  Jack stared into the countenance of a clean shaven man who might have been thirty-five years of age. The resemblance to photographs of Burton Monahan was marked. “You are Albert Monahan’s missing brother!” he accused. Ino made no attempt to replace the mask. He smiled. “So you know my name, lad. How did you learn it?” “From your brother. He financed our expedition here in search of you.” “My brother sent a party here? Well, if that isn’t one for the book!” “You are Burton Monahan?” Jack pressed him. “You don’t deny it?” “Deny it? Why should I? I’d have revealed myself before this, if I had known you were searching for me. I thought you were only here for gold.” “Nothing could be further from our purpose. Your brother assigned us to find you and bring you back to civilization. Why do you smile?” “Because this is the first I knew that I was considered lost. Evidently, my brother never received the message I sent.” “Message? What message?” “One that Captain Carter was supposed to deliver. He was to inform my brother that I was safe here. I take it he pulled a worse double-cross than I thought.” “Captain Carter told your brother that you had been missing many months. He induced him to finance this rescue party. Carter supposedly was to help us, but instead he made everything as difficult as possible.” “That I can believe,” Burton Monahan rejoined. “Captain Carter is a scoundrel. He has only one objective—to gain the Inca treasure.” “Is that what brought him back here?” “It is,” Burton Monahan said shortly. “I’ll tell you more about it later. Take me to your friends now. We must see what can be done before dawn. I’ve not exaggerated in saying that your party is in very grave danger.” The man readjusted the animal mask, though not before Jack had obtained another clear view of his clean-cut face. He was tall and exceedingly thin, but with hard, firm muscles. “It is dangerous to remain here in the plaza,” Burton said uneasily. “Captain Carter must not see you.” “Where is he?” Jack asked, leading the way toward the stone house where his friends waited. “Asleep in the palace. He’s been in a half-drunken stupor ever since the natives brought him to this sacred city.” “I take it the natives have inducted him into all of their secrets?” “Not yet. Captain Carter expects to play his trump card tomorrow after he discredits Panomuna. Then, unless I can prevent it, I fear he’ll try to make off with the treasure.” “Is the treasure hidden here in the sacred city?” Jack questioned. “No,” Burton Monahan answered. “Had it been stored in the plaza, adventurers long ago would have carted it away. The Incas hid their gold and priceless ornaments in a diabolically clever manner. So far, even Captain Carter hasn’t been able to get his hands on it.” “This treasure isn’t at the bottom of the lake?” “I may reveal the secret to you in good time,” Mr. Monahan responded. “First though, I must satisfy myself that you really were sent here by my brother. Tell me how you came to know Captain Carter.” Starting at the beginning, Jack swiftly related the manner in which the expedition had been organized. Mr. Monahan seemed satisfied with the account. “I’ll tell you about myself,” he offered, “but the story must wait until I’ve talked to your leader.” Inside the stone dwelling, Mr. Monahan made himself known to the other Scouts and Mr. Livingston. “Our mission has been accomplished,” the latter said weakly, grasping the explorer’s hand. “It appears, though, that I may never get back to report to your brother.” “You will return,” Burton Monahan assured him. “This fever from which you suffer, will pass. It is Captain Carter who presents the hazard.” “Tell us how you met him,” Mr. Livingston urged. “And why have you remained here with the natives?” “I’ve spent much of my life in Peru,” Mr. Monahan began his strange story. “Always the tale of this lost Inca city fascinated me. A few archaeologists shared my belief that it existed, while others were convinced that the ancient parchment was born of some writer’s imagination. “At any rate, I set off to find the locality. One misadventure after another beset my party—no need to bore you with the details, because you are familiar with the difficulties which befall. We encountered hostile Indians, and my natives deserted. “I was taken prisoner. I do not mean that I was mistreated, but I was not permitted to leave the village. It was during this period of captivity that I gained an inkling that I was near an ancient Inca temple and the sacred city which the Indians desired to keep from the view of white men.” “What made you