THE MYSTERY OF THE ANDES.
The _Louise_ and the _Bertha_ left the field near Quito amid the shouts
of a vast crowd which gathered in the early part of the day. As the
aeroplanes sailed majestically into the air, Mr. Havens saw Mellen
sitting in a motor-car waving a white handkerchief in farewell.
The millionaire and Ben rode in the _Louise_, while Glenn followed in
the _Bertha_. For a few moments the clatter of the motors precluded
conversation, then the aviator slowed down a trifle and asked his
companion:
“Was anything seen of Doran to-day?”
Ben shook his head.
“I half believe,” Mr. Havens continued, “that the code despatches were
stolen by him last night from the hotel, copied, and the copies sent out
to the field to be delivered to some one of the conspirators.”
“But no one could translate them,” suggested Ben.
“I’m not so sure of that,” was the reply. “The code is by no means a new
one. I have often reproached myself for not changing it after Redfern
disappeared with the money.”
“If it’s the same code you used then,” Ben argued, “you may be sure
there is some one of the conspirators who can do the translating. Why,”
he went on, “there must be. They wouldn’t have stolen code despatches
unless they knew how to read them.”
“In that case,” smiled Mr. Havens grimly, “they have actually secured
the information they desire from the men they are fighting.”
“Were the messages important?” asked Ben.
“Duplicates of papers contained in deposit box A,” was the answer.
“What can they learn from them?”
“The route mapped out for our journey south!” was the reply. “Including
the names of places where Redfern may be in hiding.”
“And so they’ll be apt to guard all those points?” asked Ben.
As the reader will understand, one point, that at the ruined temple, had
been very well guarded indeed!
“Yes,” replied the millionaire. “They are likely to look out for us at
all the places mentioned in the code despatches.”
Ben gave a low whistle of dismay, and directly the motors were pushing
the machine forward at the rate of fifty or more miles an hour.
The aviators stopped on a level plateau about the middle of the
afternoon to prepare dinner, and then swept on again. At nightfall, they
were in the vicinity of a summit which lifted like a cone from a
circular shelf of rock which almost completely surrounded it.
The millionaire aviator encircled the peak and finally decided that a
landing might be made with safety. He dropped the _Louise_ down very
slowly and was gratified to find that there would be little difficulty
in finding a resting-place below. As soon as he landed he turned his
eyes toward the _Bertha_, still circling above.
The machine seemed to be coming steadily toward the shelf, but as he
looked the great planes wavered and tipped, and when the aeroplane
actually landed it was with a crash which threw Glenn from his seat and
brought about a great rattling of machinery.
Glenn arose from the rock wiping blood from his face.
“I’m afraid that’s the end of the _Bertha_!” he exclaimed.
“I hope not,” replied Ben. “I think a lot of that old machine.”
Mr. Havens, after learning that Glenn’s injuries were not serious,
hastened over to the aeroplane and began a careful examination of the
motors.
“I think,” he said in a serious tone, “that the threads on one of the
turn-buckles on one of the guy wires stripped so as to render the planes
unmanageable.”
“They were unmanageable, all right!” Glenn said, rubbing the sore spots
on his knees.
“Can we fix it right here?” Ben asked.
“That depends on whether we have a supply of turn-buckles,” replied
Havens. “They certainly ought to be in stock somewhere.”
“Glory be!” cried Glenn. “We sure have plenty of turn-buckles!”
“Get one out, then,” the millionaire directed, “and we’ll see what we
can do with it.”
The boys hunted everywhere in the tool boxes of both machines without
finding what they sought.
“I know where they are!” said Glenn glumly in a moment.
“Then get one out!” advised Ben.
“They’re on the _Ann_!” explained Glenn. “If you remember we put the
spark plugs and a few other things of that sort on the _Louise_ and put
the turn-buckles on the _Ann_.”
“Now, you wait a minute,” Mr. Havens advised. “Perhaps I can use the old
turn-buckle on the sharp threads of the _Louise_ and put the one which
belongs there in the place of this worn one. Sometimes a transfer of
that kind can be made to work in emergencies.”
“That’ll be fine!” exclaimed Ben. “I remember seeing that tried myself.
I’ll hold the light while you take the buckle off the _Louise_.”
Ben turned his flashlight on the guy wires and the aviator began turning
the buckle. The wires were very taut, and when the last thread was
reached one of them sprang away so violently that the turn-buckle was
knocked from his hand. The next moment they heard it rattling in the
gorge below.
Mr. Havens sat flat down on the shelf of rocks and looked at the parted
wires hopelessly. The boys had nothing to say.
“Well,” the millionaire said presently, “I guess we’re in for a good
long cold night up in the sky.”
