THE RELATION OF MIGUEL VASQUEZ
It may be well to recount how such a young lad as Ned had become so
famous.
Ned's father had been a consulting engineer with a fondness for
aeronautics. When Mr. Napier died, a year before Ned's meeting with
the Major, it was discovered that he was making in his little shop a
small dirigible balloon to be used at an amusement park. Mr.
Napier's death was sudden. Manufacturer's bills for the balloon bag
and engine came due and Ned, young as he was, knew that he must pay
them. Putting on all the dignity that his sixteen years would
permit he called on the manager of the amusement park.
"I hear your father is dead," said the manager. "I suppose we have
lost the twenty-five per cent we advanced on the air ship."
"Why do you suppose that?"
"Because he had complete charge of the work and we have no one to
take his place."
"I mean to do that myself," said Ned.
The manager smiled and shook his head. "No doubt you would try--you
look it--but we don't care to experiment."
"But you want the air ship, don't you? You've advertised it."
"Yes, it was ordered--through your father. Since he is dead and
cannot contribute his services, our agreement is void."
"Very well," replied Ned. "Good day."
"Look here," interrupted the manager, "what do you mean to do?"
"I'm going out to sell an air ship."
"You mean our air ship?"
"You said the contract is void."
The manager laughed again, but not as jovially.
"You ought to get on," he exclaimed.
"I've got to get on, and I'm going to do it by being on the square."
"I guess you're right. What's your proposition?"
"Since you've thrown up the contract I'm going to sell the balloon
at a profit. The price is now $3,000. And I want a contract as
operator for six weeks at $100 per week."
The manager stared at Ned and then exclaimed. "I'll do it. You are
the very youngster we want."
That was how Ned Napier came to finish the air ship his father had
planned, and how it happened all that summer that the papers printed
news stories and Sunday specials with pictures of his daring
flights, and how Major Baldwin Honeywell and other happened to speak
of him as the Ned Napier.
To return to the scene of Ned's meeting with the Major--
"My name is Ned Napier," the boy began as soon as his host's
cordiality gave him a chance, "and I am the young man the newspapers
wrote about."
"I certainly made no mistake in sending for you," exclaimed the
soldier. "But, before I say more I want you to realize that this
is, to me, a most important matter."
"You mean it is--"
"A solemn secret. I want secure your services in a desperate and
daring adventure that will mean a great deal to me--and a great deal
to you."
"Certainly," was the boy's response. "I give you my pledge on that."
A look of relief came into the old soldier's face.
"If I furnished you the money," went on Major Honeywell suddenly,
"could you produce in a short time a practical and manageable
balloon?"
Before the boy could answer the old soldier continued: "I don't mean
one of those affairs in which ascensions of an hour or so are made.
I mean one in which you could travel for several days--perhaps a
week?"
"No," said Ned, "it can't be done. No one has yet remained in the
air in a balloon over fifty-two hours."
Major Honeywell said nothing, but Ned could see that what he had
told the Major had dashed some budding hope.
"That is," Ned hastened to explain, "you couldn't do it unless you
periodically renewed your supply of hydrogen. I really believe,"
continued Ned, "that I ought to know more about what you are
planning to accomplish."
Again the white-mustached man was silent a few moments, and then he
told without reserve the great secret. He began with an account of
himself. Until three years before he had been an officer in the
United States cavalry, stationed in the southwest. Then the
President had assigned him to ethnological work. His special work
was in the ruins of the Sedentary Pueblos. While scaling a cliff in
this work he fell and permanently injured his left knee.
Resigning from the army, he traveled for a year and then went to
visit an old friend, Senor Pedro Oje, whose immense sheep herds in
Southwestern Colorado had made their owner a millionaire.
While here, hearing of an ancient nearby pueblo, just south of the
Mesa Verde, Major Honeywell and his friend drove to the settlement.
To Major Honeywell's surprise he found an old friend in Totontenac,
the chief. As the two white men were about to leave, old Totontenac
presented to his soldier friend an ancient funeral urn.
Major Honeywell was almost paralyzed with astonishment when he saw
that the vessel was sealed and that it bore on its side, instead of
the conventional Aztec design, this inscription in black: "Miguel
Vasquez, 1545."
"What was in it?" asked Ned quickly when the Major came to this part
of his narrative.
"That man was undoubtedly a soldier who marched out of Mexico in
1539 with Friar Marcos, the great explorer," went on Major
Honeywell, ignoring the question, "and when others gave up the
search for the famed seven cities of Cibola and the wealth of the
Aztecs that every Spaniard believed rivaled the treasure of the
Incas, this man kept on. Either by accident or design Miguel
Vasquez was left by the expedition and six years later he wrote on
cowhide and concealed in that vase one of the most valuable historic
records extant in America to-day--confirmation that there was a real
basis for the tales that lured the Spaniards to this region in quest
of treasure."
Stepping to a trunk Major Honeywell took from a compartment a tin
tube. From this he extracted a stiff sheet of parchment-like
material.
"It's writing, isn't it?" exclaimed Ned.
"Yes, and Spanish. It is Miguel Vasquez's last will and testament,
written over three hundred and fifty years ago. And here is a
translation of it. You may read it yourself. That is my
secret--and yours now!"
And these are the words that turned the current of Ned Napier's
life:
"A relation of Miguel Vasquez soldier of Spain made in the year 1546
concerning the hidden city of Tune Cha. Coming out of Saint Michael
in the Province of Culican I journeyed with Captain Marco de Nica in
1539. At Vacupa I departed from him and remained now six years
among those of this land. Three years I dwelt in the town of Acuco
and heard often of the city of Tune Cha wherein is to be found the
Temple of Turquoise than which none more beautiful is to be found,
not even in Castile itself. Such I have seen with my own eyes. It
standeth within a palace of five hundred rooms or more wherein are
to be found priestly vessels of gold and silver. And this same
palace or City of Priests is compassed about by a massive wall. And
in the center of the palace standeth the Temple, facing the sun
which is the sacred place of al Quivera, Arche and Guyas. And the
walls of this Temple are naught but precious Turquoise even to the
height of forty feet or more, and the pillars thereof are of gold
and silver alternate. Knowledge of this hidden and beautiful city
hath not been reported unto Spain nor even unto Nueva Espana. From
Acuco it lieth thirty day's travel west of north and as I estimate
in 36 degrees latitude in the mountains of Tune Cha. From the Rio
de Chuco it lieth west six days' travel. Nor may it be discovered
but by those who have knowledge of it.
Miguel Vasquez"
"What I had hoped to do," said Major Honeywell at last, "was to make
the most perfect balloon ever built and discover through you this
hidden temple of turquoise treasure. You say you cannot do it."
Something he had never felt before shot through Ned's body. His
face flushed and then grew pale under the spell that was on him.
"Major Honeywell," he said suddenly, "I don't know of a balloon that
can be made to fly for a week. But if it is necessary to have one
to do what you wish I'll make it and I'll find Vasquez's Turquoise
Temple."