THE MISSING SCOUTS
The Scouts found the mining engineer at the cottage, breakfasting with
his wife. Though somewhat pale, Rhodes looked much better, and was able
to be about. His right arm remained in a splint, but he managed his
coffee cup fairly well with his left one.
As the three came to the screen door, the engineer’s first look of
shocked surprise revealed very plainly that he had not expected their
return so soon.
Quickly recovering, however, he invited them in. “Have some coffee?” he
offered with more cordiality than usual.
“No, thanks,” Mr. Livingston spoke shortly. “We’re here to learn what
became of War and Willie.”
“Don’t ask me,” the engineer shrugged. “I haven’t seen them since they
left camp last night.”
“They didn’t start for Bogota?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“It’s not like them to start off anywhere without leaving word. Which
way did they go?”
“Down the valley.”
“Then they couldn’t have gone off in search of us,” Ken replied. The
remark slipped out before he considered how it would be taken.
Rhodes regarded him steadily as he reached for another muffin.
“So you didn’t go off in quest of your friend, Corning after all?” the
engineer inquired in a soft, faintly amused tone.
“You know very well where we went!” Jack accused, losing his temper.
“You thought you’d arrange things too so we wouldn’t get back until it
suited your convenience!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, young man. Suppose you
explain.”
“Gladly. You weakened the log bridge so it washed out, leaving us
stranded on the other side of the river!”
“And what were you doing over there?” the engineer questioned
insolently. “Searching for your friend Corning, I suppose?”
Mr. Livingston had seated himself at the breakfast table, opposite
Rhodes and his wife.
“We’re not trying to hide anything,” he informed the engineer quietly.
“Frankly, we were trying to find the old Spanish emerald mine that
Corning came upon some months ago.”
Rhodes laughed unpleasantly. “I suspected as much,” he said. “Every
greenhorn that comes to Colombia falls for those romantic tales about
lost mines. Corning was as big a sucker as anyone. But he never found
the mine.”
“You’re sure?” Mr. Livingston questioned.
“Of course, I am. He fell heir to an old map when he took over here. But
it was worthless. If the Spaniards ever mined in this area, the emeralds
are pretty well gone, except in this pit we’re working now. Any day it
will play out. Then the mine is finished and should be closed.”
“What do you say to this?” Carelessly, Mr. Livingston dropped a large
emerald on the table.
Both Rhodes and his wife gasped as they saw the handsome green stone. In
the morning sunlight, it burned with a rich fire and appeared flawless.
Carefully, the engineer examined the gem. For a long moment, he did not
speak.
“Well?” the Scout leader prompted.
“So you found the old mine after all?” Rhodes returned, his eyes
glittering. “Or shall we say you were guided there? You never could have
come upon it by your own efforts.”
“At any rate, we have discovered the mine—apparently, a rich one. The
Last Chance should take on new life now.”
“That remains to be seen. One emerald doesn’t make a mine, you know.
I’ll send this sample to Bogota to be assayed. Meanwhile, I’ll put the
men over there, opening up a new pit.”
Ken and Jack were rather dismayed at Rhodes’ proposal that he keep the
emerald. To their surprise, Mr. Livingston appeared to fall in with the
suggestion.
“How soon can the emerald be taken to the Bogota office?” he inquired.
“My wife had planned to return there today or tomorrow. She can take the
gem.”
“You’re not afraid to have her travel alone with a valuable stone? She
might meet Carlos.”
“I have no fear of him,” Mrs. Rhodes spoke up quickly. “Anyway, I have a
means of carrying the gem—”
“You’ll start early tomorrow,” her husband interrupted, deliberately
cutting her off.
“I’ll have one of my boys go along,” Mr. Livingston said, off hand.
“Corning’s disappearance must be reported to the authorities.”
“My wife can take care of it.”
“I’d prefer to have a Scout along. Besides, your wife should have
someone with her on the trail.”
Rhodes started to protest, then seemed to think better of it. “Suit
yourself,” he shrugged.
“About Willie and War,” the Scout leader resumed. “You’ll send out a
searching party?”
“No, I can’t!” Rhodes snapped. “We’re running a mine—not a kindergarten.
I didn’t ask you and your party to come here! You’ve interfered with
operations!”
“We did discover the old mine, don’t forget.”
“Oh, that! You didn’t make such an important discovery. I’ve always
known—”
“You’ve known the location for some little time?” Mr. Livingston quietly
supplied. “Perhaps that was why you were so eager to get back here again
as engineer?”
“No such thing!” Rhodes denied. “Now get out of here, will you? Let me
finish my breakfast in peace!”
“Sorry to have disturbed you,” Mr. Livingston returned. “Good morning.”
