ORDERS FROM BOGOTA
From his hiding place, Jack watched Rhodes and his wife walk to the
cottage. Taking leave of Mrs. Rhodes at the doorstep, the engineer went
directly to a supply shed nearby.
Presently he emerged with an unlighted lantern.
Jack’s curiosity was aroused. When Rhodes took the trail leading away
from the mining camp, he followed at a safe distance.
The engineer did not go far. Leaving the well-defined path, he made his
way to a projecting, flat rock which gave a clear view of the valley
below.
Jack guessed that the man intended to signal, and he was right.
Rhodes lighted the lantern. Uneasily, the engineer glanced about. No
sound had given warning that Jack crouched behind the bushes, yet the
man seemed to sense that he was not alone. However, after carefully
surveying the area close by, he slowly began to move the lighted lantern
back and forth.
After awhile, he set it down on a rock and waited. From his hiding
place, Jack could not see below the ridge. He knew, however, from
Rhodes’ reaction, that no answering signal had been received.
After perhaps ten minutes, the engineer repeated the lantern signals.
Again he failed to obtain answering flashes.
After another long wait, the man tried a third time. The valley below
remained dark.
“Stupid fool!” Rhodes muttered, losing patience. “Doesn’t he see my
signal? Or has something gone wrong?”
Angrily, the engineer extinguished the lantern and left the high rock.
Jack saw him retrace his way to the cottage. A moment later, the light
went out, telling him that Rhodes had gone to bed.
Satisfied that he could learn no more by remaining abroad, Jack ambled
back to camp. To his surprise, he found Mr. Livingston up and dressed.
“Oh, here you are!” the Scout leader greeted him in relief. “I
discovered you were gone, and I was worried. What’s wrong?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Jack explained. “Lucky too, I guess, because while I
was prowling around, I picked up some useful information.”
He then related to Mr. Livingston the entire conversation he had
overheard between Rhodes and his wife.
“That confirms what we have suspected,” the Scout leader nodded. “Rhodes
must know what became of Corning! That raid Carlos pulled off probably
was a phony!”
“Then you think Rhodes arranged it? He hired Carlos to get rid of your
friend?”
“If he didn’t, Jack, at least he’s making no honest effort to ransom
Corning.”
“Corning may not be alive.”
“I refuse to take any view except that he is being held for ransom,
Jack. Carlos is a cunning fellow. Even if he did team up with Rhodes, it
wouldn’t be to his advantage to do away with Corning.”
“That’s so,” Jack agreed. “Mrs. Rhodes hinted as much when she told her
husband she was afraid of treachery. Carlos may try to play both sides!
But why doesn’t he show his hand?”
“That’s why we’re staying here and I’m sending War and Willie with Mrs.
Rhodes. Sooner or later, Carlos will make a demand, I believe. I don’t
trust Rhodes. So I want to be here when it comes.”
“What about the gems Mrs. Rhodes will be carrying? Shall we let her get
away with it?”
“Theoretically, as the wife of Rhodes, she’d be acting as his agent. If
she delivers the emeralds to the company office, we have no complaint.”
“Sure, but that’s not the plan,” Jack protested. “She intends to get
them through, but for her own and her husband’s use.”
“We’ll tip Willie and War to what’s going on,” Mr. Livingston decided.
“They can keep an eye on Mrs. Rhodes, and turn her in, if she doesn’t
deliver the gems. Now get some sleep, Jack. Tomorrow may be a hard day.”
Shortly after dawn the next morning, Willie and War set off with Mrs.
Rhodes on the difficult trip back to Bogota.
Aloof as always, the engineer’s wife coldly ignored her Scout escorts.
She carried a minimum of personal luggage, but had provided herself with
a more than generous supply of food, including a basket of bananas.
“Why does she take bananas?” Willie demanded in an undertone to Jack,
just prior to the start down the lonely mountain trail.
“You got me!” Jack replied with a shrug. “Seems to me that back at Santa
Marta, she said she disliked them.”
“That’s right! But she’s got some reason for carrying ’em. Mrs. Rhodes
never does anything without a reason. Say, I got a hunch—”
His “hunch” remained unrevealed, for the caravan had started to move
away. Mr. Livingston addressed a quiet word of warning to Willie as they
shook hands in farewell.
“Don’t underrate Mrs. Rhodes,” he told the Scout. “And keep an alert
watch for Carlos. I doubt he’ll make any trouble, but he might try to
hold up your party.”
“I’ll sure be glad to get to Bogota,” Willie sighed. “I got an uneasy
feeling about this trip.”
After the Scouts and Mrs. Rhodes had departed, the camp resumed its
usual routine of work. Mr. Rhodes, in a driving mood, assigned miners
across the river to the newly opened pit. However, he would not permit
Jack, Ken, Phillipe or Mr. Livingston to visit the area.
“He’s sore because we discovered the old vein,” Ken asserted.
“There’s more to it than that,” Jack insisted. “He’s accumulating
emeralds fast, and he doesn’t want us to know the extent of his haul.”
Two days elapsed. The weather was unpleasantly cold and the Explorers
found it difficult to keep comfortably warm in their tents.
Rhodes, though he now lived alone in the cottage, did not invite Mr.
Livingston, Ken and Jack to move in with him. They were too proud to
make the request.
The mining engineer worked hard. He was up before dawn and at the new
emerald vein soon after breakfast. There he remained for the greater
part of the day. Upon his return each night, he locked the diggings in
the big office safe.
During the engineer’s absence from camp, Jack and Ken made leisurely
inspections of the office and even the cottage. Rhodes however, had
anticipated the investigation and if any evidence existed, carefully had
destroyed it.
