The Motor Boys in Mexico; Or, The Secret of the Buried City (Book 3)
Preface/Chapter I. - The Professor in Trouble (v-8)
PREFACE.
Dear Boys:
At last I am able to give you the third volume of “The Motor Boys Series,” a line of books relating the doings of several wide-awake lads on wheels, in and around their homes and in foreign lands.
The first volume of this series, called “The Motor Boys,” told how Ned, Bob and Jerry became the proud possessors of motor-cycles, and won several races of importance, including one which gave to them, something that they desired with all their hearts, a big automobile touring car.
Having obtained the automobile, the lads were not content until they arranged for a long trip to the great West, as told in “The Motor Boys Overland.” On the way they fell in with an old miner, who held the secret concerning the location of a lost gold mine, and it was for this mine that they headed, beating out some rivals who were also their bitter enemies.
While at the mine the boys, through a learned professor, learned of a buried city in Mexico, said to contain treasures of vast importance. Their curiosity was fired, and they arranged to go to Mexico in their touring car, and the present volume tells how this trip was accomplished.
Being something of an automobile enthusiast myself, it has pleased me greatly to write this story, and I hope the boys will like “The Motor Boys in Mexico” fully as well as they appeared to enjoy “The Motor Boys” and “The Motor Boys Overland.”
Clarence Young.
May 28, 1906.
THE MOTOR BOYS IN MEXICO.
CHAPTER I.
THE PROFESSOR IN TROUBLE.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!”
It was the sound of a big revolver being fired rapidly.
“Hi, there! Who you shootin’ at?” yelled a voice.
Miners ran from rude shacks and huts to see what the trouble was. Down the valley, in front of a log cabin, there was a cloud of smoke.
“Who’s killed? What’s the matter? Is it a fight?” were questions the men asked rapidly of each other. Down by the cabin whence the shots sounded, and where the white vapor was rolling away, a Chinaman was observed dancing about on one foot, holding the other in his hands.
“What is it?” asked a tall, bronzed youth, coming from his cabin near the shaft of a mine on top of a small hill. “Cowboys shooting the town up?”
“I guess it’s only a case of a Chinaman fooling with a gun, Jerry. Shall I run down and take a look?” asked a fat, jolly, good-natured-looking lad.
“Might as well, Chunky,” said the other. “Then come back and tell Ned and me. My, but it’s warm!”
The stout youth, whom his companion had called Chunky, in reference to his stoutness, hurried down toward the cabin, about which a number of the miners were gathering. In a little while he returned.
“That was it,” he said. “Dan Beard’s Chinese cook got hold of a revolver and wanted to see how it worked. He found out.”
“Is he much hurt?” asked a third youth, who had joined the one addressed as Jerry, in the cabin door.
“One bullet hit his big toe, but he’s more scared than injured. He yelled as if he was killed, Ned.”
“Well, if that’s all the excitement, I’m going in and finish the letter I was writing to the folks at home,” remarked Jerry. The other lads entered the cabin with him, and soon all three were busy writing or reading notes, for one mail had come in and another was shortly to leave the mining camp.
It was a bright day, early in November, though the air was as hot as if it was mid-summer, for the valley, which contained the gold diggings, was located in the southern part of Arizona, and the sun fairly burned as it blazed down.
The three boys, who had gone back into their cabin when the excitement following the accidental shooting of the Chinaman had died away, were Jerry Hopkins, Bob Baker and Ned Slade. Bob was the son of Andrew Baker, a wealthy banker; Ned’s father was a well-to-do merchant, and Jerry was the son of a widow, Julia Hopkins. All of the boys lived in Cresville, Mass., a town not far from Boston.
The three boys had been chums through thick and thin for as many years as they could remember. A strange combination of circumstances had brought them to Arizona, where, in company with Jim Nestor, an old western miner, they had discovered a rich gold mine that had been lost for many years.
“There, my letter’s finished,” announced Jerry, about half an hour after the incident of the shooting.
“I had mine done an hour ago,” said Ned.
“Let’s run into town in the auto and mail them. We need some supplies, anyhow,” suggested Bob.
“All right,” assented the others.
The three boys went to the shed where their touring car, a big, red machine in which they had come West, was stored. Ned cranked up, and with a rattle, rumble and bang of the exhaust, the car started off, carrying the three lads to Rockyford, a town about ten miles from the gold diggings.
“I wonder if we’ll ever see Noddy Nixon or Jack Pender again?” asked Bob, when the auto had covered about three miles.
“And you might as well say Bill Berry and Tom Dalsett,” put in Jerry. “They all got away together. I don’t believe in looking on the dark side of things, but I’m afraid we’ll have trouble yet with that quartette.”
“They certainly got away in great shape,” said Bob. “I’ll give Noddy credit for that, if he is a mean bully.”
Noddy Nixon was an old enemy of the three chums. As has been told in the story of “The Motor Boys,” the first book of this series, Jerry, Ned and Bob, when at home in Massachusetts, had motor-cycles and used to go on long trips together, on several of which they met Noddy Nixon, Jack Pender and Bill Berry, a town ne’er-do-well, with no very pleasant results. The boys had been able to secure their motor-cycles through winning prizes at a bicycle race, in which Noddy was beaten. This made him more than ever an enemy of the Motor Boys.
The latter, after having many adventures on their small machines, entered a motor-cycle race. In this they were again successful, defeating some crack riders, and the prize this time was a big, red touring automobile, the same they were now using.
Once they had an auto they decided on a trip across the continent, and their doings on that journey are recorded in the second book of this series, entitled “The Motor Boys Overland.”
It was while out riding in their auto in Cresville one evening that they came across a wounded miner in a hut. He turned out to be Jim Nestor, who knew the secret of a lost mine in Arizona. While sick in the hut, Nestor was robbed of some gold he carried in a belt. Jack Pender was the thief, and got away, although the Motor Boys chased him.
With Nestor as a guide, the boys set out to find the lost mine. On the way they had many adventures with wild cowboys and stampeded cattle, while once the auto caught fire.
They made the acquaintance, on the prairies, of Professor Uriah Snodgrass, a collector of bugs, stones and all sorts of material for college museums, for he was a naturalist. They succeeded in rescuing the professor from a mob of cowboys, who, under the impression that the naturalist had stolen one of their horses, were about to hang him. The professor went with the boys and Nestor to the mine, and was still with them.
The gold claim was not easily won. Noddy Nixon, Pender, Berry and one Pud Stoneham, a gambler, aided by Tom Dalsett, who used to work for Nestor, attacked the Motor Boys and their friends and tried to get the mine away from them.
However, Jerry and his friends won out, the sheriff arrested Stoneham for several crimes committed, and the others fled in Noddy’s auto, which he had stolen from his father, for Noddy had left home because it was discovered that he had robbed the Cresville iron mill of one thousand dollars, which crime Jerry and his two chums had discovered and fastened on the bully.
So it was no small wonder, after all the trouble Noddy and his gang had caused, that Jerry felt he and his friends might hear more of their unpleasant acquaintances. Noddy, Jerry knew, was not one to give up an object easily.
In due time town was reached, the letters were mailed, and the supplies purchased. Then the auto was headed back toward camp. About five miles from the gold diggings, Ned, who sat on the front seat with Bob, who was steering, called out:
“Hark! Don’t you hear some one shouting?”
Bob shut off the power and, in the silence which ensued, the boys heard a faint call.
“Help! Help! Help!”
“It’s over to the left,” said Ned.
“No; it’s to the right, up on top of that hill,” announced Jerry.
They all listened intently, and it was evident that Jerry was correct. The cries could be heard a little more plainly now.
“Help! Hurry up and help!” called the voice. “I’m down in a hole!”
The boys jumped from the auto and ran to the top of the hill. At the summit they found an abandoned mine shaft. Leaning over this they heard groans issuing from it, and more cries for aid.
“Who’s there?” asked Jerry.
“Professor Uriah Snodgrass, A. M., Ph.D., F. R. G. S., B. A. and A. B. H.”
“Our old friend, the professor!” exclaimed Ned. “How did you ever get there?” he called down the shaft.
“Never mind how I got here, my dear young friend,” expostulated the professor, “but please be so kind as to help me out. I came down a ladder, but the wood was rotten, and when I tried to climb out, the rungs broke. Have you a rope?”
“Run back to the machine and get one,” said Jerry to Bob. “We’ll have to pull him up, just as we did the day he fell over the cliff.”
In a few minutes Bob came back with the rope. A noose was made in one end and this was lowered to the professor.
“Put it around your chest, under your arms, and we will haul you up,” said Jerry.
“I can’t!” cried the professor.
“Why not?”
“Can’t use my hands.”
“Are your arms broken?” asked the boy, afraid lest his friend had met with an injury.
“No, my dear young friend, my arms are not broken. I am not hurt at all.”
“Then, why can’t you put the rope under your arms?”
“Because I have a very rare specimen of a big, red lizard in one hand, and a strange kind of a bat in the other. They are both alive, and if I let them go to fix the rope they’ll get away, and they’re worth five hundred dollars each. I’d rather stay here all my life than lose these specimens.”
“How will we ever get him up?” asked Bob.
Chapter II. - The Professor's Story (9-169
CHAPTER II.
THE PROFESSOR’S STORY.
For a little while it did seem like a hard proposition. The professor could not, or rather would not, aid himself. Once the rope was around him it would be an easy matter for the boys to haul him out of the hole.
“If we could lasso him it would be the proper thing,” said Bob.
“I have it!” exclaimed Ned.
He began pulling up the rope from where it dangled down into the abandoned shaft.
“What are you going to do?” asked Jerry.
“I’ll show you,” replied Ned, adjusting the rope around his chest, under his arms. “Now if you two will lower me into the hole I’ll fasten this cable on the professor and you can haul him up. Then you can yank me out, and it will be killing two birds with one stone.”
“More like hanging two people with one rope,” laughed Bob.
But Ned’s plan was voted a good one. Jerry and Bob lowered him carefully down the shaft, until the slacking of the rope told that he was at the bottom. In a little while they heard a shout:
“Haul away!”
It was quite a pull for the two boys, for, though the professor was a small man, he was no lightweight. Hand over hand the cable was hauled until, at last, the shining bald head of the naturalist was observed emerging from the black hole of the abandoned mine.
“Easy, easy, boys!” he cautioned, as soon as his chin was above the surface. “I’ve got two rare specimens with me, and I don’t want them harmed.”
When Jerry and Bob had pulled Professor Snodgrass up as far as possible, by means of the rope, the naturalist rested his elbows on the edge of the shaft and wiggled the rest of the way out by his own efforts. In one hand was a big lizard, struggling to escape, and in the other was a large bat, flapping its uncanny wings.
“Ah, I have you safe, my beauties!” exclaimed the collector. “You can’t get away from me now!” He placed the reptile and bat in his green specimen-box, which was on the ground a short distance away, his face beaming with pride over his achievement, though in queer contrast to his disordered appearance, for he had fallen in the mud of the mine, his clothes were all dirt, his hat was gone and he looked as ruffled as a wet hen.
“Much obliged to you, boys,” he said, coming over to Bob and Jerry. “I might have stayed there forever if you hadn’t come along. Seems as though I am always getting into trouble. Do you remember the day I fell over the cliff with Broswick and Nestor, and you pulled us up with the auto?”
“I would say we did,” replied Jerry. “But now we must pull Ned up.”
Once more the rope was lowered down the shaft and in a few minutes Ned was hauled up safely.
“It’s almost as deep as our mine shaft,” he said, as he brushed the dirt from his clothes, “but I didn’t see any gold there, for it’s as dark as a pocket. How did you come to go down, professor?”
“I suspected I might get some specimens in such a place,” replied the naturalist, “so I just went down, and I had excellent luck, most excellent!”
“It’s a good thing you think so,” put in Jerry. “Most people would call it bad to get caught at the bottom of a mine shaft.”
“Oh, it wasn’t so bad,” went on the professor, casting his eyes over the ground in search of any stray specimens of snakes or bugs. “I had my candle with me until I lost it, just after I caught the lizard and bat. I could have come up all right if the ladder hadn’t broken. It was quite a hole, for a fact. It reminds me of another big hole I once heard about.”
“What hole is that?” asked Ned.
“Oh, that’s quite a story, all about mysteries, buried cities and all that.”
“Tell us about it,” suggested Jerry.
“To-night, maybe,” answered the naturalist. “I want to get back to camp now and attend to my specimens.”
The boys and the professor, the latter carrying his box of curiosities, were soon in the auto and speeding back to the gold mine.
That night, sitting around the camp-fire, which blazed cheerfully, the boys asked Professor Snodgrass to tell them the story he had hinted at when they hauled him from the mine shaft.
“Let me listen, too,” said Jim Nestor, filling his pipe and stretching out on the grass.
