Secrets of the Andes

“No. Go ahead and call him,” directed Bob, who was moving up to the door. “Spike can find another car that’s going to Chicago. We want to get home.”

Disregarding the lad’s protest, Joe shouted and motioned for the man to come to the box car. There was a look of surprise on the fellow’s face as he moved over to where the three were trapped.

“What’s it all about?” he demanded. “You guys trying to steal a ride, huh? Come on out of there and pick a car that ain’t got anything in it.”

“We can’t get out,” explained Joe. “Locked in, I guess. That’s what we wanted of you. See if you can get the door open.”

“Oh! So they penned you up, huh? Yeah. I see that locked chain now. Sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t do anything for you.”

“But – but we’ve got to get out,” Joe said persistently. “We haven’t had anything to eat for quite a while.”

The man hesitated a moment.

“Got any money?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Let’s see it.”

Joe held up a half-dollar.

“O.K. There’s a grocery a block from here. Want me to get you something?”

Delighted at such a chance, Joe instructed the trainman to purchase several articles of food that would be sufficient to last for several days. It was with a feeling of high hope that the youths watched the man walk in the direction of the store.

In less than fifteen minutes he was back and handed Joe a sack of groceries in return for money. In recognition for his service, the youth tipped him generously.

“Now for a delicious meal,” said Bob, smacking his lips. “And will we eat!”

The boys did eat, and felt much better for it. When they had scraped up the last crumb, they stretched out on the burlap sacks.

The remainder of the day passed without incident. Darkness was just setting in when, with a slight jerk, the train started moving.

Even though they had expected an undisturbed sleep, Bob and Joe were delighted that they were again on their way. Every mile left behind would mean that they were nearer Chicago, which was perhaps the only city at which they could hope to escape from their prison.

“Let’s hope we make good time now,” breathed Bob, as he and his friends turned in, to get what sleep a rumbling train would allow them.

All through the night the freight rattled on, this time much faster than before. Although several stops were made, the train made unusually good time, pulling into Cincinnati late the next morning.

“Here’s where we’ll have to wait,” said Joe. “They might keep us switched here for several days.”

Almost at once their box car was sidetracked, and was not moved until late the next day. About four o’clock another engine was attached, a much shorter train being formed. Then slowly it pulled off the switch and found a through track.

Bob and Joe could hardly believe their eyes. Were they to leave Cincinnati so soon?

An hour later this question was answered. The boys found themselves speeding along to Chicago, after having remained on the switch less than twenty-four hours.

“I suppose we’ll stop at every town and small city in Indiana,” said Bob gloomily. “Even though this is a fast freight, a delay will be almost inevitable.”

The youth was right. It was nearly three days later when the train entered the city limits of Chicago. Gary and other cities of the Calumet district had been left behind.

After what seemed like hours of constant travel in the metropolis, the freight stopped at a busy switch yard, where scores of trains were moving in all directions.

Suddenly Bob cried out in delight as he caught sight of a man walking up the track. The youth recognized this fellow as the one who had snapped the lock on the box-car door, making the young men and Spike prisoners on the train.

Bob at once called the man, who, upon hearing, turned about in surprise.

“Why – what – what are you doing in that car?” he demanded angrily, as he caught sight of the youth.

“We want to get out!” Bob’s voice was cool and determined.

“But how did you get in there? I thought I locked that door. I – ”

“Let us out and we’ll tell you all about it,” Bob pleaded.

The man pulled a bunch of keys out of his pocket and immediately unlocked the door. Bob hurriedly rolled it open and jumped out, followed by Joe and young Spike.

It was good to feel their feet on the ground again. Bob and Joe could have cried out in joy. But there was little time to do this, for the trainman demanded an explanation of their presence.

Briefly Bob narrated the circumstances that led to their boarding the train, shielding Spike as much as possible. When he had finished, the man viewed the young lad critically.

“I think I’ll turn you over to the yard master,” he said to Spike, “and see that you get what’s coming to you.”

He roughly caught hold of the boy’s arm and pulled him forward.

“Wait a minute,” begged Joe. “Spike didn’t do any harm. He’s promised to quit running around and go home and go to school.”