“We can’t hold out here much longer,” Mr. Livingston remarked on the
afternoon of the third day. “Our supplies are running low. Rhodes might
let us have what we need from the company stores, but I doubt it.”
“I’d rather starve than go begging to him!” Ken asserted. “Wonder what’s
happened to Willie and War?”
“It’s a long, hard trip to Bogota,” Mr. Livingston reminded him.
“Sure, I know,” Ken nodded. “They’ll do the best they can. But it’s hard
waiting—especially with nothing to do.”
The day wore on with the Scouts becoming increasingly restless. They
yearned for action. Anything, it seemed to Ken and Jack, would be better
than to remain inactive, merely waiting.
“If we just had some idea where to search for Corning,” Jack fretted.
“As it is—”
Hearing heavy footsteps, he did not finish what he had intended to say.
Rhodes strode into camp. He had fully recovered now from his accident,
save that his arm remained in a sling.
The engineer directed himself to Mr. Livingston, who was occupied
writing in a daily journal which he kept. Expectantly, the Scouts
gathered close, wondering what had brought Rhodes. He did not waste
words in informing them.
“I’ve just received a message from the company,” the engineer asserted.
“My wife reached Bogota and had the sample assayed.”
“You’ve heard so soon?” Mr. Livingston asked in astonishment. “We saw no
one arrive here at the camp.”
“The messenger came and departed a few minutes ago. My orders are to
close the mine.”
“To close it!” Mr. Livingston echoed incredulously. “In view of the new
discovery?”
“The pit is not worth the expense involved. Your sample assayed as
practically worthless.”
“It can’t be! That emerald looked flawless!”
“Emeralds are deceptive. I admit I was deceived myself as to its value.
But my orders are definite. The vein must be sealed, and the mine closed
no later than tomorrow.”
“What will you do?” Mr. Livingston asked slowly.
“Naturally, I’ll have to obey orders. I’ll dismiss the miners tonight
and join my wife in Bogota. You’ll have to leave in the morning. I
advise an early start.”
The Scout leader made no reply.
“You understand?” Rhodes said sharply. “This is not a bluff. The mine
will be shut down tomorrow.”
“We understand,” Mr. Livingston replied.
After Rhodes had gone, he and the two Scouts discussed the predicament
in which they now found themselves. They were reluctant to leave the
mine with Corning missing, and word expected momentarily from Willie and
War.
“Maybe Rhodes is just pulling another trick to get us out of here,” Ken
suggested. “Couldn’t we defy him and stick?”
“Our supplies are nearly gone,” Mr. Livingston reminded him. “Once the
mine closes, the camp likely will be looted by hill bandits or the
dismissed miners.”
“Carlos might show up here,” Jack suggested. “If so, we might make a
deal with him, or pry out of him what became of Mr. Corning.”
“I’d like to stay,” Mr. Livingston answered, “but it seems too risky.”
“It’s sure funny that Rhodes would get word back so fast from Bogota,”
Ken muttered. “We haven’t heard anything, and our boys were to have
chartered a plane.”
“I think Rhodes is lying,” Jack stated flatly. “Oh, he may close the
mine as he threatens, but I can’t believe that emerald we sent to Bogota
was worthless.”
“Maybe he’s just scared and intends to pull out,” Ken speculated. “That
strikes me as more likely.”
The discussion continued for some little time. It ended by Mr.
Livingston advising the Scouts to pack up their belongings and
equipment.
“Let’s be ready for an early start from here in the morning,” he
advised. “We don’t have to go, if we change our minds. But we’ll be set,
and Rhodes will assume that we intend to leave.”
Jack began to pack the items which would not be needed that night. The
task finished, he set off to fill the canteens with fresh water from a
nearby spring.
Passing the office and cottage, he noted that both appeared deserted.
Rhodes was not to be seen anywhere in camp.
“He’s probably across the river again,” Jack reflected.
A faint humming sound overhead, caused the Scout to halt abruptly.
Shading his eyes from the lowering sun, he scanned the sky.
At first he could see nothing. Then, with a pounding pulse, he observed
a moving speck against the blue. An airplane!
Jack glued his eyes upon the craft, scarcely daring to hope. Could it be
Willie and War obeying Mr. Livingston’s instructions to survey the
forest area? The plane was a long distance away, flying straight north
over the sea of trees.
Jack dropped the canteens and raced back to find Mr. Livingston and Ken.
The pair joined him on the path, having themselves heard the hum of the
distant motor.
“It must be Willie and War!” the Scout leader asserted jubilantly. “I
knew I could depend on them! But why don’t they fly over the camp?”
For twenty minutes the watchers caught tantalizing glimpses of the
plane. At times it passed beyond their line of vision, being hidden by
the mountain ridges or the clouds.
Then, as the trio became more impatient, Jack noted that the craft had
turned toward Emerald Valley once more. This time, the plane came
steadily on, flying directly in a line with the mining camp.
Drawing close, it dropped lower and began to circle.
“It’s Willie and War all right!” Ken chortled. “They’ll probably drop a
message because they can’t hope to land. I hope they’ve picked up some
information that’s worth while!”
The plane circled three times. Mr. Livingston and the Scouts signaled
their readiness to receive a message.
At length the cylinder was dropped. It flashed down, but was caught in a
strong gust of wind, and deflected from its target. Jack saw it fall
into a clump of bushes near the river.
Even as he and Ken started off to retrieve the cylinder, Rhodes came
hurriedly across the bridge. From the grim expression of his face and
his manner of walking, the Scouts instantly knew that he had seen the
cylinder dropped from the plane.
“Quick!” Mr. Livingston urged the two Explorers. “Don’t let him see that
message. If he gets it, all our plans will be ruined!”