PLANNING A MIDNIGHT RIDE.
“If the people of the country believe there is gold in the temples said
to be haunted,” Glenn asked, “why don’t they hunt for it themselves,
without waiting for others to come down and give them a tip?”
“Generally speaking,” replied Bixby, “every ruin in Peru has been
searched time and again by natives. Millions of treasure has been found,
but there is still the notion, which seems to have been born into every
native of South America, that untold stores of gold, silver and precious
stones are still concealed in the ruined temples.”
“What I can’t understand is this,” Glenn declared. “Why should these
natives, having every facility for investigation, follow the lead of
strangers who come here mostly for pleasure?”
“I can’t understand that part of it myself,” Bixby replied, “except on
the theory that the natives ascribe supernatural powers to foreigners.
Even the most intelligent natives who do not believe in the magic of
Europeans, watch them closely when they visit ruins, doubtless on the
theory that in some way the visitors have become posted as to the
location of treasure.”
“Well,” Ben observed, “they can’t make much trouble for us, because we
can light down on a temple, run through it before the natives can get
within speaking distance, and fly away again.”
“All the same,” Bixby insisted, “I wouldn’t talk very much about
visiting ruins of any kind. And here’s another thing,” he went on,
“there are stories afloat in Peru that fugitives from justice sometimes
hide in these ruins. And so, you see,” he added with a laugh, “you are
likely to place yourself in bad company in the minds of the natives by
being too inquisitive about the methods of the ancient Incas.”
“All right,” Glenn finally promised, “we’ll be careful about mentioning
ruins in the future.”
After dinner the boys went to Bixby’s place of business and ordered
gasoline enough to fill the tanks. They also ordered an extra supply of
gasoline, which was to be stored in an auxiliary container of rubber
made for that purpose.
“Now about tents and provisions?” asked Bixby.
“Confound those savages!” exclaimed Jimmie. “We carried those oiled-silk
shelter-tents safely through two long journeys in the mountains of
California and Mexico, and now we have to turn them over to a lot of
savages in Ecuador! I believe we could have frightened the brutes away
by doing a little shooting! Anyway, I wish we’d tried it!”
“Not for mine!” exclaimed Carl. “I don’t want to go through the country
killing people, even if they are South American savages.”
“I may be able to get you a supply of oiled-silk in Quito,” Bixby
suggested, “but I am not certain. It is very expensive, you understand,
of course, and rather scarce.”
“The expense is all right,” replied Glenn, “but we felt a sort of
sentimental attachment for those old shelter-tents. We can get all the
provisions we need here, of course?” he added.
“Certainly,” was the reply.
“Look here!” Jimmie cut in. “What time will there be a moon to-night?”
“Probably about one o’clock,” was the reply. “By that time, however, you
ought all to be sound asleep in your beds.”
“What’s the idea, Jimmie?” asked Carl.
The boys all saw by the quickening expressions in the two boys’ faces
that they had arrived at an understanding as to the importance of
moonlight on that particular night.
“Why, I thought—” began Jimmie. “I just thought it might not do any harm
to run back to that peaceful little glade to see if the tents really
have been removed or destroyed!”
“Impossible!” advised Bixby. “The tents may remain just where you left
them, but, even if they are there, you may have no chance of securing
them. It is a risky proposition!”
“What do you mean?” asked Ben.
“I mean that the superstition of the savages may restrain them from
laying hands on the tents and provisions you left,” replied Bixby, “but,
at the same time,” he continued, “they may watch the old camp for days
in the hope of your return.”
“What’s the idea?” asked Glenn.
“Do they want to eat us?” asked Jimmie.
“Some of the wild tribes living near the head waters of the Amazon,”
Bixby explained, “are crazy over the capture of white men. They are said
to march them back to their own country in state, and to inaugurate long
festivals in honor of the victory. And during the entire festival,”
Bixby went on, “the white prisoners are subjected to tortures of the
most brutal description!”
“Say,” giggled Jimmie, giving Carl a dig in the ribs with his elbow,
“let’s take the train for Guayaquil to-morrow morning! I don’t think
it’s right for us to take chances on the savages having all the fun!”
“As between taking the first train for Guayaquil and taking a trip
through the air to the old camp to-night,” Bixby laughed, “I certainly
advise in favor of the former.”
“Aw, that’s all talk,” Ben explained, as Bixby, after promising to look
about in the morning for oiled-silk and provisions, locked his place of
business and started toward the hotel with the boys.
“What do you say to it, Carl?” Jimmie asked, as the two fell in behind
the others.
“I’m game!” replied Carl.
“Then I’ll tell you what we’ll do!” Jimmie explained. “You and I will
get a room together and remain up until moonrise. If the sky is clear of
clouds at that time, and promises to remain so until morning, we’ll load
ourselves down with all the guns we can get hold of and fly out to the
old camp. It’ll be a fine ride, anyway!”
“Pretty chilly, though, in high altitudes at this time of night,”
suggested Carl. “I’m most frozen now!”
“So’m I,” Jimmie replied, “and I’ll tell you what we’ll do! When we
start away we’ll swipe blankets off the bed. I guess they’ll keep us
warm.”
