GROSS EXAGGERATION
As the air grew more and more suffocating and the Flying Buddy slipped
off into unconsciousness he had a hazy idea that someone was moving
about him and that a queer hood, like the special gas mask the Don had
given them when they started off in the “Lark” from Texas, was slipped
over his head. When that was adjusted the pain in his throat eased and
the lids of his eyes lost their sting. It seemed to Jim as if he
remained in the great temple, which slowly grew lighter until each
object stood out distinctly. Across the floor the members of the gang
were huddled in a lifeless mass, but beside him, the bodies of the
Gonzalas lay relaxed, as if they were asleep. There was no trace of
suffering on any of their faces and he could see the woman breathing
naturally.
It was a strange sort of experience and Austin wondered if he were dead.
It made him think of a story he had once read, an odd tale of a man who
was killed and he opened his eyes into a new world where he could see
former companions and places. For a time the chap wandered like one
lost, trying to communicate with his friends, but finally he saw a more
beautiful land and hastened to enter it. But Jim decided that if he was
dead his consciousness was entirely different from the author’s fancy,
for he could not move. However, there was no feeling of discomfort. He
was perfectly content to rest and watch.
The temple room was quietly being restored to order, the upturned vases
straightened, the things the members of the gang had used to hammer or
pry off gold and jewels were gathered into a pile, and finally, when all
was re-arranged, a weird figure made its way to the Gonzalas and Jim,
who very much wanted to scream, but he couldn’t, and after that he
didn’t know anything more.
When the boy opened his eyes some time later he was lying on a very
comfortable couch on a cool terrace, and he blinked in the sunshine.
Again he remembered the strange story of the man who had been killed,
and then he was sure that he had died of suffocation in the temple room
after the door had imprisoned them, for now he was in the midst of
surroundings indescribably lovely. Some distance away he saw figures
moving about, men, women, and children, and from behind him came the
pure notes of a fine violin played by an artist. The music fitted into
the scene and phrases of it harmonized perfectly with the gurgle of
water running over stones and the hum of bees hovering above clover
blossoms. He drew a deep breath of contentment but felt no desire to
move or take a part in the leisurely activity.
From off in the sky he heard the roar of a motor as it carried one of
the air-birds through the heavens, but Jim did not bother to turn his
head. The notes of the violin blended now with the deep tones of the
plane, and it seemed to the lad as if they even picked up the whistle of
wind through the wires, only it was sweet as if the breeze played across
the strings of a great harp. Altogether he thought that heaven was a
most desirable state of consciousness and writers had never half done it
justice. Idly he tried to think of appropriate sentences which would
give earthlings a better idea of its charm and desirability, but they
were elusive and trite as they formed in his mind, so he gave up.
Then suddenly he remembered that artists always gave heaven’s residents
wings, so he raised himself on his elbow to observe this phenomenal
appendage, but if the nearest angel possessed the feathered means of
locomotion, they were folded tightly and out of sight. This was a bit
disappointing, and then Jim noticed that the particular individual he
had under observation looked strangely familiar, and a moment later he
recognized Mrs. Gonzalas, who was walking quite like a mortal about a
marvelous garden. A young chap was striding beside her, and then Jim sat
right up.
“Bob,” he called. “Gee, I’m glad to see—” The two turned quickly at the
sound of his voice and started toward him.
“Well bucking bullfrogs, did you come to at last?” Caldwell’s smile went
from ear to ear, in fact it was so wide that it went almost around his
head. “I thought you were never going to.” The Flying Buddy was beside
his pal, but there was nothing unearthly about those features. Jim was
on his feet, which wobbled uncertainly, and in a second Bob’s arm was
about him. “You take things easy for a bit, old timer and you’ll be
right as a trivet.”
“I feel great,” Austin declared—“Gee—I say, Bob—this is sort of queer,
isn’t it—I mean—” He looked at his pal uncertainly.
“It’ll straighten out fine first thing you know, old timer—be hunky
dorry—but take it easy,” Bob insisted, and he pressed the older boy back
to the couch. “Give yourself a few minutes—”
“Oh sure, I suppose so, but it’s sort of odd getting adjusted—”
“Feel badly anywhere?” Bob asked. His tone was puzzled.
“No, no, I don’t think so. I feel fine.” The two sat quietly for a few
minutes and then things began to appear less transparent. “I
say—Bob—mind telling—”
“Telling what?” Bob wanted to know.
“Oh nothing, but—I say—it’s sort of queer, isn’t it? Dad and your
mother, they’ll be kind of shot to pieces, won’t they?”