He and the two Scouts left the cottage. Once they were well beyond
hearing, Jack and Ken anxiously questioned their leader as to his plan
of procedure.
“Don’t you think it may have been a mistake to let Rhodes have that
emerald?” Ken demanded. “It must have high value.”
“Whatever its worth, Ken, the gem belongs to the mining company.”
“Sure, but will Mrs. Rhodes turn it over to agents in Bogota or
Cartagena?”
“That’s one thing I want to learn, Ken. I have a hunch Rhodes doesn’t
want to reveal to company officials that the old mine has been located.
If his wife delivers the emerald, it will be a dead give-away because
any expert will know immediately that the gem didn’t come from the Last
Chance.”
“And if she fails to turn it in?” Jack suggested.
“That would be enough to arouse company officials.”
“So you’re figuring Rhodes and his wife may be forced to show their hand
one way or the other?”
“I have a hunch Rhodes is trying to bleed this mine for his own
benefit,” the Scout leader replied. “His decision to open a pit at the
new mine before the sample is assayed, convinces me of that. He figures
on working the vein fast, and getting out with what he can before the
company clamps down on him.”
“And before Corning is found, either dead or alive,” supplied Ken.
“That’s the way I see it,” Mr. Livingston nodded. “Unless Willie or War
can be found in the next few hours, you must go to Bogota with Mrs.
Rhodes, Jack. See that she turns the emerald over to company officials.
Report Corning’s disappearance, and that Willie and War are missing.”
“I’ll send the authorities.”
“That may take some doing, Jack. I’ve been told they maintain a
hands-off policy with respect to this mine. There’s one thing you can
do. When you reach Bogota, rent a plane and fly back here.”
“Fly? There’s no possible landing place.”
“True. You’re to survey the area, especially Emerald Valley in the
locality where we saw those flashing signals. See if you can spot
anything remotely resembling a bandit hide-out.”
“From the air that might be done! If I see anything suspicious, I’ll
drop a message!”
“I hate to spare you for the trip, Jack,” Mr. Livingston went on
anxiously. “But there’s no other way unless we get a trace of Willie and
War.”
In an attempt to gather some information about the missing pair, the
Scouts talked to several of the miners. They were able to confirm that
Willie and War had left camp the previous night, starting down trail
with only light equipment.
“Something important must have come up,” Ken said. “But it’s mighty
queer they left no word.”
With Mr. Livingston, the Scouts searched the camp thoroughly without
finding even a clue as to the strange disappearance. Nor could the
missing boys be sighted through field glasses. Ken was in favor of
seeking them afoot, but the trail had not been marked. If Willie and War
had left the main path to wander in the bush, they might be hopelessly
lost.
“I’m depending upon their good common sense,” Mr. Livingston asserted.
“They know the dangers. If we wait a few hours, I think they may come
dragging in under their own steam.”
As the morning wore on, the Scouts fretted at delay, yet acknowledged
that hasty action would accomplish nothing. Rhodes, meanwhile, spurred
by their discovery of the old Spanish mine, had put men to work
rebuilding the washed out bridge. Watching the engineer direct the
laborers, the Scouts lost some of their conviction that he previously
had weakened the structure.
“Maybe that bridge did go out by itself,” Jack remarked to Ken.
“Don’t you believe it! He’s putting on a show for our benefit. Anyway,
he’s anxious to dig emeralds in a new pit now that he knows we’ve
uncovered the vein.”
After watching the bridge building for awhile, the two Scouts rejoined
their leader. Mr. Livingston had just returned from down-trail where he
unsuccessfully had sought clues with respect to the disappearance of
their chums.
“No signs anywhere along the path,” he reported in discouragement.
“Apparently, when they left, they were confident they could get back
without any trouble.”
Uncertain what to do, the Scouts kept close watch of the trail as the
morning wore on. They were discussing the possibility of a mule-back
search, when Jack suddenly cried:
“Say, I think they’re coming now!” Excitedly, he pointed down through
the dense trees hemming much of the winding trail.
The three watchers glued their eyes on a visible stretch of path some
distance below. Before Mr. Livingston could adjust his field glasses,
the two missing Scouts were sighted trudging wearily around a bend.
“It’s War and Willie all right!” Jack shouted in relief. “Safe and sound
too! Who do they think they are, anyhow, scaring the living daylights
out of us? I’ll give ’em a piece of my mind!”
Mr. Livingston smiled, but shook his head. “Don’t be too hasty,” he
advised as the three started down the trail to meet the truants. “Unless
I’m mistaken, War and Willie probably had a good reason for taking off
from camp. Let’s give ’em a chance to explain.”