The Flying Machine Boys in the Wilds

The moonlight, filtering through the broken roof, disclosed a depression in the floor in a back corner. This, Sam reasoned, had undoubtedly held the waters of the fountain hundreds of years before. Directly across from the doorway in which he stood he saw another break in the wall.

On a previous visit this opening, which had once been a doorway, had been entirely unobstructed. Now a wall of granite blocks lay in the interior of the apartment, just inside the opening. It seemed to the young man from where he stood that there might still be means of entrance by passing between this newly-built wall and the inner surface of the chamber.

Thinking that he would investigate the matter more fully in the future, Sam turned back to where the boys were standing, still commenting on the prepared food lying on the table. As he turned back a low, heavy grumble agitated the air of the apartment.

The boys turned quickly, and the three stood not far from the opening in listening attitudes. The sound increased in volume as the moments passed. At first it seemed like the heavy vibrations of throat cords, either human or animal. Then it lifted into something like a shrill appeal, which resembled nothing so much as the scream of a woman in deadly peril. Involuntarily the boys stepped closer to the corridor.

“What do you make of it?” whispered Jimmie.

“Ghosts!” chuckled Carl.

“Some day,” Jimmie suggested, in a graver tone than usual, “you’ll be punished for your verbal treatment of ghosts! I don’t believe there’s anything on the face of the earth you won’t make fun of. How do we know that spirits don’t come back to earth?”

“They may, for all I know,” replied Carl. “I’m not trying to decide the question, or to make light of it, either, but when I see the lot of cheap imitations like we’ve been put against to-night, I just have to express my opinion.”

“They’re cheap imitations, all right!” decided Jimmie.

“Cheap?” repeated Carl. “Flowing robes, and disappearing figures, and mysterious lights, and weird sounds! Why, a fellow couldn’t work off such manifestations as we’ve seen to-night on the most superstitious residents of the lower West Side in the City of New York, and they’ll stand for almost anything!”

“It strikes me,” Sam, who had been listening to the conversation with an amused smile, declared, “that the sounds we are listening to now may hardly be classified as wailing!”

“Now, listen,” Carl suggested, “and we’ll see if we can analyze it.”

At that moment the sound ceased.

The place seemed more silent than before because of the sudden cessation.

“It doesn’t want to be analyzed!” chuckled Carl.

“Come on,” Jimmie urged, “let’s go and see what made it!”

“I think you’ll have to find out where it came from first!” said Carl.

“It came from the opening across the second apartment,” explained Sam. “I had little difficulty in locating it.”

“That doesn’t look to me like much of an opening,” argued Carl.

“The stones you see,” explained Sam, “are not laid in the entrance from side to side. They are built up back of the entrance, and my idea is that there must be a passage-way between them and the interior walls of the room. That wall, by the way, has been constructed since my previous visit. So you see,” he added, turning to Carl, “the ghosts in this neck of the woods build walls as well as make baking powder biscuits.”

“Well, that’s a funny place to build a wall!” Carl asserted.

“Perhaps the builders don’t like the idea of their red and blue lights and ghostly apparatus being exposed to the gaze of the vulgar public,” suggested Jimmie. “That room is probably the apartment behind the scenes where the thunder comes from, and where some poor fellow of a supe is set to holding up the moon!”

“Well, why don’t we go and find out about it?” urged Carl.

“Wait until I take a look on the outside,” Sam requested. “The man in the long white robe may be rising out of the lake by this time. I don’t know,” he continued, “but that we have done a foolish thing in remaining here as we have, leaving the aeroplane unguarded.”

“Perhaps I’d better run around the cliff and see if it’s all right!” suggested Carl. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“No,” Sam argued, “you two remain here at the main entrance and I’ll go and see about the machine. Perhaps,” he warned, “you’d better remain right here, and not attempt to investigate that closed apartment until I return. I shan’t be gone very long.”

“Oh, of course,” replied Jimmie, “we’ll be good little boys and stand right here and wait for you to come back—not!”

Carl chuckled as the two watched the young man disappear around the angle of the cliff.