“Did you ever see such rotten luck?” demanded Glenn.
“Cheer up!” cried Ben. “We’ll find some way out of it.”
“Have you got any fish-lines, boys?” asked the aviator.
“You bet I have!” replied Ben. “You wouldn’t catch me off on a
flying-machine trip without a fish-line. We’re going to have some fish
before we get off the Andes.”
“Well,” said Mr. Havens, “pass it over and I’ll see if I can fasten
these wires together with strong cord and tighten them up with a
twister.”
“Why not?” asked Ben.
“I’ve seen things of that kind done often enough!” declared Glenn.
“And, besides,” Glenn added, “we may be able to use the worn turn-buckle
on the _Louise_ and go after repairs, leaving the _Bertha_ here.”
“I don’t like to do that!” objected the millionaire aviator. “I believe
we can arrange to take both machines out with us.”
But it was not such an easy matter fastening the cords and arranging the
twister as had been anticipated. They all worked over the problem for an
hour or more without finding any method of preventing the fish-line from
breaking when the twister was applied. When drawn so tight that it was
impossible to slip, the eyes showed a disposition to cut the strands.
At last they decided that it would be unsafe to use the _Bertha_ in that
condition and turned to the _Louise_ with the worn turn-buckle.
To their dismay they found that the threads were worn so that it would
be unsafe to trust themselves in the air with any temporary expedient
which might be used to strengthen the connection.
“This brings us back to the old proposition of a night under the
clouds!” the millionaire said.
“Or above the clouds,” Ben added, “if this fog keeps coming.”
Leaving the millionaire still studying over the needed repairs, Ben and
his chum followed the circular cliff for some distance until they came
to the east side of the cone. They stood looking over the landscape for
a moment and then turned back to the machines silently and with grave
faces.
“Have you got plenty of ammunition, Mr. Havens?” Ben asked.
“I think so,” was the reply.
“That’s good!” answered Ben.
“Why the question?” Mr. Havens asked, with a surprised look.
“Because,” Ben replied, “there’s a lot of Peruvian miners down on a
lower shelf of this cone and they’re drunk.”
“Well, they can’t get up here, can they?” asked Mr. Havens.
“They’re making a stab at it!” answered Ben.
“There seems to be a strike or something of that sort on down there,”
Glenn explained, “and it looks as if the fellows wanted to get up here
and take possession of the aeroplanes.”
“Perhaps we can talk them out of it!” smiled the millionaire.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to do something more than talk,” Glenn answered.
The three now went to the east side of the cone and looked down. There
was a gully leading from the shelf to a plateau below. At some past time
this gully had evidently been the bed of a running mountain stream. On
the plateau below were excavations and various pieces of crude mining
machinery.
Between the excavations and the bottom of the gully at least a hundred
men were racing for the cut, which seemed to offer an easy mode of
access to the shelf where the flying machines lay.
“We’ll have to stand here and keep them back!” Mr. Havens decided.
“I don’t believe we can keep them back,” Glenn answered, “for there may
be other places similar to this. Those miners can almost climb a
vertical wall.”
The voices of the miners could now be distinctly heard, and at least
three or four of them were speaking in English.
“Keep back!” Mr. Havens warned as they came nearer.
His words were greeted by a howl of derision.
“Perhaps,” Mr. Havens said in a moment, “one of you would better go back
to the machines and see if there is danger from another point.”
Ben started away, but paused and took his friend by the arm.
“What do you think of that?” he demanded, pointing away to the south.
Mr. Havens grasped the boy’s hand and in the excitement of the moment
shook it vigorously.
“I think,” he answered, “that those are the lights of the _Ann_, and
that we’ll soon have all the turn-buckles we want.”
The prophesy was soon verified. The _Ann_ landed with very little
difficulty, and the boys were soon out on the ledge.
The miners drew back grumbling and soon disappeared in the excavations
below.
As may well be imagined the greetings which passed between the two
parties were frank and heartfelt. The repair box of the _Ann_ was well
supplied with turn-buckles, and in a very short time the three machines
were on their way to the south.
Mr. Havens and Sam sat together on the _Ann_, and during the long hours
after midnight while the machines purred softly through the chill air of
the mountains, the millionaire was informed of all that had taken place
at the ruined temple.
“And that ruined temple you have described,” Mr. Havens said, with a
smile, “is in reality one of the underground stations on the way to the
Mystery of the Andes at Lake Titicaca.”
“And why?” asked Sam, “do they call any special point down there the
mystery of the Andes? There are plenty of mysteries in these tough old
mountain ranges!” he added with a smile.
“But this is a particularly mysterious kind of a mystery,” replied Mr.
Havens. “I’ll tell you all about it some other time.”