Then, in the silence of the early night, broken only by the crackle of the flames and the distantly heard hoot of owls or howl of foxes, the naturalist told what he knew of a buried city of ancient Mexico.
“It was some years ago,” he began, “that a friend of mine, a young college professor, was traveling in Mexico. He visited all the big places and then, getting tired of seeing the things that travelers usually see, he struck out into the wilds, accompanied only by an old Mexican guide.
“He traveled for nearly a week, getting farther and farther away from civilization, until one night he found himself on a big level plain, at the extreme end of which there was a curiously shaped mountain.
“He proposed to his guide that they camp for the night and proceed to the mountain the next day. The guide assented, but he acted so queerly that my friend wondered what the matter was. He questioned his companion, but all he could get out of him was that the mountain was considered a sort of unlucky place, and no one went there who could avoid it.
“This made my friend all the more anxious to see what might be there, and he announced his intention of making the journey in the morning. He did so, but he had to go alone, for, during the night, his guide deserted him.”
“And what did he find at the mountain?” asked Bob. “A gold mine?”
“Not exactly,” replied the professor.
“Maybe it was a silver lode,” suggested Nestor. “There’s plenty of silver in Mexico.”
“It wasn’t a silver mine, either,” went on the professor. “All he found was a big hole in the side of the mountain. He went inside and walked for nearly a mile, his only light being a candle. Then he came to a wall of rock. He was about to turn back, when he noticed an opening in the wall. It was high up, but he built a platform of stones up and peered through the opening.”
“What did he see?” asked Jerry.
“The remains of an ancient, buried city,” replied Professor Snodgrass. “The mountain was nothing more than a big mound of earth, with an opening in the top, through which daylight entered. The shaft through the side led to the edge of the city. My friend gazed in on the remains of a place thousands of years old. The buildings were mostly in ruins, but they showed they had once been of great size and beauty. There were wide streets with what had been fountains in them. There was not a vestige of a living creature. It was as if some pestilence had fallen on the place and the people had all left.”
“Did he crawl through the hole in the wall and go into the deserted city?” asked Nestor, with keen interest.
“He wanted to,” answered the naturalist, “but he thought it would be risky, alone as he was. So he made a rough map of as much of the place as he could see, including his route in traveling to the mountain. Then he retraced his steps, intending to organize a searching party of scientists and examine the buried city.”
“Did he do it?” came from Bob, who was listening eagerly.
“No. Unfortunately, he was taken ill with a fever as soon as he got back to civilization, and he died shortly afterward.”
“Too bad,” murmured Jerry. “It would have been a great thing to have given to the world news of such a place in Mexico. It’s all lost now.”
“Not all,” said the professor, in a queer voice.
“Why not? Didn’t you say your friend died?”
“Yes; but before he expired he told me the story and gave me the map.”
“Where is it?” asked Nestor, sitting up and dropping his pipe in his excitement.
“There!” exclaimed the professor, extending a piece of paper, which he had brought forth from his possessions.
Eagerly, they all bent forward to examine the map in the light of the camp-fire. The drawing was crude enough, and showed that the buried city lay to the east of the chain of Sierra Madre Mountains, and about five hundred miles to the north of the City of Mexico.
“There’s the place,” said the professor, pointing with his finger to the buried city. “How I wish I could go there! It has always been my desire to follow the footsteps of my unfortunate friend. Perhaps I might discover the buried city. I could investigate it, make discoveries and write a book about it. That would be the height of my ambition. But I’m afraid I’ll never be able to do it.”
For a few minutes there was silence about the camp-fire, each one thinking of the mysterious city that was not so very many miles from them.
Suddenly Ned jumped to his feet and gave a yell.
“Whoop!” he cried. “I have it! It will be the very thing!”
Chapter III. - News of Noddy Nixon (17-23)
CHAPTER III.
NEWS OF NODDY NIXON.
“What’s the matter? Bit by a kissin’ bug?” asked Nestor, as Ned was capering about.
“Nope! I’m going to find that buried city,” replied Ned.
“He’s loony!” exclaimed the miner. “He’s been sleepin’ in the moonlight. That’s a bad thing to do, Ned.”
“I’m not crazy,” spoke the boy. “I have a plan. If you don’t want to listen to it, all right,” and he started for the cabin.
“What is it, tell us, will you?” came from the professor, who was in earnest about everything.
“I just thought we might make a trip to Mexico in the automobile, and hunt for that lost city,” said Ned. “We could easily make the trip. It would be fun, even if we didn’t find the place, and the gold mine is now in good shape, so that we could leave, isn’t it, Jim?”
“Oh, I can run the mine, all right,” spoke Nestor. “If you boys want to go traipsin’ off to Mexico, why, go ahead, as far as I’m concerned. Better ask your folks first, though. I reckon you an’ the professor could make the trip, easy enough, but I won’t gamble on your finding the buried city, for I’ve heard such stories before, an’ they don’t very often come true.”
“Dearly as I would like to make the trip in the automobile, and sure as I feel that we could do it, I think we had better sleep on the plan,” said Professor Snodgrass. “If you are of the same mind in the morning we will consider it further.”
“I’d like to go, first rate,” came from Jerry.
“Same here,” put in Bob.
That night each of the boys dreamed of walking about in some ancient towns, where the buildings were of gold and silver, set with diamonds, and where the tramp of soldiers’ feet resounded on the paved courtyards of the palaces of the Montezumas.
“Waal,” began Nestor, who was up early, making the coffee, when the boys turned out of their bunks, “air ye goin’ to start for Mexico to-day, or wait till to-morrow?”
“Don’t you think we could make the trip?” asked Jerry, seriously.
“Oh, you can make it, all right, but you’ll have troubles. In the first place, Mexico ain’t the United States, an’ there’s a queer lot of people, mostly bad, down there. You’ll have to be on the watch all the while, but if you’re careful I guess you’ll git along. But come on, now, help git breakfust.”
Through the meal, though the boys talked little, it was evident they were thinking of nothing but the trip to Mexico.
“I’m going to write home now and find if I can go,” said Ned.
Jerry and Bob said they would do the same, and soon three letters were ready to be sent.
After their usual round of duties at the mine, which consisted in making out reports, dealing out supplies, and checking up the loads of ore, the boys went to town in the auto to mail their letters. It was a pleasant day for the trip, and they made good time.
“It will be just fine if we can go,” said Bob. “Think of it, we may find the buried city and discover the stores of gold hidden by the inhabitants.”
“I guess all the gold the Mexicans ever had was gobbled up by the Spaniards,” put in Jerry.
“But we may find a store of curios, relics and other things worth more than gold,” added Ned. “If we take the professor with us that’s what he would care about more than money. I do hope we can go.”
“It’s going to be harder to find than the lost gold mine was,” said Jerry. “That map the professor has isn’t much to go by.”
“Oh, it will be fun hunting for the place,” went on Bob. “We may find the city before we know it.”
In due time the boys reached town and mailed their letters. There was some excitement in the village over a robbery that had occurred, and the sheriff was organizing a posse to go in search of a band of horse thieves.
“Don’t you want to go ’long?” asked the official of the boys, whom he knew from having aided them in the battle at the mine against Noddy Nixon and his friends some time before. “Come along in the choo-choo wagon. I’ll swear you in as special deputies.”
“No, thanks, just the same,” Jerry said. “We are pretty busy up at the diggings and can’t spare the time.”
“Like to have you,” went on the sheriff, genially. “You could make good time in the gasolene gig after those hoss thieves.”
But the boys declined. They had been through enough excitement in securing the gold mine to last them for a while.
“We must stop at the store and get some bacon,” said Ned. “Nestor told me as we were coming away. There’s none at the camp.”
Bidding the sheriff good-by, and waiting until he had ridden off at the head of his forces, the boys turned their auto toward the general store, located on the main street of Rockyford.
“Howdy, lads!” exclaimed the proprietor, as he came to the door to greet them. “What is it to-day, gasolene or cylinder oil?”
“Bacon,” replied Jerry.
“Got some prime,” the merchant said. “Best that ever come off a pig. How much do you want?”
“Twenty pounds will do this time,” answered Jerry. “We may not be here long, and we don’t want to stock up too heavily.”
“You ain’t thinkin’ of goin’ back East, are ye?” exclaimed the storekeeper.
“More likely to go South,” put in Ned. “We were thinking of Mexico.”
“You don’t say so!” cried the vendor of bacon and other sundries. “Got another gold mine in sight down there?”
“No; but——” and then Ned subsided, at a warning punch in the side from Jerry, who was not anxious to have the half-formed plans made public.
“You was sayin’——” began the storekeeper, as if desirous of hearing more.
“Oh, we may take a little vacation trip down into Mexico,” said Jerry, in a careless tone. “We’ve been working pretty hard and we need a rest. But nothing has been decided yet.”
“Mexico must be quite a nice place,” went on the merchant.
“What makes you think so?” asked Bob.
“I heard of another automobilin’ party that went there not long ago.”
“Who was it?” spoke Jerry.
“Some chap named Dixon or Pixon or Sixon, I forget exactly what it was.”
“Was it Nixon?” asked Jerry.
“That’s it! Noddy Nixon, I remember now. He had a chap with him named Perry or Ferry or Kerry or——”
“Bill Berry, maybe,” suggested Bob.
“That was it! Berry. Queer what a poor memory I have for names. And there was another with him. Let’s see, I have it; no, that wasn’t it. Oh, yes, Hensett!”
“You mean Dalsett,” put in Ned.
“That’s it! Dalsett! And there was another named Jack Pender. There, I bet I’ve got that right.”
“You have,” said Jerry. “You say they went to Mexico?”
“You see, it was this way,” the storekeeper went on. “It was about three weeks ago. They come up in a big automobile, like yours, an’ bought a lot of stuff. I kind of hinted to find out where they was headed for, an’ all the satisfaction I got was that that there Nixon feller says as how he guessed Mexico would be the best place for them, as the United States Government hadn’t no control down there. Then one of the others says Mexico would suit him. So I guess they went. Now, is there anything else I can let you have?”
“Thanks, this will be all,” replied Jerry, paying for the bacon.
The boys waited until they were some distance on the road before they spoke about the news the storekeeper had told them.
“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Noddy and his gang had gone to Mexico,” said Ned. “That’s the safest place for them, after what they did.”
“I wish they weren’t there, if we are to take a trip in that country,” put in Bob.
“It’s a big place, I guess they won’t bother us,” came from Jerry.
But he was soon to find that Mexico was not big enough to keep Noddy and his crowd from making much trouble and no little danger for him and his friends.
They arrived at camp early in the afternoon and told Nestor the news they had heard. He did not attach much importance to it, as he was busy over an order for new mining machinery.
There was plenty for the boys to do about camp, and soon they were so occupied that they almost forgot there was such a place as Mexico.
Chapter IV. - Over the Rio Grande (24-31)
CHAPTER IV.
OVER THE RIO GRANDE.
A week later, during which there had been busy days at the mining camp, the boys received answers to their letters. They came in the shape of telegrams, for the lads had asked their parents to wire instead of waiting to write. Each one received permission to make the trip into the land of the Montezumas.
“Hurrah!” yelled Bob, making an ineffectual attempt to turn a somersault, and coming down all in a heap.
“What’s the matter?” asked Nestor, coming out of the cabin. “Wasp sting ye?”
“We can go to Mexico!” cried Ned, waving the telegram.
“Same thing,” replied the miner. “Ye’ll git bit by sand fleas, tarantulas, scorpions, centipedes, horse-flies an’ rattlesnakes, down there. Better stay here.”
“Is it as bad as that?” asked Bob.
“If it is I’ll get the finest collection of bugs the college ever saw,” put in Professor Snodgrass.
“Well, it may not be quite as bad, but it’s bad enough,” qualified Nestor. “But don’t let me discourage you. Go ahead, this is a free country.”
So it was arranged. The boys decided they would start in three days, taking the professor with them.
“And we’ll find that buried city if it’s there,” put in Ned.
The next few days were busy ones. At Nestor’s suggestion each one of the boys had a stout money-belt made, in which they could carry their cash strapped about their waists. They were going into a wild country, the miner told them, where the rights of people were sometimes disregarded.
Then the auto was given a thorough overhauling, new tires were put on the rear wheels, and a good supply of ammunition was packed up. In addition, many supplies were loaded into the machine, and Professor Snodgrass got an enlarged box made for his specimens, as well as two new butterfly nets.
The boys invested in stout shoes and leggins, for they felt they might have to make some explorations in a wild country. A good camp cooking outfit was taken along, and many articles that Nestor said would be of service during the trip.
“Your best way to go,” said the miner, “will be to scoot along back into New Mexico for a ways, then take over into Texas, and strike the Rio Grande below where the Conchas River flows into it. This will save you a lot of mountain climbing an’ give you a better place to cross the Rio Grande. At a place about ten miles below the Conchas there is a fine flat-boat ferriage. You can take the machine over on that.”