pose as a medicine man?” Ken questioned. “I’m coming to that. Because of my knowledge of first aid and medicine, it was easy to impress the natives with my skill. Gradually, I won their friendship, and adopted the medicine man role as an added protection for myself. As my knowledge of the language improved, I began to pick up additional scraps of information about the hidden city and a treasure said to lie inside a mountain.” “By this time, I was reluctant to return to civilization, although I no longer was held prisoner. Village life was not too unpleasant. I lingered on, hoping to be permitted to view the sacred city. Even after I learned how entrance was gained, I dared not attempt it lest I be killed.” “And what of Captain Carter?” questioned Willie. “He came into camp one night with a few natives. Captain Carter at that time, was supplying a bandit leader with ammunition, but they had missed contact. He stumbled upon the village quite by accident.” “But we thought you and the captain were together in your search for the city!” exclaimed Ken in astonishment. “Captain Carter is an adventurer without scruples. I wish I never had set eyes on him! Unfortunately, I trusted him at first.” “Didn’t the natives make trouble for him?” Jack inquired. “They did not. Captain Carter on his first visit here was well supplied with guns. He used the ammunition to good advantage, impressing the natives, and disposing of the few who challenged his authority. Had it not been for the ruler, Panomuna, he would have been in full control here.” “Carter, I take it, learned of the treasure?” remarked Mr. Livingston. He had pulled himself to a sitting position, his back to the stone wall. “Yes, he was as familiar as I with the old legend. Stupidly, I accepted him as a friend and imparted my knowledge of the sacred city and the treasure. It was my hope to obtain the priceless archaeological objects and get them safely back to government officials. Captain Carter pretended to fall in with my plan. All the while, he was plotting to seize the treasure for himself.” “Why didn’t you return to Cuya and ask assistance?” Mr. Livingston asked. “To have done so would have started a stampede here,” Mr. Monahan explained. “Captain Carter and I both knew that special equipment would be required to lift the treasure from its resting place. So it was agreed that while I remained in the village, Captain Carter would return to my brother to obtain the necessary funds and equipment. We both felt that if the natives gained any inkling of what we were about, no white man ever again would be permitted near the sacred city.” “Carter did see your brother,” Mr. Livingston informed him. “But he told an entirely different story.” “I realize that now,” Mr. Monahan said bitterly. “Captain Carter is so certain of his position that he boasted to me not six hours ago that he intends to seize all the treasure and then turn the natives against me.” “Surely he couldn’t do that!” exclaimed Warwick. “You’re in good with ’em yourself!” “They regard Carter as a God. He has impressed them with his use of gunpowder. Why, he’s challenged Panomuna to a fire making ceremony at dawn. Carter has boasted that no matter how quickly the old Inca ruler can produce fire, he’ll do it quicker. You know, of course, who will win that competition.” “Carter,” Jack muttered. “He’s sure of himself or he wouldn’t have risked a challenge. I don’t know his scheme, but he’ll use some modern trick which will impress the natives. Then, after Panomuna is discredited, it’s my guess Carter will have no opposition in bringing up the treasure. He’s brought in everything he’ll need for the job.” “You haven’t told us where the treasure lies,” Ken reminded him. Mr. Monahan did not answer the question. Instead, he said: “Carter aims to take care of me when the time comes. As yet, I doubt that he knows of the presence of your party here. You must get away tonight while there is time.” “You’ll go with us?” Ken asked. “No, I must remain. Too much is at stake to abandon everything to that scoundrel Carter!” “We’re sticking,” Jack announced stoutly. “Maybe we can get a hold of that ammunition.” “Not a chance. Carter has it with him in the palace where he is sleeping.” “Can’t we jump him before dawn?” “That would be too dangerous. He has a guard of natives and they honor him as a God. As for yourselves, if you were seen here, you probably would be put to death.” “You’ll not leave with us?” Ken asked once more. “I can’t. It’s my duty to try to save those treasures from a vandal like Carter!” “Then I guess we’ll stick with