In the Andes
Professor Swyington Bumper seemed to live in a region all by himself.
Though he was on board the Bellaconda, he might just as well have been
in an airship, or riding along on the back of a donkey, as far as his
knowledge, or recognition, of his surroundings went. He seemed to be
thinking thoughts far, far away, and he was never without a
book--either a bound volume or a note-book. In the former he buried his
hawk-like nose, and Tom, looking over his shoulder once, saw that the
book was printed in curious characters, which, later, he learned were
Sanskrit. If he had a note-book the bald-headed professor was
continually jotting down memoranda in it.
"I can hardly think of him as a conspirator against us," said Tom to
Mr. Titus.
"After you have been in the contracting business as long as I have
you'll distrust every one," was the answer. "Waddington isn't on
board, or I'd distrust him. That Spaniard, Senor Pinto, seems to be out
of consideration, and there only remains the professor. We must watch
him."
But Professor Bumper proved to be above suspicion. Carefully guarded
inquiries made of the captain, the purser and other ships' officers,
brought out the fact that he was well known to all of them, having
traveled on the line before.
"He is making a search for something, but he won't say what it is," the
captain said. "At first we thought it was gold or jewels, for he goes
away off into the Andes Mountains, where both gold and jewels have been
found. He never looks for treasure, though, for though some of his
party have made rather rich discoveries, he takes no interest in them."
"What is he after then?" asked Mr. Titus.
"No one knows, and he won't tell. But whatever it is he has never found
it yet. Always, when he comes back, unsuccessful, from a trip to the
interior and goes back North with us, he will remark that he has not
the right directions. That he must seek again.
"Back he comes next season, as full of hope as before, but only to be
disappointed. Each time he goes to a new place in the mountains where
he digs and delves, so members of the parties he hires tell me, but
with no success. He carries with him something in a small iron box,
and, whatever this is, he consults it from time to time. It may be
directions for finding whatever he is after. But there seems to be
something wrong."
"This is quite a mystery," remarked Tom.
"It certainly is. But Professor Bumper is a fine man. I have known him
for years."
"This seems to dispose of the theory that he planted the bomb, and that
he is one of the plotters in the pay of Blakeson & Grinder," said Mr.
Titus, when he and Tom were alone.
"Yes, I guess it does. But who can have done it?"
That was a question neither could answer.
Tom had a theory, which he did not disclose to Mr. Titus, that, after
all, the somewhat mysterious Senor Pinto might, in some way, be mixed
up in the bomb attempt. But a close questioning of the steward on duty
near the foreigner's cabin at the time disclosed the fact that Pinto
had been ill in his berth all that day.
"Well, unless the bomb fell from some passing airship, I don't see how
it got on deck," said Tom with a shake of his head. "And I'm sure no
airship passed over us."
They had kept the matter secret, not telling even Mr. Damon, for they
feared the eccentric man would make a fuss and alarm the whole vessel.
So Mr. Damon, occasionally blessing his necktie or his shoe laces,
played chess with his elderly gentleman friend and was perfectly happy.
That Professor Bumper not only had kept his promise about not
mentioning the bomb, but that he had forgotten all about it, was
evident a day or two after the happening. Tom and Mr. Titus passed him
on deck, and bowed cordially. The professor returned the salutation,
but looked at the two in a puzzled sort of fashion.
"I beg your pardon," he remarked, "but your faces are familiar, though
I cannot recall your names. Haven't I seen you before?"
"You have," said Tom, with a smile. "You saved our lives from a bomb
the other day."
"Oh, yes! So I did! So I did!" exclaimed Professor Bumper. "I felt
sure I had seen you before. Are you all right?"
"Yes. There haven't been any more bombs thrown at us," the contractor
said. "By the way, Professor Bumper, I understand you are quite a
traveler in the Andes, in the vicinity of Lima."
"Yes, I have been there," admitted the bald-headed scientist in guarded
tones.
"Well, I am digging a tunnel in that vicinity," went on Mr. Titus, "and
if you ever get near Rimac, where the first cutting is made, I wish you
would come and see me--Tom too, as he is associated with me."
"Rimac-Rimac," murmured the professor, looking sharply at the
contractor. "Digging a tunnel there? Why are you doing that?" and he
seemed to resent the idea.
"Why, the Peruvian government engaged me to do it to connect the two
railroad lines," was the answer. "Do you know anything about the place?"
"Not so much as I hope to later on," was the unexpected answer. "As it
happens I am going to Rimac, and I may visit your tunnel."
"I wish you would," returned Mr. Titus.
Later on, in their stateroom, the contractor remarked to the young
inventor:
"Sort of queer; isn't it?"
"What?" asked Tom. "His not remembering us?"
"No, though that was odd. But I suppose he is forgetful, or pretends to
be. I mean it's queer he is going to Rimac."
"What do you mean?" asked Tom.
"Well, I don't know exactly what I mean," went on the tunnel
contractor, "but our tunnel happens to start at Rimac, which is a small
town at the base of the mountains."
"Maybe the professor is a geologist," suggested Tom, "and he may want
to get some samples of that hard rock."
"Maybe," admitted Mr. Titus. "But I shall keep my eyes on him all the
same. I'm not going to have any strangers, who happen to be around when
bombs drop near us, get into my tunnel."