The boys promised to follow this route. Final preparations were made, letters were written home, the auto was gone over for the tenth time by Jerry, and having received five hundred dollars each from Nestor, as their share in the mine receipts up to the time they left, they started off with a tooting of the auto horn.
“That’s more money than I ever had at one time before,” said Bob, patting his money-belt as he settled himself comfortably down in the rear seat of the car, beside Professor Snodgrass.
“Money is no good,” said the naturalist.
“No good?”
“No; I’d rather catch a pink and blue striped sand flea, which is the rarest kind that exists, than have all the money in the world. If I can get one of them or even a purple muskrat, and find the buried city, that will be all I want on this earth.”
“I certainly hope we find the buried city,” spoke up Ned, who was listening to the conversation, “but I wouldn’t care much for a purple muskrat.”
“Well, every one to his taste,” said the professor. “We may find both.”
The journey, which was to prove a long one, full of surprises and dangers, was now fairly begun. The auto hummed along the road, making fast time.
That night the adventurers spent in a little town in New Mexico. Their arrival created no little excitement, as it was the first time an auto had been in that section. Such a crowd of miners and cowboys surrounded the machine that Jerry, who was steering, had to shut off the power in a hurry to avoid running one man down.
“I thought maybe ye could jump th’ critter over me jest like they do circus hosses,” explained the one who had nearly been hit by the car. Jerry laughingly disclaimed any such powers of the machine.
Two days later found them in Texas, and, recalling Nestor’s directions about crossing the Rio Grande, they kept on down the banks of that mighty river until they passed the junction where the Conchas flows in.
So far the trip had been without accident. The machine ran well and there was no trouble with the mechanism or the tires. Just at dusk, one night, they came to a small settlement on the Rio Grande. They rode through the town until they came to a sort of house-boat on the edge of the stream. A sign over the entrance bore the words:
Ferry Here.
“This is the place we’re looking for, I guess,” said Jerry. He drove the machine up to the entrance and brought it to a stop. A dark-featured man, with a big scar down one side of his face, slouched to the door.
“Well?” he growled.
“We’d like to be ferried over to the other side,” spoke Jerry.
“Come to-morrow,” snarled the man. “We don’t work after five o’clock.”
“But we’d like very much to get over to-night,” went on Jerry. “And if it’s any extra trouble we’d be willing to pay for it.”
“That’s the way with you rich chaps that rides around in them horseless wagons,” went on the ferrymaster. “Ye think a man has got to be at yer beck an’ call all the while. I’ll take ye over, but it’ll cost ye ten dollars.”
“We’ll pay it,” said Jerry, for he observed a crowd of rough men gathering, whose looks he did not like, and he thought he and his friends would be better off on the other side of the stream, on Mexican territory.
“Must be in a bunch of hurry,” growled the man. “Ain’t tryin’ to git away from th’ law, be ye?”
“Not that we know of,” laughed Jerry.
“Looks mighty suspicious,” snarled the man. “But, come on. Run yer shebang down on the boat, an’ go careful or you’ll go through the bottom. The craft ain’t built to carry locomotives.”
Jerry steered the car down a slight incline onto a big flat boat, where it was blocked by chunks of wood so that it could not roll forward or backward.
By this time the ferrymaster and his crew had come down to the craft. They were all rather unpleasant-looking men, with bold, hard faces, and it was evident that each one of the five, who made up the force that rowed the boat across the stream, was heavily armed. They wore bowie-knives and carried two revolvers apiece.
But the sight of armed men was no new one to the boys since their experience in the mining camp, and they had come to know that the chap who made the biggest display of an arsenal was usually the one who was the biggest coward, seldom having use for a gun or a knife.
“All ready?” growled the ferryman.
“All ready,” called Jerry. He and the other boys, with the professor, had alighted from the auto and stood beside it on the flat boat.
Pulling on the long sweeps, the men sent the boat out into the stream, which, at this point, was about a mile wide. Once beyond the shore the force of the current made itself felt, and it was no easy matter to keep the boat headed right.
Every now and then the ferryman would cast anxious looks at the sky, and several times he urged the men to row faster.
“Do you think it is going to storm, my dear friend?” asked the professor, in a kindly and gentle voice.
“Think it, ye little bald-headed runt! I know it is!” exploded the man. “And if it ketches us out here there’s goin’ to be trouble.”
The sky was blacking up with heavy clouds, and the wind began to blow with considerable force. The boat seemed to make little headway, though the men strained at the long oars.
“Row, ye lazy dogs!” exclaimed the pilot. “Do ye want to upset with this steam engine aboard? Row, if ye want to git ashore!”
The men fairly bent the stout sweeps. The wind increased in violence, and quite high waves rocked the ferryboat. The sky was getting blacker. Jagged lightning came from the clouds, and the rumble of thunder could be heard.
“Row, I tell ye! Row!” yelled the pilot, but the men could do no more than they were doing. The big boat tossed and rocked, and the automobile started to slide forward.
“Fasten it with a rope!” cried Jerry, and aided by his companions they lashed the car fast.
“Look out! We’re in for it now!” shouted the ferryman. “Here comes the storm!”
With a wild burst of sky artillery, the clouds opened amid a dazzling electrical display, and the rain came down in torrents. At the same time the wind increased to hurricane force, driving the boat before it like a cork on the waves.
Three of the men lost their oars, and the craft, with no steerage way, was tossed from side to side. Then, as there came a stronger blast of the gale, the boat was driven straight ahead.
“We’re going to hit something!” yelled Jerry, peering through the mist of rain. “Hold fast, everybody!”
The next instant there was a resounding crash, and the sound of breaking and splintering wood.
Chapter V. - A Thief in the Night (32-40)
CHAPTER V.
A THIEF IN THE NIGHT.
The shock was so hard that every one on the ferryboat was knocked down, and the auto, breaking from the restraining ropes, ran forward and brought up against the shelving prow of the scow.
“Here, where you fellers goin’?” demanded a voice from amid the scene of wreckage and confusion. “What do ye mean by tryin’ t’ smash me all to splinters?”
At the same time this remonstrance was accompanied by several revolver shots. Then came a volley of language in choice Spanish, and the noise of several men chopping away at planks and boards.
The wind continued to blow and the rain to fall, while the lightning and thunder were worse than before. But the ferryboat no longer tossed and pitched on the storm-lashed river. It remained stationary.
“Now we’re in for it,” shouted the ferryman, as soon as he had scrambled to his feet. “A nice kettle of fish I’m in for takin’ this automobile over on my boat!”
“What has happened?” asked Jerry, trying to look through the mist of falling rain, and seeing nothing but a black object, as large as a house, looming up before him.
“Matter!” exclaimed the pilot. “We’ve gone and smashed plumb into Don Alvarzo’s house-boat and done no end of damage. Wait until he makes you fellers pay for it.”
“It wasn’t our fault,” began Jerry. “You were in charge of the ferryboat. We are only passengers. Besides, we couldn’t stop the storm from coming up.”
“Tell that to Don Alvarzo,” sneered the ferryman. “Maybe he’ll believe you. But here he comes himself, and we can see what has happened.”
Several Mexicans bearing lanterns now approached. At their head was a tall, swarthy man, wearing a big cloak picturesquely draped over his shoulders, velvet trousers laced with silver, and a big sombrero.
By the lantern light it could be seen that the ferryboat had jammed head-on against the side of a large house-boat moored on the Mexican side of the Rio Grande. So hard had the scow rammed the other craft that the two were held together by a mass of splintered wood, the front of the ferryboat breaking a hole in the side of the house-boat and sticking there. The automobile had nearly gone overboard.
Don Alvarzo began to speak quickly in Spanish, pointing to the damage done.
“I beg your pardon,” said Jerry, taking off his cap and bowing in spite of the rain that was still coming down in torrents. “I beg your pardon, señor, but if you would be so kind as to speak in English we could understand it better.”
“Certainly, my dear young sir,” replied Don Alvarzo, bowing in his turn, determined not to be outdone by an Americano. “I speak English also. But what is this? Diablo! I am taking my meal on my house-boat. I smoke my cigarette, and am thankful that I am not out in the storm. Presto! There comes a crash like unto that the end of the world is nigh! I rise! I run! I fire my revolver, thinking it may be robbers! My Americano manager he calls out! Now, if you please, what is it all about?”
“The storm got the best of the ferryboat,” said Jerry. “My friends and myself, including Professor Uriah Snodgrass, of whom you may have heard, for he is a great scientist——”
“I salute the professor,” interrupted Don Alvarzo, bowing to the naturalist.
“Well, we are going to make a trip through Mexico,” went on Jerry. “We engaged this man,” pointing to the ferrymaster, “to take us over the river in his boat. Unfortunately we crashed into yours. It was not our fault.”
Angry cries from the Mexicans who stood in a half circle about Don Alvarzo on the deck of the house-boat showed that they understood this talk, but did not approve of it.
“Americanos pigs! Make pay!” called out one man.
“We’re not pigs, and if this accident is our fault we will pay at once,” said Jerry, hotly.
“There, there, señor,” said the Don, motioning to his man to be quiet. “We will consider this. It appears that you are merely passengers on the ferryboat. The craft was in charge of Señor Jenkins, there, whom I very well know. He will pay me for the damage, I am sure.”
“You never made a bigger mistake in your life!” exclaimed Jenkins. “If there’s any payin’ to be done, these here automobile fellers will have to do it. I’m out of pocket now with chargin’ ’em only ten dollars, for three of my oars are lost.”
“Very well, then, we will let the law take its course,” said the Don. “Here!” he called to his men, “take the ferry captain into custody. We’ll see who is to pay.”
“Rather than have trouble and delay we would be willing to settle for the damages,” spoke up Jerry. “How much is it?”
“I will have to refer you to Señor Jones, my manager,” said the Mexican.
“What’s all the row about?” interrupted a voice, and a tall, lanky man came forward into the circle of lantern light. “People can’t expect to smash boats an’ not pay for ’em.”
“We are perfectly willing to pay,” said Jerry.
“Well, if there ain’t my old friend Professor Snodgrass!” cried Jones, jumping down on the flat-boat and shaking hands with the naturalist. “Well, well, this is a sight for sore eyes. I ain’t seen ye since I was janitor in your laboratory in Wellville College. How are ye?”
The professor, surprised to meet an acquaintance under such strange circumstances, managed to say that he was in good health.
“Well, well,” went on Jones, “I’ll soon settle this. Look here, Don Alvarzo,” he went on, “these is friends of mine. If there’s any damage——”
“Oh, I assure you, not a penny, not a penny!” exclaimed the Mexican. “I regret that my boat was in their way. I beg a thousand pardons. Say not a word more, my dear professor and young friends, but come aboard and partake of such poor hospitality as Don Miguel Fernandez Alvarzo can offer. I am your most humble servant.”
The boys and the professor were glad enough of the turn events had taken. At a few quick orders from Jones and the Don, the Mexicans and the ferry captain’s crew backed the scow away from the house-boat. A landing on shore was made, the automobile run off, and the ferryman having been paid his money, with something extra for the lost oars, pulled off into the rain and darkness, growling the while.
“Now you must come in out of the rain,” said Don Alvarzo, as soon as the auto had been covered with a tarpaulin, carried in case of bad weather. “We can dry and feed you, at all events.”
It was a pleasant change from the storm outside to the warm and well-lighted house-boat. The thunder and lightning had ceased, but the rain kept up and the wind howled unpleasantly.
“I regret that your advent into this wonderful land of Mexico should be fraught with such inauspicious a beginning as this outburst of the elements,” spoke Don Alvarzo, with a bow, as he ushered his guests into the dining-room.
“Oh, well, we’re used to bad weather,” said Bob, cheerfully.
In a little while the travelers had divested themselves of their wet garments and donned dry ones from their valises that had been brought in from the auto. Soon they sat down to a bountiful meal in which red peppers, garlic and frijoles, with eggs and chicken, formed a prominent part. Jones, the Don’s manager, ate with them, and told how, in his younger days, he had worked at a college where Professor Snodgrass had been an instructor.
Supper over, they all gathered about a comfortable fire and, in answer to questions from Don Alvarzo, the boys told something of their plans, not, however, revealing their real object.
“I presume you are searching for silver mines,” said the Don, with a laugh and a sly wink. “Believe me, all the silver and gold, too, is taken out of my unfortunate country. You had much better go to raising cattle. Now, I have several nice ranches I could sell you. What do you say? Shall we talk business?”
But Jerry, assuming the rôle of spokesman, decided they had no inclination to embark in business just yet. They might consider it later, he said.