“Well, he ain’t gonna get no sympathy from me. I got no use for a kid that rides freights.”

He gave the boy another pull, this time so violent that the latter slipped and fell, bruising his face on the cinders.

Bob grew furiously angry. He stepped boldly up to the trainman.

“Let the boy alone!” he demanded, his eyes seeming to penetrate the man.

CHAPTER IV

The Surly Trainman

BEFORE the blaze in Bob’s eyes the man shrank back, hesitated a moment, and then turned in the direction of the freight station.

“All right,” he snarled. “But don’t let me catch the kid around here again, or you either.”

He walked up the track to the end of the train, then disappeared behind the engine.

“Gee, that was swell of you,” said Spike to Bob. “You sure had that guy scared.”

“He was glad enough to get out of it,” laughed Joe. “Old Bob wouldn’t have left a grease spot of him.”

“But now,” began Bob, anxious to turn this tribute aside, “let’s figure out what to do. I suppose the only thing – ”

“I want to get home,” Spike interrupted. “I may have something comin’ to me, but the sooner I get it over, the better.”

“Where do you live?” Joe asked.

“Only about a half-mile from here.”

Joe got a piece of paper and pencil out of his pocket. He tore off one corner and wrote down the address of himself and his friend. This he gave to Spike.

“Here,” he said. “Write us a letter some time. Now where do you live?”

Spike told him, and then, with a warm good-bye, he left the youths and hurried down the track.

Bob and Joe watched the lad until he disappeared from view. Even after they lost sight of him, they stood gazing in that direction until a locomotive whistle roused them.

“He’s a good kid, all right,” smiled Bob. “Might be an aimless wanderer, but he has a lot in him.”

“Got a keen sense of humor, too,” said Joe, and then added: “I wonder if he’ll really go to school and make something out of himself, as he said he would?”

“Hard telling. A lot can happen to change his mind, you know.”

For several minutes Bob and Joe watched the busy scene about the tracks. Finally a factory whistle from afar prompted Joe to glance at his watch.

“Nearly two o’clock,” he announced. “Come on. Let’s hurry down to the freight station and see if we can send a telegram to our folks. If we hadn’t lost the car in that river, we would have been home several days ago.”

The youths moved down to the building and went inside. After making several inquiries they finally found the main office, where they were permitted to send a telegram. Then they left the building and walked in the direction of the street.

“Good old Chicago,” smiled Joe. “It’s only been a couple of months since we were here.”

Bob stopped suddenly.

“That reminds me,” he started. “We came here with our dads to see a Mr. Wallace, who’s with the Museum of Natural History, didn’t we? And this Mr. Wallace is planning on going with our dads’ expedition to the Andes Mountains, isn’t he? Do you suppose he’s left for Washington yet?”

Joe’s face lightened.

“I see what you mean,” he said. “We can go and see him, and incidentally we can borrow enough money to get home on. Suppose we go to the museum now.”

The boys were familiar with Chicago and had no difficulty in taking a street car. After a half-hour’s ride they got off within a few squares of the museum. A ten-minute walk brought them to the main entrance.

At the office they made inquiries about Mr. Wallace and finally found him in a laboratory on the second floor. He smiled broadly as he recognized Bob and Joe.

“Well, this is an unexpected pleasure,” he said, extending his hand. “What, may I ask, are you fellows doing in Chicago? Why aren’t you getting ready for that Andes expedition?”

“It isn’t our fault that we’re here,” laughed Bob, and then proceeded to tell of the events that led to their presence. “Since we finally landed here, we thought we’d come to the museum and see if you had left for Washington yet,” he concluded.

“A strange chain of circumstances,” the scientist breathed. “Not many could go through all that in the course of a few days. No doubt it was your first experience as hoboes, was it not?”

“First and last,” returned Joe. “We’ve had all we want of it. But now,” he went on, “when are you going to Washington? The expedition leaves in little more than a week.”

“I had planned to go day after tomorrow,” Mr. Wallace said. “I think everything will be in readiness by that time. I’d like to spend at least three days in Washington talking with your fathers and others of the expedition before sailing. Of course you fellows are familiar with the details of the expedition, are you not?”