“Before he gets back,” the boy said, “we’ll know all about that room, won’t we? Say,” he went on in a moment, “I think this haunted temple business is about the biggest fraud that was ever staged. If people only knew enough to spot an impostor when they saw one, there wouldn’t be prisons enough in the world to hold the rascals.”

“You tell that to Sam to-night,” laughed Jimmie. “He likes these moralizing stunts. Are you going in right now?”

By way of reply Carl stepped into the arch between the two walls and turned to the right into a passage barely more than a foot in width. Jimmie followed his example, but turned to the left. There the way was blocked by a granite boulder which reached from the floor to the roof itself.

“Nothing doing here!” he called back to Carl.

“I’ve found the way!” the latter answered. “Come along in! We’ll be behind the scenes in about a minute.”

The passage was not more than a couple of yards in length and gave on an open chamber which seemed, under the light of the electrics, to be somewhat larger than the one where the conveniences of living had been found. The faint illumination produced by the flashlights, of course revealed only a small portion of it at a time.

While the boys stood at the end of the narrow passage, studying the interior as best they might under the circumstances, a sound which came like the fall of a heavy footstep in the corridor outside reached their ears.

“There’s Sam!” Carl exclaimed. “We’ll leave him at the entrance and go in. There’s a strange smell here, eh?”

“Smells like a wild animal show!” declared Jimmie.

Other footsteps were now heard in the corridor, and Jimmie turned back to speak with Sam. Carl caught him by the shoulders.

“That’s Sam all right enough!” the latter exclaimed. “Don’t go away right now, anyhow.”

“What’s doing?” asked Jimmie.

“There’s a light back there!” was the reply, “and some one is moving around. Can’t you hear the footsteps on the hard stone floor?”

“Mighty soft footsteps!” suggested Jimmie.

“Well, I’m going to know exactly what they are!” declared Carl.

“Well, why don’t you go on, then?” demanded Jimmie.

The two boys stepped forward, walking in the shaft of light proceeding from their electrics. Once entirely clear of the passage, they kept straight ahead along the wall and turned the lights toward the center of the apartment, which seemed darker and drearier than the one recently visited.

Besides the smell of mold and a confined atmosphere there was an odor which dimly brought back to the minds of the boys previous visits to the homes of captive animals at the Central Park zoo.

“Here!” cried Jimmie directly, “there’s a door just closed behind us!”

CHAPTER XIV.

THE INDIANS HELP SOME!

When Sam Weller turned the corner of the cliff and looked out at the spot where the Ann had been left, his first impression was that the machine had been removed from the valley.

He stood for a moment in uncertainty and then, regretting sincerely that he had remained so long away, cautiously moved along, keeping as close as possible to the wall of the cliff. In a moment he saw the planes of the Ann glistening in the moonlight at least a hundred yards from the place where she had been left.

Realizing the presence of hostile interests, he walked on toward the planes, hoping to be able to get within striking distance before being discovered. There was no one in sight in the immediate vicinity of the Ann, and yet she was certainly moving slowly over the ground.

The inference the young man drew from this was that persons unfamiliar with flying machines had invaded the valley during his absence. Not being able to get the machine into the air, they were, apparently, so far as he could see, rolling it away on its rubber-tired wheels. The progress was not rapid, but was directed toward a thicket which lay at the west end of the valley.

“That means,” the young man mused, “that they’re trying to steal the machine! It is evident,” he went on, “that they are apprehensive of discovery, for they manage to keep themselves out of sight.”

Realizing that it would be impossible for him to pass through the open moonlight without being observed by those responsible for the erratic motions of the Ann, the young man remained standing perfectly still in a deep shadow against the face of the cliff.

The Ann moved on toward the thicket, and presently reached the shelter of trees growing there. In a moment she was entirely hidden from view.

“Now,” thought Sam, “the people who have been kind enough to change the position of the machine will doubtless show themselves in the moonlight.”

In this supposition he was not mistaken, for in a moment two men dressed in European garments emerged from the shadows of the grove and took their way across the valley, walking through the moonlight boldly and with no pretense of concealment.