you,” Jack said, speaking for the others. “How about it, Mr. Livingston?” “It’s the only thing to do,” he replied quietly. “You can’t remain here,” Mr. Monahan informed them. “Isn’t there a safer place where we can hide?” Ken demanded. “I could guide you through the mountain to the hidden lake,” Mr. Monahan offered after a long hesitation. “Through the mountain?” Jack repeated, struck by the phrase. “Come, we must hurry!” Mr. Monahan said impatiently, without explaining what he meant. “There is no time to lose. Very soon the natives will start coming here for the dawn ceremony.” Stooping, he lifted Mr. Livingston onto his powerful back, disregarding the Scout leader’s insistence that he was able to walk. Unseen, the group moved through the dead city, silently passing the massive statue near the ruined temple. Mr. Monahan led the way up an uneven rocky path. Burdened by Mr. Livingston’s weight, he climbed slowly. Presently however, they came to a low passageway through the rocks. Here, the Scout leader had to crawl for a considerable distance. But at length, they all came out into the starlight again. “You are now inside the mountain, so to speak,” Mr. Monahan told the Scouts. “I brought you to this hidden spot because I know you are to be trusted with the secret.” Below, only dimly visible in the fading starlight, lay a circular lake, smaller than the one into which Jack and War had dived earlier that day. With a sweep of his hand, Mr. Monahan indicated the dark waters. “There lies the fabulous treasure of the Incas. When Peru was conquered by the Spaniards, the Indians hurled great quantities of gold into this lake.” “Are there two treasure pools?” asked Jack, puzzled. “This one lying inside the mountain, and the other at the site of the ruined city?” “No,” Mr. Monahan explained, “the other lake contains little of value. An underground stream connects the two. Occasionally, a bit of treasure washes down into the lower lake. Also, a few trinkets have been offered there as sacrifice to the Sun God.” “I suppose that explains how we happened to find a single earring.” “Quite true, Jack. You might dive fifty times again and find nothing. Here, it is a different story. The lake bottom literally is covered with valuable relics of a past civilization.” “The lake is very deep?” asked Willie. “On the contrary, it is quite shallow. By daylight one can see bottom.” “In that case, can’t the treasure be brought up?” demanded Ken eagerly. “Impossible.” “Because the natives keep guard, you mean?” asked War. “The pool has its guardians—placed here ages ago by Inca priests.” “Guardians?” Jack repeated in wonder. “What sort of guardians?” “Cannibal fish. The waters are infested with them. I assure you they are very old and very vicious. Should anyone fall or dive into the pool, his life would be forfeit.” Silently the Scouts and Mr. Livingston gazed into the dark waters. Guarded by cannibal fish! Even the thought of it gave them the shivers. “A few of the smaller, practically harmless fish have found their way to the pool below,” Mr. Monahan went on. “But the guardians of this lake are a different proposition.” “Is there no way the treasure can be brought to the surface?” inquired Jack reflectively. “Oh, there are many ways, but all involve preparation and equipment. That was why Captain Carter went to my brother. It was our plan to work quietly and to bring the treasure up before news leaked out what we were about. As you have informed me, Captain Carter worked only for himself.” “You’re convinced he intends to seize the gold?” Mr. Livingston questioned. He had seated himself with his back to a large rock. “I am. As for myself, I have no desire to profit, but only to turn over the priceless relics to the government.” “Discovery of this city with its temple and remarkable treasure should make you famous,” the Scout leader remarked. “Indeed, that would be my reward. I’ve risked my life to remain here. I feel that Captain Carter is not entitled to any of the gold. He is a cheap adventurer, unscrupulous and grasping!” From directly behind the speaker, there came an unexpected scraping of rock. Startled by the sound, Mr. Monahan and the Scouts turned quickly. A shadowy figure had emerged from the tunnel exit. Before anyone could recover from surprise, Captain Carter himself confronted the group. With indolent ease, he covered them with his automatic. In the half-light, his smile was triumphant and evil. “Avast there, Monahan!” he growled. “Have a care how you blacken my good name! Now stand against yon rock, all of you! And reach for the stars!” |
|