“Quite the contrary,” returned Bob. “You see, when the matter was first mentioned, about a month ago, there was not much known about it. Our dads declined to say much, because they were not absolutely sure they were going. Joe and I, though, had a sort of feeling that they were going, and finally got permission to stay out of college at least a half-year.”

“So you could go with the expedition?” interrupted the scientist.

Bob nodded.

“We figured we’d get as much good out of such a trip as we could get in a university,” he explained. “Then, too, there’s a chance of making money by taking motion pictures, as we did on our other expeditions.”

“I think you did wisely,” Mr. Wallace said. “It usually isn’t good for a fellow to get out of college too young. When an extraordinary chance like this turns up, it’s best to take it.”

He motioned for the boys to follow him into his office, where several chairs were arranged about the desk. A large bookcase occupied a whole end of the room, while opposite it was a case of instruments and preservatives.

“Sit down,” he directed them, “and we’ll talk over this Peruvian expedition.”

Bob and Joe did as directed, glad of the chance to rest their tired limbs.

Mr. Wallace procured an atlas, opened it to a map of Peru, and drew an imaginary line in the lower right-hand corner.

“Here’s Cuzco,” he pointed out. “We’ll probably make it or some other near-by city our base. From there we’ll go into the Andes Mountains on our varied scientific quests.”

“But what – what is the main purpose of the expedition?” inquired Joe. “Of course, you and Mr. Holton and Dad are naturalists, who want to get specimens of animal life. But that isn’t the chief aim of the expedition, is it?”

“No. It is being sent out by the division of ethnology at the museum in Washington. The scientists in that field have in mind mainly to study the ruins of the vanished Inca civilization. Those Indians, you know, that built so many marvelous works of architecture. That’s about as much as I know about them, though,” he laughed. “My line runs straight through the field of natural history and zoölogy, and incidentally anatomy, histology, taxonomy, embryology, ecology – ”

“That’s enough!” interrupted Bob, smiling sheepishly. “You don’t expect Joe and me to be acquainted with all those subjects, do you? We’re pretty good shots, but as scientists we’re as yet a complete flop.”

A general laugh ensued, after which the naturalist again pointed to the map.

“We are to explore the region northwest of Lake Titicaca,” he continued. “I understand there are some very high peaks in this range, all the way from ten to twenty thousand feet in altitude.”

“These Incas,” started Joe, “when did they live? It hasn’t been so very long ago, has it?”

“Not as time is usually thought of. The sixteenth century witnessed their downfall. This was at the time of the Spanish South American explorations, you know.”

“Those Spaniards sure saw something unusual and unexpected,” remarked Bob. “This mountainous region was chock-full of architectural wonders, all built by the Incas.”

“Something tells me we’ll see sights, all right,” said Joe. “It will be good to get away from home again – into the unknown, I mean. And that reminds me. Would it be possible for you to lend us enough money to get back to Washington?”

“Why – of course. How much do you need?”

“Fifty dollars will pull us through. Perhaps we can get along on less than that,” was the answer from Bob.

“All right. I’ll see that you get it. But wait! I expect to go day after tomorrow with a friend, who is driving East on business. There will be plenty of room for two more. You fellows don’t have to get home at once, do you?”

“No, we don’t have to,” returned Joe. “We – ”

“Suppose you be my guests until then. I’ll be only too glad to have you. In the meantime we can be discussing the coming expedition.”

“We’d sort of hate to do that,” Bob said. “It will mean a lot of trouble to you.”

“Forget it! I’ll be only too glad to have you.”

“Well, all right, if you – ” Joe began.

“We’ll call it settled,” Mr. Wallace said. “And now, since my day is practically over, we may as well go to the house. That is, if you’re ready.”

“We’re ready any time,” Bob told him.

The three went outside, to a place where the naturalist’s automobile was parked. All got inside and drove through the city till they came to a beautiful suburb.

“Here’s my place,” said Mr. Wallace, pointing to a large house of rather costly design.

Inside, the youths were introduced to Mrs. Wallace, who made them feel perfectly at home.

“I hate to see Mr. Wallace leave on an expedition,” she said, “but I can appreciate his interest in science. In fact, I have often wished I could accompany him. Be a sort of Mrs. Martin Johnson, you know.”