Sam scrutinized the fellows carefully, but could not remember that he had ever seen either of them before. They were dusky, supple chaps, evidently of Spanish descent. As they walked they talked together in English, and occasionally pointed to the angle of the cliff around which the young man had recently passed.

A chattering of excited voices at the edge of the grove now called Sam’s attention in that direction, and he saw at least half a dozen figures, apparently those of native Indians, squatting on the ground at the very edge of the thicket.

“And now,” mused Sam, as the men stopped not far away and entered into what seemed to him to be an excited argument, “I’d like to know how these people learned of the revival of the hunt for Redfern! It isn’t so very many days since Havens’ expedition was planned in New York, and this valley is a good many hundred miles away from that merry old town.”

Entirely at a loss to account for the manner in which information of this new phase of the search had reached a point in the wilds of Peru almost as soon as the record-breaking aeroplane could have carried the news, the young man gave up the problem for the time being and devoted his entire attention to the two men in European dress.

“I tell you they are in the temple,” one of the men said speaking in a corrupt dialect of the English language which it is useless to attempt to reproduce. “They are in the temple at this minute!”

“Don’t be too sure of that, Felix!” the other said.

“And what is more,” the man who had been called Felix went on, “they will never leave the temple alive!”

“And so fails the great expedition!” chuckled the second speaker.

“When we are certain that what must be has actually taken place,” Felix went on, “I’ll hide the flying machine in a safer place, pay you as agreed, and make my way back to Quito. Does that satisfy you?”

“I shall be satisfied when I have the feeling of the gold of the Gringoes!” was the reply.

Sam caught his breath sharply as he listened to the conversation.

“There was some trap in the temple, then,” he mused, “designed to get us out of the way. I should have known that,” he went on, bitterly, “and should never have left the boys alone there!”

The two men advanced nearer to the angle of the cliff and seemed to be waiting the approach of some one from the other side.

“And Miguel?” asked Felix. “Why is he not here?”

“Can you trust him?” he added, in a moment.

“With my own life!”

“The Gringoes are clever!” warned Felix.

“But see!” exclaimed the other. “The grated door! The hosts ready to welcome! There surely can be no mistake.”

The men lapsed into silence and stood listening. Sam began to hope that their plans had indeed gone wrong.

For a moment he was uncertain as to what he ought to do. He believed that in the absence of the two leaders he might be able to get the Ann into the air and so bring assistance to the boys. And yet, he could not put aside the impression that immediate assistance was the only sort which could ever be of any benefit to the two lads!

“If they are in some trap in the temple,” he soliloquized, “the thing to do is to get to them as soon as possible, even if we do lose the machine, which, after all, is not certain.”

“The flying machine,” the man who had been called Felix was now heard to say, “is of great value. It would bring a fortune in London.”

“But how are you to get it out of this district just at this time?” asked the other. “How to get it out without discovery?”

“Fly it out!”

“Can you fly it out?” asked the other in a sarcastic tone.

“There are plenty who can!” replied Felix, somewhat angrily. “But it is not to be taken out at present,” he went on. “To lift it in the air now would be to notify every Gringo from Quito to Lima that the prize machine of the New York Millionaire, having been stolen, is in this part of the country.”

“That is very true,” replied the other.

“Hence, I have hidden it,” Felix went on.

“And the savages? Are they safe?” was the next question.

“As safe as such people usually are!” was the answer.

As Sam Weller listened, his mind was busily considering one expedient after another, plan after plan, which presented the least particle of hope for the release of the boys. From the conversation he had overheard he understood that the machine would not be removed for a number of days—until, in fact, the hue and cry over its loss had died out.

This, at least, lightened the difficulties to some extent. He could devote his entire attention to the situation at the temple without thought of the valuable aeroplane, but how to get to the temple with those two ruffians in the way! Only for the savage associates in the background, it is probable that he would have opened fire on the two schemers.

They were deliberately planning murder. That was a sufficient reason, to his mind, to bring about decisive action on his part. However, the savages were there, just at the edge of the forest, and an attack on the two leaders would undoubtedly bring them into action. Of course it was not advisable for him to undertake a contest involving life and death with such odds against him.