“They won’t know anything about it,” Bob answered quickly. “Not a word;
that is, not for a while.” This was a startling announcement, then Jim
decided that for some reason or other the news of the Flying Buddys’
disaster was to be kept from the family.
“I believe he still has a little fever,” Mrs. Gonzalas remarked softly
and then someone came, a glass was pressed to Jim’s lips, and tender
hands forced him to lie down on the couch. He closed his eyes again,
intending to open them immediately, and he thought he did, but it was
really hours later. This time he was in a real bed in a large
comfortable room, and he saw someone bending over him.
“Oh, hello, Ynilea.”
“Hello yourself and many of them. How do you feel?”
“Top hole, but gosh—I say I’m not dead, am I!”
“Not so that you can notice it,” Ynilea answered. “You are very much
alive, young man.”
“Yes. Funny.” Jim’s face was sober. “I dreamed I waked up on a place
like the Don’s terraced gardens and Bob was there—my Buddy—” His lip
quivered.
“Well, I was there, and I am here. I say—”
“Bob—” Jim sat right up. “You—are you alive?—”
“And how!” Bob chuckled cheerfully. “Now I know what you’ve been raving
about, old man—”
“Then it was a trick of Cardow’s or Gordon’s?”
“No—but it was a trick. We’ll tell you all about it as soon as you are
stronger.”
“I’m strong as an ox, but gosh, I’m empty as a tank.”
“That is a detail which shall be attended to pronto,” Ynilea spoke up,
and it was. A tray, prepared with the greatest care, was brought in, and
Austin was mighty glad to see it. His hand trembled a bit, but Bob
helped him and by the time the meal was finished he felt like a new man.
“Now, tell me about that—why Bob, the fellow said they dropped you on a
pile of hay and you were burned to a cinder. Now, what did happen?”
“The report of my demise, as the late Mr. Clemens put it so neatly, was
greatly exaggerated, although I do not mind telling you, my esteemed
brother, that my supposed bier was an imposing spectacle; quite
remarkable and most enjoyable—that is as a spectator. As the principal
character in the drama it might not have been quite such a treat.”
“Well, for the love o’mike, tell me about it, and don’t drag it out till
doomsday,” Jim urged.
“Delighted. You might be donning your pants while you listen, that is,
if you feel equal to doing two things at once—”
“I’ll tie the pants around your neck if you don’t start.”
“You recall that I brought the ‘Lark’ to the Lab. to have the new radio
installed and to see the latest experiments in the horticultural
laboratory. On the way up I happened to observe that I did not have the
heavens all to myself. In fact, I shared them with two rather large
planes that were decorated with right good-looking machine guns and ugly
mugs behind them.”
“Wow.”
“Same here. Then, I couldn’t shake the babies, and suddenly I realized
that the ‘Lark’ was flying all right, but she wasn’t doing a blooming
thing I told her to. Then I waked up to the fact that she was being
managed from the Lab. So I thumbed my nose to the high-command, and let
her go. She came right home, like a good girl, leaving a stream of smoke
in her trail and by way of the highest cloud bank.”
“They lost you.”
“They did. Then, of course the Lab. men, inquisitive guys as you know,
watched to see what my escort was about, and they thought up the lovely
little scheme of having me start home when I was ready, go my carefree
way, retire again to a cloud bank, and then return here to watch my
demise. The bandits chased me, in the cloud they picked up another
plane, with a charming dummy of myself at the controls, they filled the
thing full of lead, and you know the rest. I got a big kick out of it.
If you will pardon my mentioning it, it is customary to put both legs in
your pants. They set better—”
“You brat—” Jim made a dive at his step-brother, who ducked with a broad
grin. Then his face sobered. “You didn’t have such an easy time of it,
did you, old man?”
“It wasn’t exactly a path of roses,” Jim admitted. “The worst part was
when the airmen came and said they had landed you.”
“They did not let me in on it from the laboratory, but I’ve seen the
records since,” Bob said gravely. “Guess Ynilea was afraid that I could
not stand the racket.”
“Your guess is correct,” Ynilea declared. “And how are you now, Jim? We
owe you a vote of thanks for your part.” Jim flushed.
“I say, ever heard the national anthem of Siam?” he inquired and Bob
snorted, for he knew the answer.
“Perhaps I haven’t. I’ll bite, what is it?”
“O what an ass-I-am,” Jim chanted. “I never thought of you helping, not
once, but I was sort of surprised that you let them get the ‘Lark,’ and
that dynamite stuff set. You know, I was scared all over for I thought
something awful must have happened to you-all up here—that the Boss and
his gang really got you.”
“They didn’t. We got many of them, or they got themselves, but we didn’t
get the Boss, as you call him.”
