  At the union of the trails, the Scouts and the two engineers elected to make their stand against the bandits. In a frenzy of excitement, Rhodes led the others to a rock cavity where he had cached a supply of dynamite. He had hidden it there weeks before, intending to use it in an emergency if his plot to gain possession of the Last Chance mine failed. “I’ll dynamite the path ahead of Carlos!” Rhodes shouted. “He’ll be trapped behind the rock slide!” “They’re coming fast,” the other engineer warned. “Get busy!” The dynamite was planted with its fuse ready to light. But Rhodes deliberately delayed setting it off. Corning spoke sharply to him, saying he would be no party to a massacre. “That demon has the emeralds,” Rhodes muttered. “He’s a traitor. I want to finish him!” “Set off the charge,” Corning ordered. “Now!” Carlos and his men still were a considerable distance away. Rhodes hesitated, but realized that his will was not to prevail. With a shrug he lighted the fuse and everyone rushed for cover. The minutes of waiting seemed endless. As the explosion failed to materialize, Rhodes began to fret and worry. “That dynamite was stored too long,” he muttered. “I was afraid it had lost its juice. I’m going to take a look. The fuse may have gone out.” Corning hauled him back to cover. Scarcely thirty seconds elapsed when a terrific explosion shook the earth. Jack, Ken and Mr. Livingston flattened themselves, face downward. Even so, they were showered with dirt and chips of rock. When the dust had settled, Corning and Rhodes went to investigate. They returned to report jubilantly that tons of rock now blocked the path giving access to Carlos’ hide-out. “He and his men are trapped back there in the hills,” Corning told the Scouts. “Is there no way out for them?” Jack asked. “None, unless they climb down the cliffs. If I know Carlos, he will not attempt it. We’ll send the authorities, who at their leisure can reopen the passage. By that time, I imagine Carlos no longer will be in a belligerent mood.” “Rhodes?” Jack questioned. “What’s to be done about him? He plotted to put himself back at the mine in your place.” “I know,” the engineer replied. “Carlos told me the whole sordid story while I was his captive. Rhodes is greedy, and for years, before I took over at Emerald Valley, he milked the mine for his own benefit. Even so, I feel sorry for the fellow.” “You don’t aim to let him escape?” “We can’t do that,” Corning answered after a moment’s thought. “No, we’ll take him on to Bogota and let company officials decide what’s to be done. As for myself, I’m willing to forget the foul trick he played on me.” “What about the lost emeralds? Carlos robbed Rhodes of a small fortune.” “We may get them back,” Corning said, undisturbed. “With the path blocked, Carlos isn’t going anywhere. If the authorities will back me up, I’ll return here with a posse and force the bandits to give up the gems.” “What of the mine?” “It can’t be left many days without someone in charge. I’ll see the party safely to Bogota, and get back to my post.” So it was decided. That very night, the Scouts pushed on, accompanied by Rhodes, who surprisingly offered no resistance. With the loss of the emeralds, all the spirit and fight seemed to have left him. He and Corning talked together almost as friends. “I resented it because the company put you in charge,” Rhodes told the other. “I figured you were a greenhorn and I could get rid of you without much trouble. So I hooked up with Carlos, paying him to stage a fake raid and haul you off.” “That’s where your plan backfired.” “Yes. Carlos double-crossed me as I might have expected. He kept demanding more money, threatening to release you and tell all.” “We saw you flashing signals down the mountain,” Ken commented, entering the conversation. “You were communicating with Carlos?” “That’s right. We had worked out a crude code system. It never was very effective.” “Carlos took you by surprise today on the trail?” “Yes, with a little luck, I’d have made it to Bogota with the emeralds.” “Leaving Mr. Corning to his fate?” Rhodes flushed, ashamed to have his intentions so openly discussed. He fell into a morose silence, making no further attempt to act friendly. On the trail, Mr. Corning and Mr. Livingston had ample opportunity to renew their old friendship. The engineer explained that he had urged the Scout leader to come to Emerald Valley in the hope of forestalling the very situation which had developed. “Carlos has been terrorizing these hills for years,” he informed his friend. “I suspected that Rhodes was stirring things up a bit, but I never had proof. That was one reason I sent for you. I figured you could help me.” “That vein should establish the Last Chance on a highly productive basis