The two men were still standing at the angle of the cliff.

Only for the brilliant moonlight, Sam believed that he might elude their vigilance and so make his way to the temple. But there was not a cloud in the sky, and the illumination seemed to grow stronger every moment as the moon passed over to the west.

At last the very thing the young man had hoped for in vain took place. A jumble of excited voices came from the thicket, and the men who were watching turned instantly in that direction. As they looked, the sound of blows and cries of pain came from the jungle.

“Those brutes will be eating each other alive next!” exclaimed Felix.

“That is so!” answered the other. “I warned you!”

“Suppose you go back and see what’s wrong?” suggested Felix.

“I have no influence over the savages,” was the reply, “and besides, the temple must be watched.”

With an exclamation of anger Felix started away in the direction of the forest. It was evident that he had his work cut out for him there, for the savages were fighting desperately, and his approach did not appear to terminate the engagement.

The man left at the angle of the cliff to watch and wait for news from the temple moved farther around the bend and stood leaning against the cliff, listening. Sam moved softly up behind him. The rattling of a pebble betrayed the young man’s presence, and his hands upon the throat of the other alone prevented an outcry which would have brought Felix, and perhaps several of the savages, to the scene.

It was a desperate, wordless, almost noiseless, struggle that ensued. The young man’s muscles, thanks to months of mountain exercise and freedom from stimulants and narcotics, were hard as iron, while those of his opponent seemed flabby and out of condition, doubtless because of too soft living in the immediate past.

The contest, therefore, was not of long duration. Realizing that he was about to lapse into unconsciousness, Sam’s opponent threw out his hands in token of surrender. The young man deftly searched the fellow’s person for weapons and then drew him to his feet.

“Now,” he said, presenting his automatic to the fellow’s breast, “if you utter a word or signal calculated to bring you help, that help will come too late, even if it is only one instant away. At the first sound or indication of resistance, I’ll put half a clip of bullets through your heart!”

“You have the victory!” exclaimed the other sullenly.

“Move along toward the temple!” demanded Sam.

“It is not for me to go there!” was the reply.

“And I’ll walk along behind you,” Sam went on, “and see that you have a ballast of bullets if any treachery is attempted.”

“It is forbidden me to go to the temple to-night,” the other answered, “but, under the circumstances, I go!”

Fearful that Felix might return at any moment, or that the savages, enraged beyond control, might break away in the direction of the temple, Sam pushed the fellow along as rapidly as possible, and the two soon came to the great entrance of that which, centuries before, had been a sacred edifice. The fellow shuddered as he stepped into the musty interior.

“It is not for me to enter!” he said.

“And now,” Sam began, motioning his captive toward the chamber where the bunks and provisions had been discovered, “tell me about this trap which was set to-night for my chums.”

“I know nothing!” was the answer.

“That is false,” replied Sam. “I overheard the conversation you had with Felix before the outbreak of the savages.”

“I know nothing!” insisted the other.

“Now, let me tell you this,” Sam said, flashing his automatic back and forth under the shaft of light which now fell almost directly upon the two, “my friends may be in deadly peril at this time. It may be that one instant’s hesitation on your part will bring them to death.”

The fellow shrugged his shoulders impudently and threw out his hands. Sam saw that he was watching the great entrance carefully, and became suspicious that some indication of the approach of Felix had been observed.

“I have no time to waste in arguments,” Sam went on excitedly. “The trap you have set for my friends may be taking their lives at this moment. I will give you thirty seconds in which to reveal to me their whereabouts, and to inform me as to the correct course to take in order to protect them.”

The fellow started back and fixed his eyes again on the entrance, and Sam, following his example, saw something which sent the blood rushing to his heart.

Outlined on the white stone was the shadow of a human being!

Although not in sight, either an enemy or a friend was at hand!

CHAPTER XV.

A QUESTION OF MARKSMANSHIP

“Door?” repeated Carl, in reply to his chum’s exclamation. “There’s no door here!”

“But there is!” insisted Jimmie. “I heard the rattle of iron against granite only a moment ago!”

