillipe, be ready at dawn, and tell no one where we are going.” “Senor Rhodes make trouble if he finds out!” the miner warned. “Rhodes needn’t know about this little trip,” Mr. Livingston answered. “Anyway, he’s in no condition right now to ask any questions.” Preparations rapidly went forward for the next day’s expedition. “If all goes well, we should be back here by tomorrow night,” Mr. Livingston told Willie and War. “Once I’ve learned the location of the lost mine, I’ll have a leverage over Rhodes. I think then, if he regains his sense, I can force him to tell me the truth about Corning.” “Rhodes is coming around all right,” Willie reported. “I was up to the cottage a few minutes ago. He was sitting up in bed, guzzling soup.” “The man has the constitution of an ox,” Mr. Livingston replied. “I’m not worried about him. He’ll come through in fine shape.” “We’ll have to work fast while he’s laid up,” asserted Jack. “Once he begins to regain his strength, he’ll start tightening up on us.” That night, Mr. Livingston and the Scouts revisited the engineer. Very much himself again, he was in an ugly mood. Not even thanking them for their efforts in saving his life, he said gruffly: “My wife tells me you’re packing your stuff. Leaving?” “Only for a day,” Mr. Livingston returned. “You’re not crazy enough to venture out into the bush in search of your friend?” “Would that be crazy?” Mr. Livingston countered. “It sure would! I tell you that if you’ll wait, there may be a ransom demand.” Sudden suspicion shone in Rhodes’ dark eyes. “Say, maybe this excursion of yours doesn’t concern your friend!” Mr. Livingston made no answer. He and the Scouts already were turning toward the door. “Just a minute!” the engineer called sharply. With an effort, he half pulled himself from the bed. “If you have anything else in mind, I’m warning you to lay off or it may cost you your lives! I’m ordering you to stay here in camp!” Mr. Livingston smiled. “First you order us to leave. Now you order us to stay. Can’t you make up your mind?” “You’re taking advantage of me while I’m flat on my back!” Rhodes snarled. “Oh, you’re not fooling me one bit. I may be cooped up here, but I’m not stupid. I know what you’re about. And I’m giving you a last warning! Stay in camp, or you’ll regret it!” Mr. Livingston and the Scouts did not hear the final threat. Leaving the man to his tirade, they quietly closed the bedroom door and left the cottage. |
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