The Don looked disappointed, but did not press the point. The evening was passed pleasantly enough, and about nine o’clock, as the travelers showed signs of fatigue, Jones suggested that beds might be agreeable.
“I am sorry I cannot give you sleeping apartments together,” remarked the Don. “I can put two of you boys in one room, give the professor another small room, and the third boy still another. It is the best arrangement I can make.”
“That will suit us,” replied Jerry. “Ned and I will bunk together.”
“Very well; if you will follow my man he will escort you to your rooms,” went on the Mexican. “Perhaps the professor will sit up and smoke.”
The naturalist said he never smoked, and, besides, he was so tired that bed was the best place for him. So he followed the boys, and soon the travelers were lighted to their several apartments. Ned and Jerry found themselves together, the professor had a room at one end of a long gangway and Bob an apartment at the other end. Good-nights were called, and the adventurers prepared to get whatever rest they might.
As Ned and Jerry were getting undressed they heard a low knock on their door.
“Who’s there?” asked Jerry.
“Hush! Not so loud!” came in cautious tones. “This is Jones. Keep your guns handy, that’s all. I can’t tell you any more,” and then the boys heard him moving away.
“Well, I must say that’s calculated to induce sleep,” remarked Ned. “Keep your guns handy! I wonder if we’ve fallen into a robber’s den?”
“I don’t like the looks of things,” commented Jerry. “The Don may be all right, and probably is, but he has a lot of ugly-looking Mexicans on his boat. I guess we’ll watch out. I hope Jones will warn the others.”
There came a second knock on the door.
“What is it?” called Jerry, in a whisper.
“I’ve warned your friends,” replied Jones. “Now watch out. I can’t say any more.”
His footsteps died away down the gangway. Jerry and Ned looked at each other.
“I guess we’ll sit up the rest of the night,” said Ned.
They started their vigil. But they were very tired and soon, before either of them knew it, they were nodding. Several times they roused themselves, but nature at length gained the mastery and soon they were both stretched out asleep on the bed.
About three o’clock in the morning there came a cautious trying of the door of the room where Ned and Jerry were sleeping. Soft footsteps sounded outside. If ever the boys needed to be awake it was now, for there was a thief in the night stealing in upon them.
Chapter VI. - Into the Wilderness (41-49)
CHAPTER VI.
INTO THE WILDERNESS.
Jerry had a curious dream. He thought he was back in Cresville and was playing a game of ball. He had reached second base safely and was standing there when the player on the other side grabbed him by his belt and began to pull him away.
“Here! Stop that! It’s not in the game!” exclaimed Jerry, struggling to get away. So real was the effort that he awakened. He looked up, and there, standing over him in the darkness, was a dim form.
“Silence!” hissed a voice. “One move and I’ll kill you. Remain quiet and you shall not be harmed!”
Jerry had sense enough to obey. He was wide awake now and knew that he was at the mercy of a Mexican robber. The man was struggling to undo the lad’s money-belt about his waist, and it was this that had caused the boy’s vivid dream.
Jerry had been kicking his feet about rather freely, but now he stretched out and submitted to the mauling to which the robber was subjecting him. If only Ned would awake, Jerry thought, for Ned, he knew, had his revolver ready in his hand.
With a yank the thief took off Jerry’s belt containing the money.
“Lie still or you die!” the fellow exclaimed.
Then he moved over to where Ned reclined on the bed. Jerry could see more plainly now, for the storm had ceased, the moon had risen and a stray beam came in the side window of the house-boat. The robber stretched out his hand to Ned’s waist. He was about to reach under the coat and unbuckle the money-belt, when Ned suddenly sat upright. In his hand he held his revolver, which he pointed full in the face of the marauder.
“Drop that knife!” exclaimed Ned, for the Mexican held a sharp blade in his hand.
“Bah!” the fellow exclaimed, but the steel fell with a clang to the floor.
“Now lay the money-belt on the bed, if you don’t want me to shoot!” said the boy, pushing the cold steel of the weapon against the Mexican’s face.
“Pardon, señor, it was all a joke! Don’t shoot!” the fellow uttered, in a trembling voice, at the same time tossing the belt over to Jerry, who had drawn his own revolver from under the pillow where he had placed it.
“Light the candle, Jerry,” went on Ned, “while I keep him covered with the gun. We’ll see what sort of a chap he is.”
Jerry rose to find matches. But the robber did not wait for this. With a bound he leaped to the window. One jump took him through, and a second later a splash in the river outside told how he had escaped.
Ned ran to the casement and fired two shots, not with any intention of hitting the man, but to arouse his friends. In an instant there was confused shouting, lights gleamed in several rooms, and Don Alvarzo came hurrying in.
“What’s the matter? What is it all about? Is any one killed?” he cried.
“Nothing much has happened,” said Ned, as coolly as possible under the circumstances. “A burglar got in the room and got out again.”
“A burglar? A thief? Impossible! In my house-boat? Where did he go? Did he get anything?”
“He got Jerry’s money-belt,” said Ned, “but——”
“A money-belt! Santa Maria! Was there much in it?” and Ned thought he saw a gleam come into the Don’s eyes.
“Oh, he didn’t get it to keep!” went on Jerry. “We both fell asleep, and the fellow robbed Jerry first. I was awakened by feeling Jerry accidentally kick me. I saw the robber take his belt, but when he came for mine I was ready for him. I made him give Jerry’s back——”
“Made him give it back!” exclaimed Don Alvarzo, and Ned fancied he detected disappointment in his host’s face. “You are a brave lad. Where did the fiend go?”
“Out of the window,” answered Ned. “I fired at him to give him a scare.”
“I am disgraced that such a thing should happen in my house!” exclaimed the Don, and this time it was Jerry who noticed Jones, the American manager, winking one eye as he stood behind his employer. “I am disgraced,” went on the Mexican. “But never mind, I shall inform the authorities and they will hang every robber they catch to please me.”
“I’m robbed! I’m robbed!” exclaimed Professor Snodgrass, bursting into the room. He was attired in blue pajamas, and his bald head was shining in the candle light.
“What did they get from you?” asked the Don, his face once more showing interest.
“The rascals took three fine specimens of sand fleas from me!” exclaimed the naturalist. “The loss is irreparable!”
“Diablo!” exclaimed the Don, under his breath. “Three sand fleas! Ah, these crazy Americanos!”
“I fancy you can get more, Professor,” said Jones, with a laugh. “Well, there seems to be no great damage done. I reckon we can all go back to bed now.”
The servants, who had been aroused by the commotion, went back to their rooms. In a little while the Don, with many and profuse apologies, withdrew, and the professor and Bob returned to their apartments. Jones was the last to go.
“I told you to be on the watch,” he whispered, as he prepared to leave. “I overheard some of the rascals making up a game to relieve you of some of your cash. I wouldn’t say the Don was in on it, but the sooner you get out of this place the better. You can go to sleep now. There is no more danger. Lucky one of you happened to wake up in time or you’d have been cleaned out. Good-night.”
“Good-night,” said Ned and Jerry, as they locked their door, which had been opened by false keys. They went to bed and slept soundly until daybreak, in spite of the excitement. Nor were they disturbed again.
Don Alvarzo talked of nothing but the attempted robbery the next morning at breakfast. He declared he had sent one of his men post-haste to inform the authorities, who, he said, would dispatch a troop of soldiers to search for the miscreant.
“I am covered with confusion that my guests should be so insulted,” he said.
But, somehow, his voice did not ring true. The boys and the professor, however, thanked him for his consideration and hospitality.
“I think we must be traveling now,” announced Jerry.
“Will you not pass another night under my roof?” asked the Don. “I promise you that you will not be awakened by robbers again.”
“No, thank you,” said Jerry. Afterward, he said the Don might carry out his promise too literally, and take means to prevent them from waking if thieves did enter their rooms. So, amid protestations that he was disappointed at the shortness of their stay, and begging them to come and see him again, the Don said farewell.
“I think, perhaps, we ought to pay for the damage to your boat,” said Jerry, not wishing to be under any obligations to the Mexican.
“Do not insult me, I beg of you!” exclaimed the Don, and he really seemed so hurt that Jerry did not press it. Then, with a toot of the horn, the auto started off on the trip through Mexico.
It was a beautiful day, and the boys were enchanted with the scenery. Behind them lay the broad Rio Grande, while off to the right were the foothills that increased in height and size until they became the mighty mountains. The foliage was deep green from the recent shower, and the sun shone, making the whole country appear a most delightful place.
“It looked as if our entrance into Mexico was not going to be very pleasant,” said Jerry, “especially during the storm and the smash-up with the house-boat. But to-day it couldn’t be better.”
“That was a close call you and Ned had,” put in Bob. “I wonder why they didn’t tackle me?”
“Because you are so good-natured-looking the robbers knew you never had any money,” replied Jerry, with a laugh. “I wonder what Chunky would have done if a Mexican brigand had demanded his money-belt?”
“He could have had it without me making a fuss,” replied the stout youth. “Money is a good thing, but I think more of myself than half a dozen money-belts.”
“Ah, my poor fleas!” exclaimed the professor. “I wonder if the robber killed them.”
“I guess they hopped away,” suggested Ned.
“No, they would never leave me,” went on the naturalist.
“Well, I’m glad I haven’t such an intimate acquaintance with them as that,” commented Jerry, with a laugh.
“Oh, they were tame. They never bit me once,” the professor said, with pride in his voice.
With Ned at the steering-wheel, the auto made good time. The road was a fair one, skirting the edge of a vast plain for several miles. About noon the path led into a dense forest, where there was barely room for the machine to pass the thick trees and vines that bordered the way on either side.
“I hope we don’t get caught in this wilderness,” said Ned, making a skilful turn to avoid a fallen tree.
“Supposing we stop now and get dinner,” suggested Jerry. “It’s past noon, and I’m hungry.”
The plan was voted a good one. The portable stove that burned gasolene was set going, coffee was made and some canned chicken was warmed in a frying pan. With some seasoning and frijoles Don Alvarzo had given them the boys made an excellent meal.
road conditiondriverforesttreeplantskillriskgasolinecar part
After a rest beneath the trees the boys started off in their auto again. The road widened when they had gone a few miles, and improved so that traveling was easier. About dusk they came to a small village, in the centre of which was a comfortable-looking inn.
“How will that do to stop at overnight?” asked Ned.
“First rate,” answered Jerry.
The auto was steered into the yard, and the proprietor of the place came out, bowing and smiling.
“Your friends have just preceded you, señors,” he said.
“Our friends?” asked Jerry, in surprise.
“Si, señor. Don Nixon and Don Pender. They were here not above an hour ago. I think they must be your friends, because they were in the same sort of an engine as yourselves.”
“Noddy Nixon here!” exclaimed Jerry.
Chapter VII. - A Fierce Fight (50-57)
CHAPTER VII.
A FIERCE FIGHT.
The boys glanced at each other in blank astonishment. As for Professor Snodgrass, he was too occupied with chasing a little yellow tree-toad to pay much attention to anything but the pursuit of specimens.
“We seem bound to cross the trail of Noddy sooner or later,” remarked Ned. “Well, if he’s ahead of us he can’t be behind, that’s one consolation.”
“Will the honorable señors be pleased to enter my poor inn?” spoke the Mexican, bowing low.
“I suppose we may as well stop here,” said Jerry, in a low tone to his companions. “It looks like a decent place, and it will give Noddy a chance to get a good way ahead, which is what we want. But I don’t see what he means by going on when it will soon be night.”
The auto was run under a shed, its appearance causing some fright among the servants and a few travelers, who began to mutter their prayers in Spanish. The boys, escorted by the Mexican, then entered the hostelry. It was a small but decent-looking place, as Jerry had said. The boys were shown to rooms where, washing off some of the grime of their journey, they felt better.
“Supper is ready,” announced the innkeeper, who spoke fairly good English.
“Where is the professor?” asked Ned, as the boys descended to the dining-room.
“The last I saw of him he was climbing up the tree after that toad,” answered Bob. “But here he comes now.”
The naturalist came hurrying into the room, clasping something in his hand.
“I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” he shouted. “A perfect beauty!”
The professor opened his fingers slightly to peer at his prize, when the toad, taking advantage of the opportunity, hopped on the floor and was rapidly escaping.
“Oh, oh, he’s got away!” the professor exclaimed. “Help me catch him, everybody! He’s worth a thousand dollars!”
The naturalist got down on his hands and knees and began crawling after the hopping tree-toad, while the boys could not restrain their laughter. A crowd of servants gathered in the doorway to watch the antics of the strange Americano.
“There! I have you again, my beauty!” cried the professor, pouncing on his specimen in a corner of the room. “You shall not escape again!” and with that he popped the toad into a small specimen box which he always wore strapped on his back.
