DELAYED RETURN
When Don de Zimmon’s limousine drew up before the palatial home of the
de Castros, there was real concern on the face of Pedro de Castro as he
came to greet them.
“My old friend, Alonzo, it is indeed a great pleasure to see you but
your looks are all so grave that I am anxious to know if trouble has
befallen any of you.”
“A little scrap, Padre, that’s all. We were so mussed, that is, our
clothes, that Senor de Zimmon generously gave us a lift, which we
accepted instead of waiting for the car.” Carlos spoke lightly.
“Your son, my friend, is not unlike we were, you and I, in long past
days when adventure made our blood hot, but although we thought nothing
of facing danger, we carefully concealed details from families if we
were able. He is only partly correct in his statement. It was because I
felt that something more serious might occur that I urged an immediate
return home. I should have been most distressed had I permitted them to
come unattended,” the Don replied.
“Many exploits we shared, my old friend, but it was always you who faced
the greatest danger and whose deeds were most daring. On your heels I
was a courageous fellow—ready to attack a lion—but alone—” he shrugged
his shoulders, “alone I was given to going the long way around.”
“You do not do yourself justice. Once I recall that your sword saved me
when my own had been broken; and another time you fought off a hungry
shark—”
“It was nothing—” old Pedro said quickly.
“Nothing, Padre? You never told me anything about those times!”
“Perhaps some day we will talk of them. Tell me this moment, what danger
threatened these sons of my friends in the United States, and my own
boy?”
“They were attacked at the fiesta by a lot of ruffians and came rolling
into the kitchen of the Santa Maria just as I entered to speak to my
manager. My first impulse was to have them kicked out.” As he spoke his
eyes rested a moment on Jim, then he proceeded, “but I saw that they
were not all of the same breed, so I had the scum booted and brought
these boys home to you because I feel sure that the men who assaulted
them would not be satisfied with the outcome of the combat.”
“That is indeed serious. Let us go to the portico where it is cool, and
let me hear at once the facts. I beg of you, my dear Don, come with us,
then I shall surely get the full particulars from these young people.”
The three boys glanced at each other ruefully, but they followed the old
gentlemen and were soon seated about a small table in the shade of great
palm trees close by the pool with its tall fountain from which the water
shot high, then dropped back on the glistening foliage. A servant
brought iced drinks, and when they were comfortably settled, the host’s
eyes sought his son’s with a question.
“I don’t understand it, Padre, I’d promised the Buddies that I would
join them at the fiesta the minute I could get there, and I was much
later than I expected to be. To save time, I hired a cab and had the man
drive me around the further side because I thought I could reach the
boys more directly. I paid the man and he went off, then I noticed
another car coming along the road. There wasn’t anything special about
that, only it seemed strange anyone should come to the festival by that
route, but I dismissed the matter because I’d come by that route
myself.”
“Yes?”
“The car was being driven very slowly as if the chauffeur expected to
pick up someone he had not located. Then, as I hurried along, I saw two
men coming rather quickly, supporting a third man between them. His feet
rather dragged but not as if he was drunk and his hands, or one of them,
was fumbling in the front of his coat. His hat was on the back of his
head, which was moving from side to side, and just as they drew close,
it was knocked off. One of the men bent and picked it up and then I
caught a glance of the sick man’s face. It was very flushed, but his
eyes looked as if he was perfectly aware of what was taking place. They
put his hat on, the chauffeur blew his horn softly, and in a moment the
three got into the car and it was driven away quickly.”
“Extraordinary!”
“I didn’t think much about that at the moment, then it dawned upon me
that the man’s eyes were more fearful than ill. I paused at the spot
where his hat dropped wondering if I should report the matter, then,
right at my feet I saw a wallet. I supposed it belonged to the third
man, so I picked it up, determined to hand it over to the police as soon
as possible. Then I hurried to join our friends, and had just succeeded
in finding their table and calling a greeting when a stranger touched my
arm from behind and begged that I return the wallet which he was going
to take to his sick friend.”