“I wish our mothers were like that,” laughed Bob. “If they were, perhaps Joe and I wouldn’t have so much difficulty in getting their consent to go with our dads.”

A bountiful dinner was soon served, Bob and Joe eating heartily.

“And now I have a surprise for you,” Mr. Wallace said, when the meal was over. “It is something I know we all will enjoy, especially in view of what is to come.”

The young men looked inquiring.

CHAPTER V

As Guests of the Naturalist

“WHAT is the surprise?” inquired Joe Lewis anxiously.

“This: I made arrangements for a movie to be shown – purely for our own benefit,” the naturalist explained. “It deals with Peru and the Andes.”

“The region we’re going to explore!” cried Joe, delighted beyond words. “Why, that will be wonderful!”

“I’ve never seen it,” Mr. Wallace said. “But the chances are it will be good. Perhaps we had better go before long. It is to be shown at eight o’clock, and we haven’t a great deal of time to get down there.”

“Where?” inquired Bob.

“To the museum – in the auditorium,” was the response.

Mrs. Wallace asked that she be permitted to go also, and the others consented at once. The wonderful civilization of the ancient Inca Indians she knew not a little about.

At the museum they found several score people waiting for the movie to be shown. There was a friendly gathering for a half-hour or so, at which Mr. Wallace introduced a number of scientist friends from the museum and Chicago universities.

Then the lights were switched off and the movie was projected. It proved everything and more that Bob and Joe had expected, showing the fascinating country of Peru.

The shy Indians with their flat “pancake” hats, the curious llamas and alpacas, the magnificent heights of the mighty Andes, the many old ruins of the Incas – all these and more were depicted on the screen.

It was very inspiring, especially to the boys and Mr. Wallace, who were delighted that before long they would be able actually to visit those wonderful places.

During the drive home the naturalist’s conversation was directed chiefly about this inspiring country, his excitement being almost like that of a small boy. But if the naturalist was impressed, the youths were still more. They longed for the great day to come when they would leave for the wonderland of Peru.

It was so late when they arrived at the Wallace residence that the youths and their hosts decided to retire at once.

“I’m not going to the museum today,” announced the naturalist the next morning at breakfast. “There is so much that has to be done in the way of preparing for the coming expedition that I won’t have time for anything else.”

“If there’s anything Joe and I can do for you, we’ll be glad to do it,” said Bob. “Our preparations won’t begin until we get back to Washington.”

The young men proved to be of valuable service to the scientist. Their previous experience in preparing for exploration ventures enabled them to offer valuable suggestions to Mr. Wallace, even though the latter had made numerous trips for the good of science.

The vast resources of the great metropolis enabled them to find anything that the naturalist needed in the way of outdoor equipment. All that day and half of the next were spent in the business district.

“Now if you fellows like sport, as I do, what do you say about a little target practice?” Mr. Wallace asked them, after the noon lunch.

“What do we say?” Joe was overjoyed. “Lead us to it!”

In the extreme rear of the lawn was a large rifle range. Here, with the guns that Mr. Wallace generously furnished, they took turns exercising their skill at the trigger. Bob easily placed himself above the others by striking the very heart of the bull’s-eye.

“I thought I was a fair shot,” smiled the scientist. “But you have me beat by a mile.”

“Just happened that I hit it, I guess,” Bob said modestly.

But when he again was able to send a bullet almost directly over the first one, the others knew that it did not just happen.

“Wonderful to be such a shot,” remarked Mr. Wallace. “I suppose it has been the secret of your emerging unharmed from the unknown, hasn’t it?” he said laughing.

“Trying to kid me, are you?” smiled Bob. “Joe and I may be green, but another expedition or two will make us full-fledged explorers. At least we hope so.”

Mr. Wallace grinned.

“That’s what we all think,” he said. “But the fact is, we never do get to be what you call full-fledged explorers. I’ve been on a good many expeditions, but I don’t know much even now. To me it’s interesting that I got my start in scout work. The Boy Scout organization is one of the greatest on the globe.”

“So did we, to a certain extent,” said Bob. “Although the fact that our dads are explorers perhaps accounted for a still earlier interest.”