As the boy spoke he turned his flashlight back to the narrow passage and then, catching his chum by the arm, pointed with a hand which was not altogether steady to an iron grating which had swung or dropped from some point unknown into a position which effectually barred their return to the outer air! The bars of the gate, for it was little else, were not brown and rusty but bright and apparently new.

“That’s a new feature of the establishment,” Jimmie asserted. “That gate hasn’t been long exposed to this damp air!”

“I don’t care how long it hasn’t been here!” Carl said, rather crossly. “What I want to know is how long is it going to remain there?”

“I hope it will let us out before dinner time,” suggested Jimmie.

“Away, you and your appetite!” exclaimed Carl. “I suppose you think this is some sort of a joke. You make me tired!”

“And the fact that we couldn’t get out if we wanted to,” Jimmie grinned, “makes me hungry!”

“Cut it out!” cried Carl. “The thing for us to do now is to find some way of getting by that man-made obstruction.”

“Man-made is all right!” agreed Jimmie. “It is perfectly clear, now, isn’t it, that the supernatural had nothing to do with the demonstrations we have seen here!”

“I thought you understood that before!” cried Carl, impatiently.

Jimmie, who stood nearest to the gate, now laid a hand upon one of the upright bars and brought his whole strength to bear. The obstruction rattled slightly but remained firm.

“Can’t move it!” the boy said. “We may have to tear the wall down!”

“And the man who swung the gate into position?” questioned Carl. “What do you think he’ll be doing while we’re pulling down that heap of stones? You’ve got to think of something better than that, my son!”

“Anyway,” Jimmie said, hopefully, “Sam is on the outside, and he’ll soon find out that we’ve been caught in a trap.”

“I don’t want to pose as a prophet of evil, or anything like that,” Carl went on, “but it’s just possible that he may have been caught in a trap, too. Anyway, it’s up to us to go ahead and get out, if we can, without any reference to assistance from the outside.”

“Go ahead, then!” Jimmie exclaimed. “I’m in with anything you propose!”

The boys now exerted their united strength on the bars of the gate, but all to no purpose. So far as they could determine, the iron contrivance had been dropped down from above into grooves in the stone-work on either side. The bars were an inch or more in thickness, and firmly enclosed in parallel beams of small size which crossed them at regular intervals.

Seeing the condition of affairs, Jimmie suggested:

“Perhaps we can push it up!”

“Anything is worth trying!” replied Carl.

But the gate was too firmly in place to be moved, even a fraction of an inch, by their joint efforts.

“Now, see here,” Jimmie said, after a short and almost painful silence, “there’s no knowing how long we may be held in this confounded old dungeon. We’ll need light as long as we’re here, so I suggest that we use only one flashlight at a time.”

“That will help some!” answered Carl, extinguishing his electric.

Jimmie threw his light along the walls of the chamber and over the floor. There appeared to be no break of any kind in the white marble which shut in the apartment, except at one point in a distant corner, where a slab had been removed.

“Perhaps,” suggested Carl, “the hole in the corner is exactly the thing we’re looking for.”

“It strikes me,” said Jimmie, “that one of us saw a light in that corner not long ago. I don’t remember whether you called my attention to it, or whether I saw it first, but I remember that we talked about a light in the apartment as we looked in.”

“Perhaps we’d better watch the hole a few minutes before moving over to it,” suggested Carl. “The place it leads to may hold a group of savages, or a couple of renegades, sent on here to make trouble for casual visitors.”

“Casual visitors!” repeated Jimmie. “That doesn’t go with me! You know, and I know, that this stage was set for our personal benefit! How the Redfern bunch got the men in here so quickly, or how they got the information into this topsy-turvy old country, is another question.”

“I presume you are right,” Carl agreed. “In some particulars,” the boy went on, “this seems to me to be a situation somewhat similar to our experiences in the California mountains.”

“Right you are!” cried Jimmie.

The circle of light from the electric illuminated the corner where the break in the wall had been observed only faintly. Determined to discover everything possible regarding what might be an exit from the apartment, Jimmie kept his light fixed steadily on that corner.