“That’s when we saw him,” Jim put in.
“Ordinarily I should have done so without a question, for the chap was
gentlemanly enough, but the look in that man’s eyes sort of got me, so I
told him I was not sure that I should. Immediately his face got ugly and
he poked his fingers into my ribs and demanded that I hand it over at
once and from right behind him jumped two huge fellows. One of them
landed his fist on my jaw, then I believe the Flying Buddies came on
with their engines wide open. I felt one of the men make a dive to my
pocket, so I managed to roll over and keep my coat closed tightly. After
that I felt as if I’d landed in a hive of mad bees and I couldn’t get up
until the chief dragged me to my feet. One of the men accused me of
stealing the wallet and demanded that I be searched, but the Don stepped
in and took command. That’s all I know.”
“What sort of looking men were they, my son?”
“The two who supported him were tall, well-built fellows. The sick man
was quite stout and wore a dark suit. I should say that he was an
American; he was quite fair.” Although this description was not very
complete, the Flying Buddies exchanged glances.
“Wonder if it was Ollie?” Bob ventured.
“And who is this Ollie?” the Don asked with interest.
“He’s—I don’t know much about what he is, really, but we saw him the
first time in Don Haurea’s home a year ago, and today he was at the
table nearest to ours on the other side of the hedge,” Bob replied, then
proceeded with an account of the affair to which the gentlemen listened
attentively.
“And you are guessing that this so-called sick man may be this one to
whom you listened?”
“It popped into my head, sir. I just thought that if his companion at
the table wanted to get information from him, he might have arranged to
take him off the grounds in some way,” Bob answered.
“They must have worked fast,” Jim added.
“Those fellows aren’t exactly slow motion movers,” said Bob.
“No, they are not.”
“Have you heard anything of recent platinum discoveries?” the Don
inquired.
“No, I have not, but according to this ‘Ollie’s’ statement, he had kept
the secret to himself,” Pedro de Castro reminded them.
“We all know that the Andes are rich with treasure of one sort or
another and many expeditions have been financed to search for the
precious metal, but I understand that our geologists agree that while
there may be small quantities of it in different sections it is of a
poor quality and in places where getting it out would cost more than it
is worth,” the Don told them.
“That is quite true. I have seen the report. When the Spaniards came to
this land there was a good deal, or rather the Indians had quantities of
it; they called it ‘frog gold’ but at that time the white men knew
nothing of its value and would not have it. Later a great deal was
accumulated and shipped to Spain, then the supply diminished until now
it is almost gone. Now it is Russia that is rich with the mineral,”
Senor de Castro explained.
“Well, I say, Carlos, we can soon settle if the chap was Ollie. Perhaps
the name is on his wallet,” Jim suggested.
“I never thought of that.” Carlos grinned and produced it from his
inside pocket. He handed it to his father and the older man turned it
over carefully. It was as long as a legal-sized envelope, made of very
soft thin Russian leather, with three long folds. When it was opened
wide they saw two small flaps in the middle to be brought down over the
ends of bills or papers, while the outside edges were stitched to form a
pocket. Senor de Castro examined it carefully but there wasn’t a scrap
of paper of any description in it.
“Empty as a last year’s bird’s nest,” Jim remarked.
“Quite empty,” their host replied.
“It’s a nice looking wallet, but shivering sharks, what is there about
that to fight over?” Bob exploded.
“It is very mysterious,” Senor de Castro responded soberly. He handed it
to his friend, who also scrutinized it thoroughly.
“Not so much as an initial scratched on it,” he declared.
“Some mystery,” Jim put in. “Perhaps Carlos was seen picking the wallet
up and they were not taking any chances on losing the secret.”
“Yes,” Bob added. “We don’t know that it is Ollie’s.”