“Tell me,” began the innkeeper, in a low tone, sidling up to Jerry, “is your elderly friend, the bald-headed señor, is he—ah—um—is he a little, what you Americanos call—er—wheels?” and he moved his finger with a circular motion in front of his forehead.
“Not in the least,” replied the boy. “He is only collecting specimens for his college.”
The Mexican shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands in an apologetic sort of way, but it was easy to see that he believed Professor Snodgrass insane, an idea that was shared by all the servants in the inn, for not one of them, during the adventurers’ brief stay in the hotel, would approach him without muttering a prayer.
“I wonder what we’ll have to eat?” asked Ned, as with the others he prepared to sit down.
The innkeeper clapped his hands, which signal served in lieu of a bell for the servants. In a little while a meal of fish, eggs, chocolate and chicken, with the ever-present frijoles and tortillas, was served. It tasted good to the hungry lads, though as Jerry remarked he would have preferred it just as much if there hadn’t been so much red pepper and garlic in everything.
“Water! Water! Quick!” cried Bob, after taking a generous mouthful of frijoles, which contained an extra amount of red pepper. “My mouth is on fire!”
He swallowed a tumblerful of liquid before he had eased the smart caused by the fiery condiment. Thereafter he was careful to taste each dish with a little nibble before he indulged too freely.
In spite of these drawbacks, the boys enjoyed their experience, and were interested in the novelty of everything they saw.
“I wonder how we are to sleep?” said Jerry, after the meal was over. “I’ve heard that Mexican beds were none of the best.”
“You shall sleep the sleep of the just, señors,” broke in the Mexican hotel keeper, coming up just as Jerry spoke. “My inn is full, every room is occupied, but you shall sleep en el sereno.”
“Well, as long as it’s on a good bed in a room where the mosquitoes can’t get in I shan’t mind that,” spoke Bob. “I don’t know as I care much for scenery, but if it goes with the bed, why, all right.”
“You’ll sleep in no room to-night,” said Professor Snodgrass, who for the moment was not busy hunting specimens. “By ‘en el sereno’ our friend means that you must sleep out of doors, under the stars. It is often done in this country. They put the beds out in the courtyard or garden and throw a mosquito net over them.”
“That’s good enough,” said Bob. “It won’t be the first time we’ve slept in the open. Bring on the ‘en el sereno,’” and he laughed, the innkeeper joining in.
The beds for the travelers were soon made up. They consisted of light cots of wood, with a few blankets on them. Placed out in the courtyard, under the trees, with the sky for a roof, the sleeping-places were indeed in the open.
But the boys and Professor Snodgrass had no fault to find. They had partaken of a good meal, they were tired with their day’s journey, and about nine o’clock voted to turn in.
“We’ll keep our revolvers handy this time,” said Bob, “though I guess we won’t need ’em.”
“Can’t be too sure,” was Ned’s opinion, as he took off his shoes and placed his weapon under his pillow.
It was not long before snores told that the travelers were sound asleep. For several hours the inn bustled with life, for the Mexicans did not seem to care much about rest. At length the place became quiet, and at midnight there was not a sound to be heard, save the noises of the forest, which was no great distance away, and the vibrations caused by the breathing of the slumberers.
It was about two o’clock in the morning when Bob was suddenly awakened by feeling a hand passed lightly over his face.
“Here!” he cried. “Get out of that!”
“Silence!” hissed a voice in his ear. But Bob was too frightened to keep quiet. He gave a wild yell and tried to struggle to his feet. Some one thrust him back on the cot, and rough hands tried to rip off his money-belt. The boy fought fiercely, and struck out with both fists.
“Wake up, Jerry and Ned!” he yelled. “We’re being robbed. Shoot ’em!”
The courtyard became a scene of wild commotion. It was dark, for the moon was covered with clouds, but as Jerry and Ned sat up, alarmed by Bob’s voice, they could detect dim forms moving about among the trees.
“The Mexicans are robbing us!” shouted Ned. He drew his revolver and fired in the air for fear of hitting one of his comrades. By the light of the weapon’s flash he saw a man close to him. Bob aimed the pistol in the fellow’s face and pulled the trigger. There was a report, followed by a loud yell. At the same time a thousand stars seemed to dance before Ned’s eyes, and he fell back, knocked unconscious by a hard blow.
Jerry had sprung to his feet, to be met by a blow in the face from a brawny fist. He quickly recovered himself, however, and grappled with his assailant. He found he was but an infant in the hands of a strong man. The boy tried to reach for his revolver, but just as his hand touched the butt of the weapon he received a stinging blow on the head and he toppled over backward, his senses leaving him.
In the meanwhile Bob was still struggling with the robber who had attacked him. Fleshy as he was, Bob had considerable strength, and he wrestled with the fellow. They both fell to the ground and rolled over. In their struggles they got underneath one of the beds.
“Let me go!” yelled Bob. At that instant he felt the ear of his enemy come against his mouth. The boy promptly seized the member in his teeth and bit it hard enough to make the fellow howl for mercy.
Bob suddenly found himself released, and the robber, with a parting blow that made the boy’s head sing, rolled away from under the bed and took to his heels.
“Help! help! help!” cried Professor Snodgrass, as Bob tried to sit upright, for it was under the bed of the naturalist that the boy had rolled. In straightening up he had tipped the scientist, who, up to this point, had been sleeping soundly on the cot.
“What is it? What has happened? Is it a fire? Has an earthquake occurred? Is the river rising? Has a tidal wave come in? Santa Maria! But what is all the noise about?” cried the landlord, rushing into the courtyard, bearing an ancient lantern. “What has happened, señors? Was your rest disturbed?”
“Was our rest disturbed?” inquired Bob, in as sarcastic a tone as possible under the circumstances. “Well, I would say yes! A band of robbers attacked us.”
“A band of robbers! Santa Maria! Impossible! There are no robbers in Mexico!” and the innkeeper began to chatter volubly in Spanish.
Chapter VIII. - The Old Mexican (58-65)
CHAPTER VIII.
THE OLD MEXICAN.
“Well, if they weren’t robbers they were a first-class imitation,” responded Bob. “There’s Jerry and Ned knocked out, at any rate, and they nearly did for me. They would have, only I bit the chap’s ear. I guess I’ll know him again; he has my mark on him.”
“Bit his ear! The Americano is brave! But we must see to the poor unfortunate señors! Robbers! Impossible!”
By this time the whole inn was aroused and the courtyard was filled with servants and guests. Water was brought and with it Jerry and Ned were revived.
“What happened?” began Jerry. “Oh, I remember now! Did they get our money?”
“I guess they got yours and Ned’s,” said Bob, in sorrowful tones, as he noted his chums’ disordered clothing and saw that the money-belts were gone. “They didn’t get mine, though, so we’re not in such bad luck, after all. How do you feel?”
“As if a road-roller had gone over me,” replied Jerry.
“Same here,” put in Ned, holding his head in his hands. “He must have given me a pretty good whack. Who was it robbed us?”
“Are you sure you were robbed, señors?” asked the hotel keeper. “Perhaps you may have been dreaming.”
“Does that look as if it was only a nightmare?” asked Ned, showing a big lump on his head.
“Or this?” added Jerry, showing his clothing cut with a knife where the robber had slashed it in order to take out the money-belt.
“No, it was not a dream,” murmured the innkeeper. “There must have been robbers here. I wonder who they were?”
“They didn’t leave their cards, so it’s hard to say,” remarked Jerry. “I don’t suppose the burglars down here are in the habit of sending word in advance of their visit, or of telling the police where to find them after they commit a crime.”
“Never! Never!” exclaimed the Mexican host. “But speaking of the police, I must tell them about this some time to-morrow.”
“Any time will do,” put in Ned. “We’re in no hurry, you know.”
“I am glad of that,” said the hotel keeper, in all seriousness. “Most Americanos are in such a rush, and I have to go to market to-morrow. The next day will do very well. I thank you, señors. Now I bid you good-night, and pleasant dreams.”
“Well, he certainly does take things easy,” said Jerry, when the innkeeper and his servants, with many polite bows, had withdrawn. “He don’t seem to care much whether we were nearly killed or not. I guess this must be a regular occurrence down here.”
“I always heard the Mexican brigands were terrible fellows,” said Professor Snodgrass. “Now I am sure of it. I am glad they did not get any of my specimens, however. All my treasures are safe.”
“But Ned and I have lost five hundred dollars each,” put in Jerry.
“You can get more from the gold mine,” went on the professor.
“Yes; but it may spoil our trip,” said Ned.
“I have my five hundred dollars,” said Bob.
“And I have nearly one thousand in bills,” spoke the professor, in a whisper. “We will have enough. The robbers would never suspect me of carrying money. Listen; it is in the box with the big lizard and the bat, and no one will ever look there for it,” and he chuckled in silent glee.
“Then I guess we can go on,” said Jerry. “But I wonder who it was robbed us?”
“I suppose it was the Mexican brigands that hang about every hotel,” said Ned.
“I’m not so sure of that,” went on Jerry. “You know Noddy Nixon and his crowd are not far off. It may have been they.”
“That’s so; I never thought of them,” said Ned.
“Did you recognize any one?”
“The fellow who grappled with me had a mask on,” said Jerry. “But I thought I recognized that fellow Dalsett. However, I couldn’t be sure.”
“I didn’t get a chance to see my man,” Ned added.
“The fellow who came for me had a voice like Bill Berry’s,” put in Bob. “If I could see his ear I could soon tell.”
“It will be a good while before you see his ear,” continued Jerry. “I wonder if it was Nixon’s crowd, or only ordinary robbers? If we are to be attacked by Noddy and his gang all the way through Mexico the trip will not be very pleasant.”
“Well, there’s only one thing certain, and that is, the money-belts are gone,” put in Ned, gazing ruefully at his waist around which he had strapped his cash. “The next question is, who took them?”
“Which same question is likely to remain unanswered for some time,” interrupted Professor Snodgrass. “Now, don’t worry, boys. We are still able to continue on our search for the buried city. This will teach us a lesson not to go to sleep again unless some one is on guard. The money loss is nothing compared to the possibility that one of us might have been killed, or some of my specimens stolen. Now we had better all go to bed again.”
“Shall we stand guard for the remainder of the night?” asked Bob.
“I think it will not be necessary,” spoke the professor. “The robbers are not likely to return.”
So, extinguishing the lantern which the innkeeper had left, the travelers once more sought their cots, on which they had a somewhat fitful rest until morning.
At breakfast the innkeeper urged the travelers to spend a few days at his hotel, saying he had sent for a Government officer to come and make an investigation of the robbery. But the boys and the professor, thanking their host for his invitation, called for their bill, settled it, and were soon puffing away through the forest once more.
For several hours they journeyed on beneath giant palms which lined either side of the road. The scenery was one unending vista of green, in which mingled brilliant-hued flowers. Wild parrots and other birds flitted through the trees and small animals rustled through the underbrush as the automobile dashed by.
Jerry was at the steering wheel and was sending the car along at a good clip, when, as he suddenly rounded a curve he shut off the power and applied the brakes. Not a moment too soon was he, for he stopped the machine only a few feet from an aged Mexican, who was traveling along the road, aiding his faltering steps with a large, wooden staff.
The Mexican glanced at the auto which, with throbbing breath, as the engine still continued to vibrate, seemed to fill him with terror. Suddenly he dropped to his knees and began to pray.
“Be not afraid,” Professor Snodgrass called to him, speaking in the Spanish language. “We are but poor travelers like yourself. We will not harm you.”
“Whence do you come in your chariot of fire?” asked the old man. “Ye are demons and no true men!”
“We will not hurt you,” said the naturalist, again. “See, we bring you gifts,” and he held out to the Mexican a package of tobacco and a small hand-mirror. The old man’s eyes brightened at the sight of them. He rose to his feet and took them, though his hands trembled.
In a moment he had rolled a cigarette of the tobacco, and, puffing out great clouds of smoke, complacently gazed at his image in the looking-glass.
“Truly ye are men and not demons,” he said. “The tobacco is very good. But whence come ye, and whither do ye go?”
“We are travelers from a far land,” answered the professor. “Whither we go we scarcely know. We are searching for the unknown.”
The aged Mexican started. Then he gazed fixedly at the professor.
“It may be that I can tell whither ye journey,” he said. “For your kindness to me I am minded to look into the future for you. Shall I?”
“No one can look into the future,” answered the naturalist. “No one knows what is going to happen.” For the professor was no believer in anything but what nature revealed to him.
“Unbelievers! Unbelievers!” muttered the old man, blowing out a great cloud of smoke. “But ye shall see. I will read what is to happen for you.”
He sat down at the side of the road. In the dust he drew a circle. This he divided into twelve parts, and in one he placed a small quantity of powder, which he took from his sash. The powder he lighted with a match. There was a patch of fire, and a cloud of yellow smoke. For an instant the old man was hidden from view. Then his voice was heard.
