THE HAUNTED TEMPLE.
“A haunted temple?” echoed Jimmie. “I thought the haunted temples were a
lot farther south.”
“There are haunted temples all over Peru, if you leave it to the
natives,” answered Sam. “Whenever there is a reason for keeping
strangers away from such ruins as we are about to visit, the ghosts come
forth at night in white robes and wave weird lights above skeleton
faces.”
“Quit it!” cried Carl. “I’ve got the creeps running up and down my back
right now! Bring me my haunted temples by daylight!”
“Yes,” scorned Jimmie, “we’ll bring you a little pet ghost in a
suit-case. That would be about your size!”
“Honest,” grinned the boy, “I’m scared half to death.”
“What’s the specialty of the ghosts who inhabit this ruined temple?”
asked Jimmie. “Can’t you give us some idea of their antics?”
“If I remember correctly,” Sam replied, with a laugh, “the specialty of
the spirits to whom I am about to introduce you consists of low, soft
music. How does that suit?”
“I tell you to quit it!” cried Carl.
“After I prepare the aeroplane for another run,” Sam went on, with a
grin, “I’ll take you around to the temple, if you like.”
“Mother of Moses!” cried Carl. “My hair’s all on end now; and I won’t
dare look into a mirror in the morning for fear I’ll find it turned
white.”
“There’s a strange feeling in my system, too!” Jimmie declared, “but I
think it comes from a lack of sustenance.”
“Jimmie,” declared Carl reproachfully, “I believe you would pick the
pocket of a wailing ghost of a ham sandwich, if he had such a thing
about him!”
“Sure I would!” answered the boy. “What would a ghost want of a ham
sandwich? In those old days the people didn’t eat pork anyway. If you
read the history of those days, you’ll find no mention of the wriggly
little worms which come out of pigs and made trouble for the human
race.”
“Well, if you’re ready now,” Sam broke in, “we’ll take a walk around the
corner of the cliff and see if the ghosts are keeping open house
to-night.”
“You really don’t believe in these ghosts, do you?” asked Jimmie.
“I do not!” was the reply.
“There ain’t no such animal, is there?” asked Carl.
“I have never witnessed any ‘supernatural’ things,” Sam answered, “which
could not be traced eventually to some human agency. Usually to some
interested human agency.”
“Well,” grinned Carl, “if there ain’t any ghosts at this ruined temple,
what’s the use of my going there to see them?”
“You may remain and watch the machine if you care to,” Sam replied.
“While we are supposed to be in a valley rarely frequented by human
kind, it may be just as well to leave some one on guard. For instance,”
the young man went on, “a jaguar might come along and eat up the
motors!”
“Jaguars?” exclaimed Carl. “Are they the leopard-like animals that chase
wild horses off the pampas of Brazil, and devour men whenever they get
particularly hungry?”
“The same!” smiled Sam.
“Then I want to see the ghosts!” exclaimed Carl.
“Come along, then,” advised Sam.
“If you didn’t know Carl right well,” Jimmie explained, as they walked
along, “you’d really think he’d tremble at the sight of a ghost or a
wild animal, but he’s the most reckless little idiot in the whole bunch!
He’ll talk about being afraid, and then he’ll go and do things that any
boy in his right mind ought not to think of doing.”
“I had an idea that that was about the size of it!” smiled Sam.
Presently the party turned the angle of the cliff and came upon a placid
little mountain lake which lay glistening under the moonlight.
“Now, where’s your ruined temple?” asked Carl.
“At the southern end of the lake,” was the reply.
“I see it!” cried Jimmie. “There’s a great white stone that might have
formed part of a tower at one time, and below it is an opening which
looks like an entrance to the New York subway with the lights turned
off.”
The old temple at the head of the lake had frequently been visited by
scientists and many descriptions of it had been written. It stood boldly
out on a headland which extended into the clear waters, and had
evidently at one time been surrounded by gardens.
“I don’t see anything very mysterious about that!” Carl remarked. “It
looks to me as if contractors had torn down a cheap old building in
order to erect a skyscraper on the site, and then been pulled off the
job.”
“Wait until you get to it!” warned Jimmie.
“I’m listening right now for the low, soft music!” laughed Carl.
“Does any one live there?” asked Jimmie in a moment.
“As the place is thought by the natives to be haunted,” Sam answered,
“the probability is that no one has set foot inside the place since the
naturalist and myself explored its ruined corridors several weeks ago.”
The boys passed farther on toward the temple, and at last paused on the
north side of a little arm of the lake which would necessitate a wide
detour to the right.
From the spot where they stood, the walls of the temple glittered as if
at sometime in the distant past they had been ornamented with designs in
silver and gold. The soft wind of the valley sighed through the openings
mournfully, and it required no vigorous exercise of the imagination to
turn the sounds into man-made music.
The boys looked at each other significantly.
“Come on, Jimmie,” Carl shouted. “Let’s go and get a front seat. The
concert is just about to begin!”
“There is no hurry!” Jimmy answered.
While the three stood viewing the scene, one which never passed from
their memory, a tall, stately figure passed out of the entrance to the
old temple and moved with dignified leisure toward the margin of the
lake.
“Now, who’s that?” demanded Carl.