“That is true. We do not. In fact, we know little more than we did
before we examined it. I should suggest that you retain possession of it
for the present and I can make judicious inquiries as to the identity of
the owner. If he were really ill, it is more than likely that he is now
in the hospital, and he could not be admitted without a name. It was
strange indeed that a gang of ruffians should make such an effort to
secure it, unless they did not know how barren it was. Now, my good
friend, I think it would be well for our young people to—as it is so
aptly put in America, scrutinize their step.”
“We’ll watch our step, and our hop too,” Jim laughed.
“Yes. We are off for home in the morning so I guess there are no more
Peruvian adventures for us,” Bob grinned cheerfully.
“Then, I shall tell you it is with regret that I bid you good evening,
and I trust that I shall have the pleasure of meeting you again.” The
Don extended his hand cordially, and both boys rather wished that they
had had a chance to know him better.
“If you ever get to the bottom of this puzzle I hope you will let us
know, sir.”
“I shall be delighted.” The Don took his departure, and when Senor de
Castro returned to the portico the boys were still puzzling over the
empty wallet.
“You will be careful,” he urged.
“Of course. Don de Zimmon seems like a mighty fine man. You must have
had some wonderful times when you were growing up,” Bob remarked.
“We had some wonderful times, but we did not grow up together. The Don
is Peruvian, although he speaks little of his forefathers. He came here
with his family when he was a lad in his teens and we attended the same
school; also we went off to college and after that we drifted apart. The
Don traveled extensively in the Orient, and a few years ago he returned
to Cuzco with his wife and children. They are a fine family, splendid
citizens,” Senor de Castro explained.
“Tell us about that shark business, Padre,” Carlos insisted.
“You have forgotten that your suits need to be changed,” his father
reminded him.
“That’s so,” they had to admit, so they could not press the man for the
story, although it sounded mighty thrilling. When they returned, ready
for dinner, a cable was handed to Jim, who opened and decoded it
quickly.
“We miss you much, but I wish that you would stay until the
analysis is made and bring the report with you. I shall feel
safer than trusting it to the regular carriers. All well here.
Dad.”
“It will give us pleasure to have you remain,” Carlos chuckled when the
message was read to him and his father.
“It will take perhaps two days to get the report and I believe that
Senor Austin’s caution is very wise,” the older man declared. Although
the Flying Buddies were anxious to get home and the message gave them a
deep feeling of disappointment, they kept it to themselves, and grinned
as if delighted at the postponement.
“Doubtless you will learn more of the mystery of my sick friend, or your
Ollie,” Carlos suggested.
“It’ll be great to know what the answer is,” Jim responded cheerfully.
Later that evening when they were in Jim’s room, Caldwell lingered at
the door. “I say, we were lucky that Don de Zimmon could tell us from
the roughnecks.” Austin looked at him a moment.
“It was lucky that we were wearing the green emerald rings that Yncicea
Haurea gave us that day we rescued him off the Island in Lake
Champlain,” he replied softly.
“The rings?” Bob glanced at his.
“Sure. The Don saw mine first then had a look at yours when he shook
hands with you. Guess he’s one of the Ynca descendants.”
“I might have known he couldn’t pick us out of that mess. Gee, Buddy,
what a lot of things we have nose-dived into since the boy gave us those
rings. I am rather glad we are staying over, perhaps we’ll see the Don
again and I’d like to know if that sick lad was Ollie.”
“Me too. Suppose we better get to bed now, I’m tired as the very
dickens,” Jim remarked.
“So am I, in a way, but I’m kind of hankerin’ to have a look at the
‘Lark’—”
“You mean that you want to go joy riding along the milky way,” Jim
grinned. “Well, reckon I’m not too tired for that, but we don’t want to
overdo it—just a little hop or the De Castros will be worried stiff.”
“Just a little one,” Bob nodded eagerly. They did not wait to do more
than slip into light jackets, then they went quietly out of the house
and made their way unnoticed to the new hangar where they found the
“Lark” resting as if poised for immediate flight into the starry
heavens. She was a beautifully built plane with all known, and several
as-yet-unknown, modern improvements, for it was a gift from Don Haurea
in grateful acknowledgement of services rendered him and his immediate
family by the Flying Buddies. Their first plane had proudly borne the
name of Her Highness, but some enemy bent on revenge had ruined her, and
had almost killed Bob too.