"I think you're wrong to doubt Professor Bumper," Tom said.
A few days after this, when Tom and Mr. Titus were casually discussing
the weather on deck and wondering how much longer it would be before
they reached Callao, Mr. Damon, who had been playing numberless games
of chess, came up for a breath of air.
"Mr. Damon," called Tom, "come over here and meet a friend of ours,
Professor Bumper," and he was about to introduce them, for the two, as
far as Tom knew, had not yet met. But no sooner had the professor and
Mr. Damon caught sight of each other than there was a look of mutual
recognition.
"Bless my fountain pen!" cried the eccentric man. "If it isn't my old
friend!"
"Mr. Damon!" cried the professor. "I am delighted to see you again. I
did not know you were on board!"
"Nor I you. Bless my apple dumpling! Are you still after those Peruvian
antiquities?"
"I am, Mr. Damon. But I did not know you were acquainted with Mr.
Swift."
"Oh, Tom and I are old friends."
"Professor Bumper saved the lives of Mr. Titus and myself," said Tom,
"or at least he saved us from severe injury by a bomb."
"Pray do not mention it, my friends," put in the professor, casually.
"It was nothing."
Of course he did not mean it just that way.
Then, naturally, Mr. Damon had to be told all about the bomb for the
first time, and his wonder was great. He blessed everything he could
think of.
"And to think it should be my old friend, Professor Bumper, who saved
you," said the odd man to Tom and Mr. Titus later that day.
"Do you know him well?" asked Mr. Titus.
"Very well indeed. Our drug concern sells him many chemicals for his
experiments."
"Well, if you know him I guess he can't be what I thought he was," the
contractor went on. "I'm glad to know it. Why is he going to the Andes?"
"Oh, for many years he has been interested in collecting Peruvian
antiquities. He has a certain theory in regard to something or other
about their ancient civilization, but just what it is I have, at this
moment, forgotten. Only I know you can thoroughly trust Professor
Bumper, for a finer man never lived, though he is a bit absent-minded
at times. But you will like him very much."
Thus the last lingering doubt of Professor Bumper was removed. Mr.
Damon told something of how the scientist had been honored by degrees
from many colleges and was regarded as an authority on Peruvian matters.
But who had placed the bomb on deck remained a mystery.
In due time Callao, the seaport of Lima, was reached and our friends
disembarked. Tom saw to the unloading of the explosive, which was to be
sent direct to the tunnel at Rimac. Mr. Titus, Tom and Mr. Damon would
remain in Lima a day or so.
Professor Bumper disembarked with our friends, and stopped at the same
hotel. Tom kept a lookout for Senor Pinto, but did not see him, and
concluded that the Spaniard was ill, and would be carried ashore on a
stretcher, perhaps.
Lima, the principal city and capital of Peru, proved an interesting
place. It was about eight miles inland and was built on an arid plain
about five hundred feet above sea level. Yet, though it was on what
might be termed a desert, the place, by means of irrigation, had been
made into a beauty spot.
Tom found the older part of the city was laid out with mathematical
regularity, each street crossing the other at right angles. But in the
new portions there was not this adherence to straightness.
"Bless my transfer! Why, they have electric cars here!" exclaimed Mr.
Damon, catching sight of one on the line between Callao and the capital.
"What did you think they'd have?" asked Mr. Titus, "elephants or
camels?"
"I--I didn't just know," was the answer.
"Oh, you'll find a deal of civilization here," the contractor said. "Of
course much of the population is negro or Indian, but they are often
rich and able to buy what they want. There is a population of over
150,000, and there are two steam railroads between Callao and Lima,
while there is one running into the interior for 130 miles, crossing
the Andes at an elevation of over three miles. It is a branch of that
road, together with a branch of the one running to Ancon, that I am to
connect with a tunnel."
Tom found some beautiful churches and cathedrals in Lima, and spent
some time visiting them. He and Mr. Damon also visited, in the
outskirts, the tobacco, cocoa and other factories.
Three days after reaching the capital, Mr. Titus having attended to
some necessary business while Mr. Damon set on foot matters connected
with his affairs, it was decided to strike inland to Rimac, and to try
the effect of Tom Swift's explosive on the tunnel.
The journey was to be made in part by rail, though the last stages of
it were over a rough mountain trail, with llamas for beasts of burden,
while our friends rode mules.
As Tom, Mr. Damon, Koku, and Mr. Titus were going to the railroad
station they saw Professor Bumper also leaving the hotel.
"I believe our roads lie together for a time," said the bald-headed
scientist, "and, if you have no objections, I will accompany you."
"Come, and welcome!" exclaimed Mr. Titus, all his suspicions now gone.
"And it may be that you will be able to help me," the scientist went on.
"Help you--how?" asked Tom.
"I will tell you when we reach the Andes," was the mysterious answer.
It was a day later when they left the train at a small station, and
struck off into the foothills of the great Andes Mountains, where the
tunnel was started, that the professor again mentioned his object.
"Friends," he said, as he gazed up at the towering cliffs and crags, "I
am searching for the lost city of Pelone, located somewhere in these
mountains. Will you help me to find it?"