“The names of the characters appear on the program in the order of their
entrance!” suggested Jimmie.
“Honest, boys,” Sam whispered, “I think you fellows deserve a medal
apiece. Instead of being awed and frightened, standing as you do in the
presence of the old temple, and seeing, as you do, the mysterious figure
moving about, one would think you were occupying seats at a minstrel
show!”
“You said yourself,” insisted Jimmie, “that there wasn’t any such thing
as ghosts.”
“That’s right,” exclaimed Carl. “What’s the use of getting scared at
something that doesn’t exist?”
“The only question in my mind at the present time,” Jimmie went on, with
a grin, “is just this: Is that fellow over there carrying a gun?”
While the boys talked in whispers, Sam had been moving slowly to the
west so as to circle the little cove which separated him from the
temple.
In a moment the boys saw him beckoning them to him and pointing toward
the ruins opposite.
The figure which had been before observed was now standing close to the
lip of the lake, waving his hands aloft, as if in adoration or
supplication. This posture lasted only a second and then the figure
disappeared as if by magic.
There were the smooth waters of the lake with the ruined temple for a
background. There were the moonbeams bringing every detail of the scene
into strong relief. Nothing had changed, except that the person who a
moment before had stood in full view had disappeared as if the earth had
opened at his feet.
“Now what do you think of that?” demanded Jimmie.
“Say,” chuckled Carl, “do you think that fellow is custodian of the
temple, and has to do that stunt every night, the same as a watchman in
New York has to turn a key in a clock every hour?”
Jimmie nudged his chum in the ribs in appreciation of the observation,
and then stood silent, his eyes fixed on the broken tower across the
cove.
While he looked a red light burned for an instant at the apex of the old
tower, and in an instant was followed by a blue light farther up on the
cliff. The boys remained silent, wondering.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Carl insisted, in a moment. “Do you
think they pull off this stunt here every night?”
“Oh, keep still!” exclaimed Jimmie. “They don’t have to pull it off
every night. They only put the play on when there’s an audience.”
“An audience?” repeated Carl. “How do they know they’ve got an
audience?”
“Chump!” replied Jimmie scornfully. “Do you think any one can sail an
aeroplane like the _Ann_ over this country without its being seen? Of
course they know they’ve got an audience.”
By this time the boys had advanced to the place where Sam was standing.
They found that young man very much interested in the proceedings, and
also very much inclined to silence.
“Did you see anything like that when you were here before?” asked
Jimmie. “Did they put the same kind of a show on for you?”
Sam shook his head gravely.
“Well, come on!” Carl cried. “Let’s chase around the cove and get those
front seats you spoke about.”
“Wait, boys!” Sam started to say, but before the words were well out of
his mouth the two lads were running helter-skelter along the hard white
beach which circled the western side of the cove.
“Come back!” he called to them softly. “It isn’t safe.”
The boys heard the words but paid no heed, so Sam followed swiftly on in
pursuit. He came up with them only after they had reached the very steps
which had at some distant time formed an imposing entrance to a sacred
temple.
“What are you going to do?” he demanded.
“We’re going inside!” replied Carl. “What do you think we came here for?
I guess we’ve got to see the inside.”
“Don’t take any unnecessary risks!” advised Sam.
“What’d you bring us here for?” asked Carl.
“Oh, come on!” exclaimed Jimmie. “Let’s all go in together!”
Sam hesitated, but the boys seized him by the arms and almost forced him
along. In a moment, however, he was as eager as the others.
“Do you mean to say,” asked Jimmie, as they paused for a moment on a
broad stone slab which lay before the portal of the ruined temple, “that
you went inside on your former visit?”
“I certainly did!” was the reply.
“Then why are you backing up now?” asked Carl.
“On my previous visit,” Sam explained, standing with his back against
the western wall of the entrance, “there were no such demonstrations as
we have seen to-night. Now think that over, kiddies, and tell me what it
means. It’s mighty puzzling to me!”
“Oh, we’ve got the answer to that!” exclaimed Jimmie. “Did you come here
in an aeroplane, or did you walk in?”
“We came in on an aeroplane, early in the morning,” was the reply.
“That’s the answer!” exclaimed Jimmie. “The people who are operating
these ghost stunts did not know you were coming because they saw no
lights in the sky. Now we came down with a noise like an express train
and a great big acetylene lamp burning full blast. Don’t you see?”
“That’s the idea!” Carl cried. “The actors and stage hands all
disappeared as soon as you showed around the angle of the cliff.”
“But why should they go through what you call their stunts at this time,
and not on the occasion of my former visit?” asked Sam.
“I’ll tell you,” replied Jimmie wrinkling his freckled nose, “there’s
some one who is interested in the case which called us to Peru doing
those stunts.”
“In that case,” Sam declared, “they have a definite reason for keeping
us out of this particular ruin!”
“That’s the idea!” exclaimed Jimmie. “So far as we know, this man
Redfern or some of his associates may be masquerading as ghosts.”
“I came to this temple to-night,” explained Sam, “thinking that perhaps
this might be one of the way stations on the road to Lake Titicaca.”
“You have guessed it!” exclaimed Jimmie. “The men who have been sent
south to warn Redfern are doing their first stunts here!”
“And that,” said Sam, “makes our position a dangerous one!”