“Gee, wish you’d let me have the dope,” Jim urged.
“Surely. Of course we knew when they were placing the charges, so we set
a few charges of our own. We spoiled the first set for them, and Cardow
sent for more. We spoiled that, but they did not know it. They heard a
noise and the big stone rocked out of place revealing the treasure. That
went to their heads and we hoped to have them all inside when the stone
returned to its place, but Gordon got suspicious. When he told Cardow
that he would tell the Boss it looked ‘too easy’ we were sure the big
gun would not come and walk into the trap, so we sprung it without him
or Gordon.”
“Oh. But I say—”
“A couple of us went in and put masks on you and the Gonzalas, and the
others—those who hadn’t been killed in the struggle to get away,
smothered.”
“But gee, Gordon took a pocket full of jewels—”
“When he took them out to show them, they powdered in his hand. All that
stuff was fake; arranged to make them ready to cut each other’s throats
to get it,” Ynilea explained.
“Jumping jelly fish, it surely looked like the mints of the world rolled
into one,” Jim declared.
“Didn’t it! You remember I told you once that if any of the gang
discovered one of the strongholds they would get very little?”
“Sure!” Jim nodded, then he remembered the Gonzalas. “I thought I saw
Mrs. Gonzalas here. You said that you put masks on them too—are they all
right?”
“They are and they are leaving presently. Like to see them off?”
“Sure. Jinks, they have had so many disappointments crowded into a
couple of days,” he said regretfully.
“Come along.” The Sky Buddies followed arm in arm, and soon they entered
a plain little apartment which looked exactly like hundreds of other
homes of well to do families. There was no evidence of luxury, or
anything especially marvelous, and Jim immediately guessed that the
rooms were arranged for such an emergency; a time when guests could be
in the real Amy-Ran fastness without actually seeing anything which
would appear out of the ordinary. It was like the residents of persons
of culture. When the boys and their escort entered, the three Gonzalas
were just finishing luncheon, and they rose quickly at sight of Jim.
“You are safe and well,” Mrs. Gonzalas’ eyes filled with tears, but she
blinked them back. “Into great trouble we got you.”
“We rejoice that the fresh air which came through the crack helped to
keep you alive until these men got us out. The others are dead. It is a
good thing. They are wicked,” Pedro said earnestly, and Jim realized
that the little family thought they understood how they happened to be
saved.
“I prayed to the Mother of God and she helped us,” Mrs. Gonzalas said
softly.
“She surely did,” Jim declared.
“We are leaving for home—”
“There is one question that I wanted to ask you,” Ynilea interposed. “In
your preparations for the search of the platinum did you spend all your
savings?”
“Yes, and on the home we put a mortgage,” Pedro admitted. “It was very
foolish.”
“Well, as I explained, much of the stuff that was in the ancient temple
for so many years, crumbled as soon as the air got to it, but there are
a few hard stones which had not deteriorated in the course of time. You
have suffered greatly, and I should like to present them to Mrs.
Gonzalas.” He produced a small leather pouch and put it into her hand.
She gave a startled gasp and stared at her husband.
“You have done too much for us—”
“_You_ deserve the reward,” Arto added quickly.
“It was a pleasure. I am a quiet man and have plenty for the rest of my
life. You have a little son. This will, I hope assist you to pay the
mortgage and give him an education. Do keep it,” Ynilea insisted, and he
refused to take it back.
“Go ahead, take it, then you won’t need to go off hunting again for
platinum. There isn’t much of it in these mountains anyway. I heard that
on the best authority only a few days ago,” said Jim.
“You are most good.” They accepted the gift and the Flying Buddies were
so glad about it that they would have liked to do a highland fling. A
bit later, the Gonzalas sailed off in a plane for Cuzco, and as long as
the machine remained in sight, they could see the brothers and the woman
waving happily.
“O migosh, do the De Castros know we are alive?” Jim asked.
“They do, and they do not know that their plane was smashed. We have
sent one to replace it. The Don said to do that and it will save no end
of explanations,” Bob answered.
“Well, then, that’s that—oh,” he turned to Ynilea—“Do you know anything
about that platinum deposit that started all this rumpus?”
“A little. We have a place where it is washed. Can you guess what we did
when it was discovered?”
“Let me see—did you get it away, or cover it over?”
“Bet I can guess,” Bob chuckled. “You made a dry fork out of a wet one
by switching the streams about. Don’t you remember, old man, the
irrigating system, and all that, you know, these fellows were masters of
water supply when Moses took to the bullrushes.”
“Great guns,” Jim laughed. “Of course, well—”
“We will now join Mr. Austin in the chorus of the national anthem of
Siam,” Bob shouted.