“Ye seek the unknown, hidden and buried city of ancient Mexico!” he said, in startling tones. “And ye shall find it. Yea, find it sooner than ye think, and in a strange manner. Look behind ye!”
Involuntarily the boys and the professor turned.
“Nothing there,” grunted Ned, as he looked to where the old man had been seated. To his astonishment, as well as the surprise of the others, the aged Mexican had disappeared.
Chapter IX. - A View of the Enemy (66-73)
CHAPTER IX.
A VIEW OF THE ENEMY.
“Where is he?” cried Bob.
“He must have gone down through a hole in the earth,” said Ned. “I didn’t have my eyes off him three seconds. He didn’t go down the road or we would have seen him, and he couldn’t have run into the bushes on either side without making a great racket. He’s a queer one.”
“Just like the East Indian jugglers I’ve read about,” put in Jerry.
“I think probably he was something on that order,” agreed Professor Snodgrass. “Strange how he should have known about the buried city, and we have spoken to no one about it since we came to Mexico.”
“Let’s look and see if we can find a trace of him,” suggested Bob.
The boys alighted from the car. They made a careful search around the spot where the old man had sat. There was the circle he had drawn in the dust, and the mark where the powder had burned, but not another trace of the Mexican could they find. They looked behind trees and rocks, but all they found was big toads and lizards that hopped and crawled away as they approached. The professor annexed several of the reptiles for specimens.
“How do you explain it all?” asked Jerry of the naturalist, when they had taken their seats in the automobile again. “Have those men any supernatural powers?”
“I do not believe they have,” replied the professor. “They do some things that are hard to explain, but they are sharp enough to do their tricks under their own conditions, and they disappear before those who can see them have gotten over their momentary surprise.”
“The disappearing was the funny part of it,” went on Jerry. “I can understand how he made the smoke. A pinch of gunpowder would produce that. But how did he dissolve himself into thin air?”
“He didn’t,” replied the naturalist. “I’ll tell you how that was done. It is a favorite trick in India. When he suddenly called to us to look behind us he took advantage of our momentary glance away to hide himself.”
“But where?”
“Behind that big rock,” and the naturalist pointed to a large one near where the Mexican had been sitting.
“But we looked behind that,” said Ned.
“Yes, several minutes after the disappearance,” went on the professor, with a laugh. “This was how he did it: He wore a long, gray cloak, which, perhaps, you didn’t notice. It was exactly the color of the stone and was partly draped over it. It was there all the while he was doing his trick. I saw it, but thought nothing of it at the time. Now, when he had finished the hocus-pocus, and when our heads were turned, he just rolled himself up into a ball and got under the cloak by the stone. Of course, it looked as if he had dropped down through the earth.”
“But how about him getting away so completely that our search didn’t reveal him?” asked Jerry.
“I think he waited a while and then, when he heard us getting out of the automobile he took advantage of the confusion to crawl, still under his cloak, into the bushes, perhaps by a path he alone knew. There really is no mystery to it.”
“How about him telling us we were searching for the buried city?” asked Bob. “Wasn’t that mind-reading?”
“I think he knew that part of it,” said the professor, “though it seemed strange to me at first. You must remember that the object of our trip was pretty freely talked of back in the gold camp. Some one may have come here from there before we started, and, in some manner, this old Mexican may have heard of us. He may even have been waiting for us. No; it looks queer when it happens, but reasoned out, it is natural enough. However, I am glad to know we are on the right road and will find what we are searching for, though the old man may be mistaken.”
“Shall we go forward again?” asked Jerry, resuming his place at the steering wheel.
“Forward it is!” cried Ned. “Ho, for the buried city!”
Once more the auto puffed along the forest road. It was warm with the heat of the tropics, and the boys were soon glad to take off their coats and collars. Even with the breeze created by the movement of the machine, it was oppressive.
“I say, when are we going to eat?” asked Bob. “I know it’s long past noon.”
“Wrong for once, Chunky,” answered Ned, looking at his watch. “It’s only eleven o’clock.”
“Well, here’s a good place to stop and eat, anyhow,” went on the stout lad, to whom eating never came amiss.
“All right, we’ll camp,” put in Jerry, bringing the machine to a stop.
It was rather pleasant in the shade of the forest in spite of the heat, and the boys enjoyed it very much. The gasolene stove was lighted and Ned made some chocolate, for, since their advent into Mexico the travelers had come to like this beverage, which almost every one down in that country drinks. With this and some frijoles and cold chicken brought from the inn, they made a good meal.
“I’m going to hunt for some specimens,” announced the professor. “You boys can rest here for an hour or so.”
With his green collecting box and his butterfly net the naturalist disappeared along a path that led through the forest.
“I suppose he’ll come back with a blue-nosed baboon or a flat-headed gila monster,” said Ned. “He does find the queerest things.”
It was almost an hour later, when the boys were wondering what had become of the naturalist, that they heard faint shouts in the direction he had taken.
“Hurry, boys!” the professor’s voice called. “Hurry! Help! help! I’m caught!”
“He’s in trouble again!” exclaimed Ned. “We must go to his rescue!”
“Have you got your revolver?” asked Jerry, as Ned was about to rush away.
“No; it’s in the auto.”
“Better get it. I’ll take a rifle along. Bob, you bring the rope. No telling what has happened, and we may need all three.”
With rifle, revolver and rope the three boys rushed into the forest to the rescue of their friend. They could hear his shouts more plainly now.
“Hurry or he’ll kill me!” cried the professor.
Running at top speed the boys emerged into a sort of clearing. There they saw a sight that filled them with terror.
Professor Snodgrass was standing underneath a tree, from one of the lower branches of which a big snake had dropped its sinuous folds about him. The reptile was slowly winding its coils about the unfortunate man, tightening and tightening them. Its ugly head was within a few feet of the professor’s face, and the man was striking at the snake with the butterfly net.
“We’re coming! We’ll save you!” shouted Jerry.
The boy started to run close to the naturalist, intending to get near enough to fire at the snake’s head without danger of hitting the professor.
“Look out!” yelled Bob, pointing to the ground in front of the tree. “There’s another of the reptiles!”
As he spoke a second snake reared its head from the grass, right in the path Jerry would have taken. Bob had warned him just in time.
Jerry dropped to one knee. He took quick but careful aim at the snake on the ground and fired. The reptile thrashed about in a death struggle, for the bullet had crashed through its head.
“Now for the other one!” cried Jerry.
He ran in close to the reptile that was slowly crushing the professor to death. The unfortunate naturalist could no longer cry for help, so weak was he.
Jerry placed the muzzle of the rifle close to the snake’s head, and pulled the trigger. The ugly folds relaxed, the long, sinuous body straightened out and the professor would have fallen had not Jerry, dropping his gun, caught him. The other boys came to his aid, and they carried the naturalist to one side and placed him on the grass.
Bringing water from a nearby spring, Bob soon restored the professor to his senses.
“I’m all right,” said the collector in a few minutes. “The breath was about squeezed out of me, though.”
“You had a narrow escape,” said Ned.
“Thanks to you boys, it ended fortunately,” said the naturalist. “You see, I was trying to capture a new kind of tree-toad, and I didn’t see the snake until it had me in its folds. I’ll be more careful next time.”
In a little while the professor was able to walk. Jerry recovered his gun and the whole party made their way back to the auto.
The camp utensils were soon packed up and the journey was resumed.
“I wonder what sort of an inn we’ll stop at to-night?” said Bob. “I hope they don’t have any robbers.”
“We won’t run any chances,” spoke Ned. “We’ll post a guard.”
For several hours the auto chugged along. As it came to the top of a hill the boys saw below them quite a good-sized village.
“There’s where we’ll spend the night,” remarked Jerry. “Hello! What’s that?” and he pointed to some object round a turn of the road, just ahead of them.
“It looks like an automobile,” said the professor.
“It is!” cried Ned. “And Noddy Nixon is in it!”
Chapter X. - Some Tricks in Magic (74-81)
CHAPTER X.
SOME TRICKS IN MAGIC.
“You don’t mean it!” exclaimed the professor. “Noddy Nixon, the young man who made all the trouble for us! I thought we had seen the last of him.”
“I hoped we had,” said Jerry. “But you can’t always get what you want in this world.”
“No, indeed! There is a purple grasshopper I’ve been hunting for for nearly five years, and I never found it!” spoke the naturalist.
“I wonder if Noddy saw us?” asked Ned.
“It doesn’t make much difference,” was Bob’s opinion. “He’ll run across us sooner or later. If he stops in the same village we do he’s sure to hear about us.”
“Then we may as well put up overnight in this town,” said Jerry, sending the machine ahead again.
Though the boys kept a close watch, they saw no more of Noddy, for his automobile disappeared around a turn of the road.
When the red touring car came up to the village, such a crowd of curious Mexicans surrounded the auto that the occupants had difficulty in descending.
“I guess Noddy couldn’t have come here, or these people wouldn’t be so curious about our car,” said Bob.
“Oh, you can depend on it, he’s somewhere in the neighborhood,” was Ned’s opinion.
The keeper of the tavern, running out, bowed low to the prospective guests.
“Enter, señors!” he exclaimed. “You are welcome a thousand times. The whole place is yours.”
“Will you guarantee that there are no robbers?” asked Jerry.
“Robbers, señors? Not one of the rascals within a thousand miles!”
“And will my bugs, snakes and specimens be safe?” asked the professor.
“Bugs and snakes! Santa Maria! What do you want of such reptiles? Of course they will be safe. The most wretched thief, of which there are none here, would not so much as lay a finger on them.”
“Then we will stay,” said the naturalist.
“Out of the way, dogs, cattle, swine, pigs and beasts!” cried the innkeeper, brushing the crowd aside. “Let the noble señors enter!”
At these words, spoken in fierce tones, though mine host was smiling the while, the throng parted, and the boys, accompanied by the professor, made their way to the inn.
It was not long before supper was served. There were the frijoles and tortillas, without which no Mexican meal of ordinary quality is complete, but the adventurers had not yet become used to this food. Then, too, there was delicious chocolate, such as can be had nowhere but in Mexico.
While the meal was in progress the travelers noticed that there was considerable excitement about the inn. Crowds of people seemed to be going and coming, all of them talking loudly, and most of them laughing.
“What is it all about?” asked Jerry.
“To-day is a fête day,” replied the innkeeper. “No one has worked, and to-night there is an entertainment in the village square. Every one will attend. It will be a grand sight.”
“What sort of entertainment?”
“I know only what I heard, that a most wonderful magician will do feats. Ah, some of those performers are very imps of darkness!” and the man muttered a prayer beneath his breath.
“That sounds interesting. Let’s go,” suggested Bob.
“I haven’t any objection,” said Jerry. “Will you go, Professor?”
“I will go anywhere where there is a chance I may add to the stock of scientific knowledge,” replied the naturalist. “Lead on, I’ll follow.”
The meal over, the boys and professor had only to follow the crowd in order to reach the public square. A centre space had been roped off, and in the middle of this a small tent was erected.
On the payment of a small sum to some officials, who seemed to be acting as ushers, the travelers managed to get places in the front row. There they stood, surrounded by swarthy Mexican men, women and boys, waiting for the performance to begin.
Suddenly from within the tent sounded some weird music: the shrill scraping of fiddle and the beat of tom-toms. Then a voice was heard chanting. A few seconds later a young man, dressed completely in white, stepped from the tent and sat down, cross-legged, on the ground. A score of flaring torches about him gave light, for it was now night.
He spread a cloth on the ground, sprinkled a few drops of water on it, muttered some words, whisked away the covering, and there was a tiny dwarfed tree, its branches bearing fruit.
“The old Indian mango trick!” exclaimed the professor. “I have seen it done better, many times.”
The next trick was more elaborate. The youth in white clapped his hands and a boy came running from the tent. With him he brought a basket. The youth began to scold the boy, beating him with a stick.
To escape the blows, the boy leaped into the basket. In a trice the youth clapped the cover on. Then drawing a sword at his side, the youth plunged it into the wicker-work several times. From the basket horrible cries came, growing fainter and fainter at each thrust of the weapon.
With a cry of satisfaction the youth finally held his sword aloft. The boys could see that it ran red, as if with blood.
“Has he stabbed him?” asked Bob, in frightened tones.
“Watch,” said the professor, with a smile.
The youth opened the basket. It was empty. The boy had disappeared. The youth gave a cry of astonishment, and gazed up into the starlit sky. Naturally, every one in the crowd gazed upward, likewise. All at once there was a cry from behind the youth, and the boy who had been in the basket, laughing and capering about as if being thrust through with a sword was the biggest joke in the world, moved among the assemblage, collecting coins in his cap.
“Another old Indian trick,” said the professor. “He simply curled up close to the outer rim of the basket and the sword went through the middle, where his body formed a circle.”