again,” Mr. Corning asserted. “Operations should remain profitable for many years.” Rhodes talked very little during the tedious journey back to civilization. He admitted however, that he had ordered his workmen to weaken the log bridge so that the Scouts would be stranded across the river. “I figured you would find the vein,” he confessed. “I wasn’t ready to start mining operations until I had made certain Corning wouldn’t come back to plague me. So I figured I could keep you tied up across the river for a day or so until I could make my plans. It didn’t work.” “You and your wife teamed with Ferd Baronni to get a cut on all the emeralds mined under your direction?” Jack probed. “That is, you saw to it that a certain percentage of them never went through to company officials?” Rhodes would make no admission implicating either his wife or the company agent. However, the Scouts were determined to learn the entire truth. Days later, in Bogota, after the deposed mining engineer had been turned over to company officials, they rejoined Willie and War who assisted in piecing together the full story. Lounging comfortably in a hotel room, the two Scouts recounted their own unpleasant adventures on the trail. “Mrs. Rhodes gave us a rough time of it,” War told his friends. “She tried to trick us about the emerald. We knew she turned over a poor imitation of the gem to company officials, but it took Willie to prove it.” “I remembered that back in Santa Marta she told us she disliked bananas,” Willie related with a chuckle. “I couldn’t figure out why she carried a sack of ’em with her when she left the mine. I tried to take one from the bunch, and she set up an awful yip. That started me to thinking. So, we mashed up the bananas and found the prize emerald!” “She’d been carrying gems that way for quite a while without being caught,” War added. “We turned the good emerald over to company officials. It’s top grade.” “What did you learn about Ferd Baronni?” Ken questioned. “Oh, he’s hooked up with Rhodes,” War answered. “In checking the books, company auditors found a lot of discrepancies. So Baronni’s been fired.” “We learned too, that it was Baronni who hired that sled-boat operator to try to delay our trip to the mine,” contributed Willie. “He figured a big dose of trouble would discourage us from going on.” In due time, the Scouts met company officials and learned first hand that Rhodes and his wife were to be shipped out of the country. Company representatives, grateful to the Explorers, also told them that they were to enjoy a three weeks’ vacation at the firm’s expense. Mr. Livingston and the Scouts were put up at Bogota’s best hotel. Sightseeing trips, deluxe food and luxurious rooms were theirs at no cost. Unfortunately, Mr. Corning could not remain with the party. Uneasy about the mine, he obtained a posse and set off at once for Emerald Valley. For more than a week, the Scouts received no word. Then by messenger they were informed that Carlos had been captured and the stolen emeralds recovered. Mr. Corning notified them that he had reopened the mine, and would resume operations at the new site across the river. The Scouts did not expect to see him again during their stay in Colombia. Therefore, it came as a pleasant surprise, when, three days before their scheduled departure by plane for the States, the engineer suddenly appeared at their hotel. “I couldn’t let you fly off without saying goodbye,” he told them. “Not after all you did for me! We’re going to pack a lot of excitement into your last few days here.” The engineer more than kept his word. He took the Scouts everywhere and constantly delighted them with new and interesting sights. “If this gay life keeps up much longer we’ll be softies,” Jack asserted one afternoon on their final day in Bogota. “It’s been swell here, but I’ve had enough.” “Same here,” warbled Willie. “Emerald hunting is okay, but give me the USA.” “You know I catch myself thinking about that nice quiet camping trip to Minnesota,” admitted War sheepishly. “The one we always plan to take, and never do.” “We’ll make it yet,” promised Mr. Livingston. “Next summer maybe.” “Sounds great!” approved Ken, stretching luxuriously on the hotel sofa. “There’s only one drawback.” “What’s that?” asked Jack. “A vacation without bandits might seem dull.” “Different anyhow,” contributed War. “Maybe so,” drawled Jack. “All the same, it will seem mighty good to open that old Post log book again—to start once more where we left off.” Thinking of the reunion they would have with their friends and fellow Scouts, the Explorers all became silent. Two wonderful vacations in South America had conditioned them to high adventure! And even more was in store. |
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