“She does look good. Let’s not light up this place; it may attract
attention from the house and Senor de Castro will think something is
wrong,” Jim proposed, as he opened the door to the cock-pit.
“Suits me.” Bob climbed into the pilot seat and while he adjusted the
parachute, Austin glanced at the radio instrument then suddenly switched
off the light on the control board.
“What’s up—”
“I don’t know. Look at the dials,” Jim whispered, and then Bob noticed
an odd green light playing about the rims of the instrument.
“It’s the signal from the Laboratory,” Bob said softly.
“Green means anger. Someone who is hopping mad is around here, Buddy.
Scrutinize your process, old timer.”
“Perhaps you’d better see how things are in the back,” Caldwell said
aloud, quite as if they had no warning of danger.
“All right, but why the heck didn’t you look before you climbed in?” Jim
grumbled. Instead of jumping out of the cock-pit in the normal fashion,
he leaped over the back, stepped onto the fuselage, then swung onto the
wing. In a moment he had pushed a button and immediately the place was a
blaze of light.
“Well, look who’s here,” Bob exclaimed in astonishment, and Jim dropped
on his stomach to look over the side.
“If it ain’t the Dolly Sisters,” he grinned.
“Blast you—” The explosion came from the contorted lips of the huge man,
one who had tried to get the wallet from Carlos’ pocket earlier that
day. Beside him, crouched to spring, and with a heavy monkey wrench
ready to bring down on some defenseless head, was the other big fellow.
“We nearly had a couple of stowaways,” Bob said cheerfully.
“Wonder if their little playmate is hanging around. Guess I’ll ring the
alarm bell at the house.” Jim proceeded to carry out the plan and in a
moment they heard a bell ringing in the distance and immediately the
windows of the great house leaped to life as lights flooded through the
darkness. They heard a sound as of a heavy body jumping off of one of
the upper verandas, then the swift scramble of racing feet. Shouts came
from every direction, and the two men in the garage seemed to be making
a terrific effort to get away, but they could barely move.
“Bet it’s the first time they touched a live wire,” Bob remarked, but
just then the power was turned off, and with a series of furious curses,
the two ruffians dashed out of the place as fast as their legs could
carry them.
“The Lab. men caught them good and proper,” Jim remarked with
satisfaction. “Reckon they were released to avoid explanations. We can
fix that up, all right.”
“Boy, Jim—Bob—”
“O.K., sir, here,” Jim shouted.
“Are you safe, are you injured—oh—”
“We’re great,” Jim answered quickly. “We thought we’d like a little ride
before we turned in, but we found two fellows out here, so we rang the
house bell to scare them off—”
“Oh, it is fortunate you did,” Carlos said quickly as he came puffing up
in his pajamas. “The bell rang, woke me up, and there was a man in my
room, just going through my pockets. He jumped so fast I could not be
positive, but I believe it was the man who asked me for the wallet this
afternoon.” Just then they heard a series of loud shots, and running
out, were in time to see a manservant, gun smoking in his hand, bring
down a chap as he leaped a high fence. The man fell and they ran to the
spot. The fellow was dead. There was no mistaking that face, and the
boys turned away a bit sick at the sight of the bleeding body.
“I got one, sir—” Another servant dragged the man who had jumped from
the veranda.
“Lock him securely until morning,” Senor de Castro ordered.
“All for an empty purse,” Carlos remarked.
“Hey—” There came another shout and a moment later two more men were
captured. One had fallen and injured his leg, but the other was unhurt.
“Look after them. Why are you men turning into such devils?”
“To get something you don’t know anything about. That wallet you’ve been
trying to kill me for is empty—there isn’t a scrap in it,” Carlos told
them. Those who could, looked at him sullenly, but the one who was hurt
snarled furiously,
“Maybe it is empty,” he rasped, “and then again, maybe it ain’t, see!”