“But the blood!” exclaimed Bob.
“The boy had a sponge wet with red liquid, and when the sword blade came through the basket he wiped the crimson stuff on it,” explained the professor.
The tricks seemed to please the crowd very much, for few of them saw how they were done. The Mexicans cried for more.
The youth and boy retired to the tent. Their place was taken by an old man, wrapped in a cloak. He produced a long rope, which he proceeded to knot about his body, tying himself closely. Then he signed for two of the spectators to take hold, one at either end of the cord, which extended from under his cloak. Two men did as he desired.
Then the old man began a sort of chant. He waved his hands in the air. With a quick motion he threw something at one of the torches. A cloud of smoke arose. There was a wild cry from the two men who held the rope. When the vapor cleared away the magician was nowhere to be seen, though his cloak lay on the ground and the men still held the ends of the rope that had bound him.
An instant later there came a laugh from a tree off to the left. Every one turned to look, and the old man jumped down from among the branches.
“He tied fake knots,” said the professor. “While he was waving his hands he managed to undo them. Then he threw some powder in the torch flame, and while the smoke blinded every one he slipped out of his bonds and cloak, went through the crowd like a snake, and climbed a tree. The tricks are nothing to what I have seen in Egypt and India.”
“Perhaps there is nothing wonderful but in India or Egypt,” spoke a voice at the professor’s elbow. He turned with a start, to see the old magician standing near him. The naturalist had not spoken aloud, yet it seemed that the Mexican had heard him.
“There are stranger things in this land than in Egypt,” went on the trickster. “Buried cities are stranger. Buried cities, where there is much gold to be had and great riches.”
“What do you know about buried cities?” asked the professor.
“Ask him who sat in the road, who drew the circle in the dust. Ask him whom ye vainly sought,” replied the Mexican, with a laugh.
The professor started.
“It can’t be! Yes, it is. It’s the same Mexican we met before, and to whom I gave the tobacco,” said the naturalist.
“Si, señor,” was the answer, as the old man bowed low. “And be assured that though you mock at my poor magic, yet I can look into the future for you. I tell you,” and he leaned over and whispered, “you shall soon find what you seek, the mysterious city. You are on the right road. Keep on. When ye reach a place where the path turns to the left, at the sign where ye shall see the laughing serpent, take that path. See, the stars tell that you will meet with good fortune.”
With a dramatic gesture the old man pointed aloft. Involuntarily the professor and the boys looked up. Then, remembering the trick that had been played on them before, they looked for the Mexican. But he had disappeared.
Chapter XI. - Noddy Nixon's Plot (82-89)
CHAPTER XI.
NODDY NIXON’S PLOT.
“His old trick again,” murmured the professor. “I should have been on my guard. However, it doesn’t matter. But come on, boys. If we stand out here our plans will soon be known to every one.”
The travelers went back to their hotel, but the crowds of people remained at the square, for there were other antics of the entertainers to follow.
“I wonder if we’ll have to sleep ‘en el sereno’ to-night?” said Bob. “If we do, I’m going to stay awake.”
“Yes, indeed; if they treat Chunky the way they did Jerry and myself, we’ll be stranded,” put in Ned. “Have you got it all right, Chunky?”
What “it” was, Ned did not say; but Bob understood, and, feeling where his money-belt encircled his waist, nodded to indicate that it was still in place.
The travelers found there was plenty of room in the hotel. They were given a large apartment with four beds in it, and told they could sleep there together. They found that the room had but one door to it, and all the windows were too high up to admit of easy entrance. So, building a barricade of chairs in front of the portal, the adventurers decided it would not be necessary to stand guard. If any one came into the apartment he would have to make noise enough to awaken the soundest sleeper.
Thus protected, the travelers went to bed. Nor were their slumbers disturbed by the advent of any robbers. However, if they could have seen what was taking place in a small hut on the outskirts of the town, about midnight, they might not have slept as peacefully.
Within a small adobe house, well concealed in a grove of trees, five figures were grouped around a table on which burned a candle stuck in a bottle.
“I’ll make trouble for Jerry Hopkins and his friends yet,” spoke a youth, pounding the table with his fist.
“That’s what you’re always saying, Noddy Nixon,” put in a man standing over in the shadow.
“Well, I mean it this time, Tom Dalsett. We’d have put them out of business long ago if I’d had my way.”
“Well, what are you going to do this time?” asked a lad, about Noddy’s age, whom, had the Motor Boys seen him, they would have at once known for Jack Pender, though he had become quite stout and bronzed by his travels.
“I’ve got a plan,” went on Noddy. “I didn’t come over to Mexico for nothing.”
“What do you s’pose they come for?” asked Bill Berry, who was busy cleaning his revolver.
“To locate a silver mine, of course,” replied Noddy. “Ain’t that so, Vasco?” and Nixon turned to a slick-looking Mexican, who was rolling a cigarette. The fellow was a halfbreed, having some American blood in his veins.
“Si, señor,” was the reply. “Trust Vasco Bilette for finding out things. I heard them talking about a mine.”
“Of course; I told you so,” said Noddy.
The truth of it was that Bilette had heard nothing of the sort, but thought it best to agree with Noddy.
“I hope we have better luck getting in on this mine than we did on their gold mine,” said Pender.
“Well, rather!” put in Dalsett.
“Leave it to me,” went on Noddy. “I have a plan. And now do you fellows want to stay here all night or travel in the auto?”
“Stay here,” murmured Bilette. “It is warm and comfortable. One can smoke here.” Then, as if that settled it, he rolled himself up in his blanket, and, with a last puff on his cigarette, he went to sleep on the floor.
In a little while the others followed his example. Bilette slept better than any one, for he seemed to be used to the hordes of fleas that infested the hut.
As for Noddy, he awakened several times because of the uncomfortableness of his bed. Finally he got up and went out to sit up the rest of the night on the cushioned seats of the automobile.
So far, the Nixon crowd had done nothing but ride on a sort of pleasure trip through Mexico. Noddy had managed to get some cash from home, and, with what Dalsett obtained by gambling, they managed to live.
Shortly after crossing the Rio Grande River, Noddy had fallen in with a slick Mexican, Vasco Bilette by name, and had added him to his party. Bilette knew the country well, and was of considerable assistance. He seemed to have no particular occupation. Some evenings, when they would be near a large town, he would disappear. He always turned up in the morning with plenty of cash. How he got it he never said.
But once he returned with a knife wound in the hand, and again, limping slightly from a bullet in the leg. From which it might be inferred that Vasco used other than gentle and legitimate means of making a livelihood. But Noddy’s crowd was not one that asked embarrassing questions.
With no particular object in view, Noddy had driven his car hither and thither. However, accidentally hearing that Jerry and his friends had come over into Mexico, Noddy determined to remain in their vicinity, learn their plans, and, if possible, thwart them to his own advantage.
Fortunately, the boys and the professor, soundly sleeping at their inn, could not look into the future and see the dangers they were to run, all because of Noddy and his gang. If they could have, they might have turned back.
Bright and early the next morning Professor Snodgrass awoke. He looked out of the window, saw that the sun was shining, and rejoiced that the day was to be pleasant. Then he happened to spy a new kind of a fly buzzing around the room.
“Ah, I must have you!” exclaimed the naturalist, unlimbering his insect net. “Easy now, easy!”
On tiptoes he began encircling the room after the fly. The buzzer seemed in no mood to be caught, and the professor made several ineffectual attempts to ensnare it. Finally the insect lighted on Bob’s nose, as the boy still slumbered.
“Now I have you!” the professor cried. He forgot that Bob might have some feelings, and thinking only of the rare fly, he brought the net down smartly on Bob’s countenance.
“Help! Help! Robbers! Thieves!” shouted the boy.
“Keep still! Don’t move! I have it now!” yelled the professor, gathering up his net with the fly in it. “Ah, there you are, my little beauty!”
Ned and Jerry tumbled out of their beds, Ned with his revolver ready in his hand.
“Oh, I thought it was some one after my money-belt,” said Bob, when his eyes were fully opened and he saw the professor.
“Sorry to disturb you,” said the naturalist. “But it’s in the interest of science, my dear young friend, and science is no respecter of persons.”
“Nor of my nose, either,” observed Bob, rubbing his proboscis with a rueful countenance.
There came a loud pounding at the door.
“Who’s there?” asked Jerry.
“’Tis I, the landlord,” was the answer. “What is it? Have the brigands come? Is the place on fire? Why did the señor yell, as if some one had stuck a knife into him?”
“It was only me,” called Bob. “The professor caught a new kind of fly on my nose.”
“A fly! On your nose! Diablo! Those Americanos! They are crazy!” the innkeeper muttered as he went away.
“Well, we’re up; I suppose we may as well stay up,” said Ned, stretching and yawning. “My, but I did sleep good!”
They all agreed that the night’s sleep had been a restful one. They dressed, had breakfast, and, in spite of the entreaties of the landlord to stay a few days, they were soon on the road in the automobile.
“I’m glad to know we are on the right path,” said the professor, after several miles had been covered. “I only hope that old Mexican was not joking with us.”
“What was that he said about turning to the left?” asked Ned.
“We are to turn when we come to the place where the laughing monkey is,” said Bob.
“Serpent was what he said,” observed Jerry. “The laughing serpent. I wonder what that can be. I never saw a snake laugh.”
“It might be a figure of speech, or he may have meant there is a stone image carved in that design set up to mark a road,” spoke the professor. “However, we shall see.”
Dinner was eaten in a little glade beside a small brook, where some fish were caught. Then, while the boys stretched out on the grass, the professor, who was never idle, took a small rifle and said he would go into the forest and see if he could not get a few specimens.
“Look out for snakes!” called Ned.
“I will,” replied the naturalist, remembering his former experience.
About an hour later, when Jerry was just beginning to think it was time to start off, the stillness of the forest was broken by a terrible and blood-curdling yell.
“A tiger!” cried Bob.
“There are no tigers here,” said Jerry. “But it’s some wild beast!”
The yell was repeated. Then came a crashing of the underbrush, followed by a wild call for help.
“That’s the professor!” cried Jerry, seizing his rifle.
Chapter XII. - Noddy Schemes with Mexicans (90-97)
CHAPTER XII.
NODDY SCHEMES WITH MEXICANS.
The boys crashed through the bushes and under the low branches of trees in the direction of the professor’s voice. They could hear him more plainly now.
“Help! Help! Come quick!” the naturalist cried.
The sight that met the boys’ eyes when they came out into a little clearing of the forest was at once calculated to amuse and alarm them. They saw the professor clinging to the tail of a mountain lion, the beast being suspended over a low tree-limb, with the naturalist hanging on one side of the branch and the animal on the other, the brute in the air and the professor on the ground.
The infuriated beast was struggling and wiggling to get free from the grip the professor had of its tail. It snarled and growled, now and then giving voice to a fierce roar, and endeavoring to swing far enough back to bite or claw the naturalist.
As for Professor Snodgrass, he was clinging to the tail with both hands for dear life, and trying to keep as far as possible away from the dangerous teeth and claws of the lion.
“Let go!” yelled Jerry.
“I dare not!” shouted the professor. “If I do the brute will fall to the ground and eat me up. I can’t let go, and I can’t hold on much longer. Hurry up, boys, and do something!”
“How did you get that way?” asked Bob.
“I’ll—tell—you—later!” panted the poor professor, as he was swung clear from the ground by a particularly energetic movement of the beast. “Hurry! Hurry! The tail is slipping through my fingers!”
In fact, this seemed to be the case, and the beast was now nearer the ground, while the length of tail the naturalist grasped was lessened.
The big cat-like creature suddenly began swinging to and fro, like a pendulum. At each swing it came closer and closer to the professor. All the while it was spitting and snarling in a rage. Suddenly the professor gave a yell louder than any he had uttered.
“Ouch! He bit me that time!” he cried. “Hurry, boys!”
The lads saw that the situation now had more of seriousness than humor in it. Jerry crept up close and, with cocked rifle, waited for a chance to fire at the beast without hitting the professor.
At that instant the lion made a strong, backward swing, and its claws caught in the professor’s trousers. The beast tried to sink its teeth in the naturalist’s legs, but with a quick movement the professor himself jumped back, and, with his own momentum and that of the lion to aid him, he swung in a complete circle around the limb of the tree, the lion going with him, so their positions were exactly reversed.
“Steady now! I have him!” called Jerry.
The change in the positions of man and beast had given the boy the very opportunity he wanted. The animal was now nearest to him. Quickly raising the rifle, Jerry sent a bullet into the brute’s head, following it up with two others. The lion, with a last wild struggle to free itself, dangled limply from the tree-limb, from which it was still suspended by the professor’s hold on its tail.
Seeing that his enemy was dead, and could do him no harm, the naturalist let go his grip and the big cat fell in a heap on the ground.