The youths and the naturalist spent the better part of the afternoon on the rifle range. Then they went to the house, where in Mr. Wallace’s extensive library they read still more about Peru and the Andes.

That evening they spent quietly, for the next day they were to start on the trip to Washington. The naturalist’s friend, with whom they were to drive to the East, was to come after them early the next morning.

And early it was. Too early for the youths and Mr. Wallace, who had barely finished breakfast. But they were packed and ready, and so lost no time in getting their belongings together.

The friend, whose name was Wilson, was a newspaper man, often traveling East in the interest of his profession. He was good-natured and talkative, at once taking a liking to Bob and Joe.

When everything was in readiness, Bob and Joe and the men took their places in Mr. Wilson’s automobile and, with a warm farewell to Mrs. Wallace, started down the driveway.

Soon the youths would be home – and on their way to the mysterious Andes!

CHAPTER VI

The Big Surprise

AS the automobile sped toward the thoroughfare, Bob and Joe settled back for the long ride. Now that they were at last heading for Washington, the boys were becoming impatient, although they had enjoyed the last few days immensely.

Until after they had left Chicago, Mr. Wilson was rather quiet, bending his efforts solely on managing the car. But when the metropolis had disappeared from view, he inquired about his friends’ expedition into the Andes Mountains.

“Perhaps I’m not much of an adventurer, but somehow I wouldn’t care for that sort of a life,” he laughed, after Mr. Wallace had related the outlines of the expedition. “I wouldn’t mind taking a trip to that place – put up at a hotel, or the like. But when it comes to straying off the traveled road, well – ” He stopped meaningly.

Bob laughed.

“It’s a good thing people aren’t all alike,” he said. “If they were, either the wilds or the civilized places would be filled to capacity.”

Although the youths were anxious to reach their destination, they found the drive East interesting, even though they had made it before. Their attention was so held by the many interesting sights that, almost before knowing it, they found themselves in Pittsburgh, after having eaten a lunch several hours before. In the business district they engaged rooms in a small but comfortable hotel.

If Mr. Wilson and the naturalist were tired, the youths were not. They insisted on taking a look at Pittsburgh, which they had not seen for many months. An hour or two of looking around and they would return to the hotel, remarked Bob.

During that time the young men found much to hold their interest. The great fiery blast furnaces, the towering skyscrapers, the crowds of pleasure seekers, and the lights of river boats all kept them gay with amusement.

At last, when they finally made themselves return to the hotel, they found that their friends had gone. Evidently the lure of a great city was too much for them.

“And Mr. Wilson said he was dead tired,” said Joe with a smile.

“They’re no different from us,” said Bob. “Want to keep on the go, I guess.”

Mr. Wallace and his friend did not return until late, much to the amusement of the youths. Both men wore a sheepish look as they caught sight of Bob and Joe.

“Sorry, but we just had to get out,” grinned the newspaper man, walking drowsily through the lobby. “Couldn’t stand it to stay inside.”

“Perhaps you’ll pay the penalty of oversleeping,” laughed Joe, “and we won’t get started until late.”

Joe proved wrong, however, for early the next morning they were up making ready to resume the journey. From Pittsburgh the traveling promised to be slower, owing to the increased traffic and mountainous country. But Mr. Wilson was determined to make good time, and did, reaching York, Pennsylvania, at one o’clock.

Here the youths and the naturalist were to take their leave, while the newspaper man would continue to New York City. Had he not been in a great hurry he would have insisted on driving them on to Washington. As it was, his business prevented his doing so.

With a hearty farewell, the boys and Mr. Wallace left his car and made their way to a railroad station, where they boarded a train for the nation’s capital.

An hour and a half of traveling brought them to Baltimore, and now the youths began to feel that they were in home territory. In this city a delay was inevitable, but at last the train resumed its journey to Washington, which it reached in due time.

Since Mr. Wallace and the boys had not known exactly when they would arrive, they had not expected anyone to meet them at the station. But much to their surprise they found that Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis were waiting for them when they went down from the tracks.

“Boys!” cried Mr. Holton excitedly. “And there’s Wallace, too. How are you, old man?”