“Well, we’ll have to keep Glenn and Ben from knowing anything about the
old trip,” Carl suggested. “Of course they couldn’t prevent us going,
but they’d put up a kick that would make it unpleasant.”
“Indeed they would!” answered Jimmie. “But, at the same time, they’d go
themselves if they’d got hold of the idea first. I suggested it, you
know, and that’s one reason why they would reject it.”
Arrived at the hotel, Jimmie and Carl had no difficulty in getting a
double room, although their chums looked rather suspiciously at them as
they all entered the elevator.
“Now,” said Ben, “don’t you boys get into any mischief to-night. Quito
isn’t a town for foreigners to explore during the dark hours!”
“I’m too sleepy to think of any midnight adventures!” cried Jimmie with
a wink and a yawn.
“Me, too!” declared Carl. “I’ll be asleep in about two minutes!”
It was about ten o’clock when the boys found themselves alone in a large
room which faced one of the leading thoroughfares of the capital city.
Quito is well lighted by electricity, and nearly all the conveniences of
a city of the same size in the United States are there to be had.
The street below the room occupied by the two boys was brilliantly
lighted until midnight, and the lads sat at a window looking out on the
strange and to them unusual scene. When the lights which flashed from
business signs and private offices were extinguished, the thoroughfare
grew darker, and then the boys began seriously to plan their proposed
excursion.
“What we want to do,” Jimmie suggested, “is to get out of the hotel
without being discovered and make our way to a back street where a cab
can be ordered. It is a mile to the field where the machines were left,
and we don’t want to lose any time.”
Before leaving the room the boys saw that their automatic revolvers and
searchlights were in good order. They also made neat packages of the
woolen blankets which they found on the bed and carried them away.
“Now,” said Jimmie as they reached a side street and passed swiftly
along in the shadow of a row of tall buildings, “we’ve got to get into a
cab without attracting any attention, for we’ve stolen the hotel’s
blankets, and we can’t talk Spanish, and if a cop should seize us we’d
have a good many explanations to make.”
“I don’t think it’s good sense to take the blankets,” Carl objected.
“Aw, you’ll think so when we get a couple of thousand feet up in the air
on the _Louise_!” laughed Jimmie.
After walking perhaps ten minutes, the boys came upon a creaking old cab
drawn by a couple of the sorriest-looking horses they had ever seen. The
driver, who sat half asleep on the seat, jumped down to the pavement and
eyed the boys suspiciously as they requested to be taken out to where
the machines had been left.
The lads were expecting a long tussle between the English and the
Spanish languages, but the cabman surprised them by answering their
request in excellent English.
“So?” exclaimed Jimmie. “You talk United States, too, do you? Where did
you come from?”
“You want to go out to the machines, do you?” asked the cabman, without
appearing to notice the question.
“That’s where we want to go!” replied Carl.
“What for?” asked the cabman.
“None of your business!” replied Jimmie.
“I’ve been out there once to-night!” said the cabman, “and the party I
drew beat me out of my fare.”
“That’s got nothing to do with us!” replied Carl.
“It’ll cost you ten dollars!” growled the cabman.
“Say, look here!” Jimmie exclaimed. “You’re a bigger robber than the New
York cabmen! It’s only a mile to the field, and we’ll walk just to show
you that we don’t have to use your rickety old cab.”
With a snarl and a frown the cabman climbed back up on his seat and gave
every appearance of dropping into sound slumber.
“Now what do you think of that for a thief?” asked Carl, as the boys
hastened away toward the field. “I’d walk ten miles before I’d give that
fellow a quarter!”
“We’ve got plenty of time,” Jimmie answered. “The moon won’t be up for
an hour yet. Perhaps we’d better walk up anyway, for then we can enter
the field quietly and see what’s going on.”
On the way out the lads met several parties returning from the field,
and when they reached the opening in the fence they saw that many
curious persons were still present. There were at least half a dozen
vehicles of different kinds gathered close about the roped-off circle.
“Say,” Carl exclaimed as the boys passed into the field, “look at that
old rattletrap on the right. Isn’t that the same vehicle the cabman
pretended to go asleep on as we came away?”
“Sure it is!” answered Jimmie. “I don’t remember the appearance of the
cab so well, but I know just how the horses looked.”
“He must have found a ten-dollar fare out here!” Carl suggested.
“Yes, and he must have come out by a roundabout way in order to prevent
our seeing him. Now what do you think he did that for? Why should he
care whether we see him or not?”
As the boy asked the question the rig which they had been discussing was
driven slowly away, not in the direction of the road, but toward the
back end of the field.
“Something mighty funny going on here!” Jimmie declared. “I guess it’s a
good thing we came out.”
When the boys came up to where the machines were lying, Doran was the
first one to approach.
“Little nervous about your machines, eh?” he asked.
“Rather,” replied Jimmie. “We came out with the idea of taking a short
trip to see if they still are in working order.”
“Well,” Doran said with a scowl, “of course you know that you can’t take
the machines out without an order from Mr. Bixby!”