“Once more you boys have saved my life,” said the collector, as he mopped his brow, for his exertions in trying to keep free from the beast had not been easy.
“Are you bit much?” asked Ned.
“Nothing more than scratches,” was the reply.
“How in the world did you ever get in such a scrape?” asked Jerry.
“I’ll tell you how it was,” answered the professor. “You see, I was busy collecting bugs and small reptiles, going from tree to tree. When I came to this one I saw what I thought was a small, yellow snake. I believed I had a fine prize.
“I approached without making a sound, and when I was near enough I made a grab for what I imagined was the snake. Instead, it turned out to be the tail of the mountain lion, which dangled from the limb, on which the beast was crouched. All at once there was a terrible commotion.”
“I would say there was!” interrupted Ned. “We heard it over where we were.”
“Yes, of course,” resumed the professor. “Well, as soon as I got the tail in my hands I found I had made a mistake. It was then too late to let go, so the only thing to do was to hold on. It was rather a peculiar position to be in.”
“It certainly was,” said Jerry, with a laugh.
“Yes, of course. Well, seeing that the only thing to do was to keep my grip, I kept it and yelled for help. I guess the lion was as badly scared as I was first, when it felt me grab its tail. After it found I wasn’t going to let go it got mad, I guess.”
“It acted so, at any rate,” put in Bob.
“Yes, of course,” went on the professor. “Well, anyhow, I knew if I did let go I would be clawed to pieces, so there I hung, like the man on the tail of the mad bull, not daring to let go. Then you came, and you know the rest.”
“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” asked Ned.
“Sure,” was the reply. “I was too lively for the lion. I’m sorry the tail didn’t turn out to be a snake, though, for if it had been I’m sure it would have been a rare specimen.”
Leaving the dead body of the animal where it had fallen, the travelers went back to their auto. The camp utensils were packed away, and soon, with Ned at the steering wheel, the machine was running off the miles that separated the adventurers from the hidden city they hoped to find.
They traveled until nearly nightfall, and came to no village or settlement. It began to look as if they would have to camp in the open, when, just as darkness was approaching, they came to a small adobe hut in the midst of a sugar-cane plantation.
“Maybe we can stop here overnight,” said Jerry.
An aged Mexican and his wife came to the door of the cabin to see the strange fire-wagon pass. Speaking to them in Spanish, the professor asked if he and his companions could get beds for the night. At first the man seemed to hesitate, but the rattling of a few coins in Bob’s pockets soon changed his mind, and he bade the travelers enter.
equipmentanimaldrivernavigationpedestriannationalityagriculturecar partnight
The woman quickly got a fairly good meal, and then, after sitting about for an hour or so and talking over the events of the day, the travelers sought their beds. They found themselves in one apartment, containing two small, cane couches, neither one hardly big enough for a single occupant.
“However, it’s better than sleeping out of doors, where the mosquitoes can carry you away,” said Ned.
Contrary to their expectations, the travelers slept good, the only trouble being the fleas, which were particularly numerous. But by this time they had become somewhat used to this Mexican pest.
While the professor and the boys were taking a well-earned rest, quite a different scene was being enacted by Noddy Nixon and his companions.
Following a half-formed plan he had in mind, Noddy had hung on the trail of the Motor Boys. He had followed them from the inn where they last stopped, and now he was camped out, with his followers, about five miles from the adobe hut. But Jerry and his friends did not know this.
“Isn’t it pretty near time you told us what you are going to do, Noddy?” asked Jack Pender, as he piled some wood on the camp-fire.
“I’ll tell you,” spoke Noddy. “We’re going to follow them until they locate their mine, and then we’re going to stake a claim right near theirs. They’re not going to get all the gold or silver in this country the way they did in Arizona.”
“Are you sure it’s a mine they’re after?” asked Bilette, puffing at his cigarette.
“Of course,” replied Noddy. “What else could it be? Didn’t you hear that’s what they came for?”
“I don’t know,” went on the slick Mexican. “I only asked for information. If it’s a mine they’re after we’ll need a bigger force than we have to run things.”
“Where can we get help?” asked Noddy.
“I’ll show you,” replied Vasco. He put his fingers to his lips and whistled shrilly.
An instant later half a dozen Mexicans stepped from the shadow of the trees and stood in a line, in the glare of the fire.
“Well, you didn’t lose any time over it,” observed Noddy. “Where did they come from, and who are they?” and the bully looked a little uneasy.
“They came from the greenwood,” replied Vasco Bilette, “for the forest is their home. And they are friends of mine, so now both your questions are answered.”
“If they’re friends of yours I s’pose it’s all right,” went on Noddy.
“Well, rather!” drawled Vasco, lighting another cigarette from the stump of his last one.
“Will they help us?” went on Noddy.
Bilette addressed something in Spanish to his friends who had so mysteriously appeared.
“Si, señor,” they exclaimed as one man, bowing to Noddy.
“Queer you happened to have ’em on hand,” said Noddy, accepting the answer to his question, for he had learned a little Spanish, and knew that “si” meant yes.
“I anticipated we might need them,” said Bilette. “So I told them to be on hand and in waiting to-night. They are very prompt.”
“Then we’ll join forces with them and show Jerry Hopkins and his crowd that he can’t have everything his own way,” growled Noddy. “Come on, we’ll follow them now and see what they are doing,” and Noddy seemed ready to start off.
“Not to-night; it’s time to turn in,” objected Bilette. “We’ll begin early in the morning.”
He spoke once more to the six men, who disappeared into the forest as quietly as they had come. Then Bilette, wrapping himself up in his cloak, went to sleep.
The others followed his example, and soon the camp was quiet. Noddy now had his plans in working order, and he thought, with satisfaction, of the revenge he would have.
Chapter XIII. - On the Trail (98-104)
CHAPTER XIII.
ON THE TRAIL.
“Come, come, boys! Are you going to sleep all day?” exclaimed Professor Snodgrass, the next morning.
His cheery voice awoke the others, and they sat up on the hard cots.
“Where are we? Oh, yes, I remember now!” said Bob. “I thought I was back at the gold mine.”
“I dreamed I was back in Cresville,” added Jerry. “I wonder how all the folks are. We must write some letters home.”
After breakfast, which the Mexican and his wife served in an appetizing style, the travelers decided to delay their start an hour or two, and spend the time writing. Professor Snodgrass said he had no one to correspond with, so he wandered off with his net and specimen box, but the boys got out paper, pens and ink, and were soon busy scratching away.
In about two hours the professor returned, having collected a number of specimens and escaped getting into any difficulties or dangers for once.
“We’d better start,” he called. “I’m anxious to get to that underground city. If that turns out half as well as I expect, our fortunes are made.”
“Will it be better than the gold mine?” asked Bob, with a grin.
“The gold mine!” exclaimed the naturalist. “Why, I had rather reach this buried city than have half a dozen gold mines!”
He was very enthusiastic and seemed anxious to get on with the journey. The automobile was made ready, and, bidding their hosts good-by, the travelers were again under way.
As they progressed the road became rougher and more difficult of passage. In places it was so narrow that the automobile could barely be taken past the thick growth of foliage on either side.
The forest fairly teemed with animal life, while the flitting of brilliantly colored birds through the trees made the woods look as if a rainbow had burst and fallen from the sky. Parrots and macaws, gay in their vari-tinted plumage, called shrilly as the puffing auto invaded their domains.
It was necessary to run the car slowly. The professor fretted at the lack of speed, but nothing could be done about it, and, as Jerry said, it was better to be slow and sure. So they went on for several miles.
About noon the travelers came to the edge of a broad river, which cut in two the road they had been following.
road conditionforesttreeplantanimalscenerysoundslownesssafetynavigationriver
“Here’s a problem,” said Jerry, bringing the car to a stop. “How are we going to get over that? No bridge and no ferry in sight.”
“Perhaps it isn’t as deep as it looks,” suggested the professor.
“Tell you what!” exclaimed Ned. “We’ll all go in for a swim and then we can tell whether it’s too deep to run the auto across.”
His plan was voted a good one, and soon the boys and Professor Snodgrass were splashing about in the water. Their bath was a refreshing one. Incidentally, Ned found out that he could wade across, the stream in one place coming only to his knees, while the bottom was of firm sand.
While the travelers were splashing about in the cool water, they might not have felt so unconcerned had they been able to look through the thick screen of foliage on the bank of the stream, and see what was taking place there.
Several dark-complexioned men, in company with Vasco Bilette, had dismounted from their horses and were watching the bathers.
“Well, I’m glad they decided to stop,” remarked Vasco. “Our horses are tired from following their trail. They will probably camp for the night on the other bank, for they would be foolish to go farther when they can find good water and fodder.”
“You forget they do not have a horse to consider,” spoke one of the Mexicans. “Their machine does not eat.”
“No more it does,” said Bilette. “But they cannot go much farther. If necessary, we can cross the river and get at them.”
“Is that Noddy boy and his puff-puff carriage to join us?” asked one of the crowd of Mexicans.
“That is the plan,” replied Vasco. “He thought we could follow the trail on horses better than he could in the automobile, because that makes a noise, and those we are pursuing might hear it. So Noddy has kept about five miles behind. As for us, you know that we have been only a mile in the rear, thanks to the slowness with which they had to run their machine.
“Ah, the Americanos have finished their bath. Here they come back,” went on Vasco, as the boys and the professor began wading toward the shore, near which they had left their auto.
Suddenly the professor set up a great splashing and made a grab under the water.
“I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” he yelled, holding something aloft.
“Got what?” asked Jerry.
“A rare specimen of the green-clawed crab,” was the answer, and the naturalist held up to view a wiggling crawfish. “It bit my big toe, but I grabbed it before it got away. This was indeed a profitable bath for me. That specimen is worth one hundred dollars.”
“If there are crabs in there I don’t see why there aren’t fish,” spoke Ned. “I’m going to try, anyhow.”
Quickly dressing, he got out a line and hook, cut a pole and, with a grasshopper for bait, threw in. In three minutes he had landed a fine big fish, and several others followed in succession.
“I guess we’ll have one good meal, anyhow,” observed Ned.
“Shall we stay on this side and eat, or cross the river?” asked the professor.
“Might as well stay here,” was Jerry’s opinion.
So the portable stove was made ready and soon the appetizing smell of frying fish filled the air. The travelers made a good meal, and Vasco Bilette and his gang, hiding among the trees, smoked their cigarettes and wished they had a portion.
“But never mind, when we have the Americanos at our mercy we will be the ones who eat, and they will starve,” was how Vasco consoled himself.
Dinner over, the travelers took their places in the auto, and, with Jerry at the wheel, the passage of the river was begun. Following the course Ned had tried, the machine was taken safely over the stream, and run up the opposite bank. No sooner had it got on solid ground, however, than, with a loud noise, one of the rear tires burst.
“Here’s trouble!” exclaimed Ned, as Jerry brought the car to a sudden stop.
“Might have been worse,” commented Bob. “It might have blown out while we were in the water, and that would have been no joke.”
“Right you are, Chunky,” said Jerry. “Well, I suppose we may as well camp here for a spell; at least until the repairs are made.”
He set to work to put in a new tube, Ned and Bob assisting him, while the professor wandered off after any stray specimens that might exist. He found several insects that he said were rare ones.
The fixing of the tire proved a harder job than Jerry had anticipated. It was several hours before it was repaired to suit him, and by then the sun was getting low.
riverdriversafetysoundaccidentcar partmaintenanceanimalskill
“What do you say that we camp here for the night?” proposed Ned. “We can’t get on much farther anyhow, and this is a nice place. It’s more open than in the forest.”
This was voted a good plan, so a fire was made and a camp staked out. From their side of the river Vasco and his companions viewed these preparations with satisfaction.
“They cannot escape us now,” said the leader of the Mexicans. “We can easily cross the river after dark and get close to them. I wish Noddy would hurry up.”
At that instant there was the sound of wheels in the road, to the left of which Vasco and his men were concealed. In a little while Noddy, with Dalsett, Berry and Pender, rode up in the machine.
“Where are they?” asked Noddy, eagerly.
Vasco pointed through the screen of bushes to the other side of the bank, where the professor and boys were encamped.
“Good!” exclaimed Nixon. “We’ll pay them a visit to-night.”
All unconscious of the nearness of their foes, the Cresville boys, having had a good supper, sat talking about the camp-fire. The professor was engaged in sorting over the specimens he had gathered during the day.
At this same time Noddy and Dalsett, with Vasco and the six Mexicans the latter had provided, were preparing to cross the river, under cover of the darkness.
They did not undress, but waded in as they were, the gleaming camp-fire on the other side serving as a beacon to guide them.
“Softly!” cautioned Vasco, as the nine crawled up on the opposite bank, and began creeping toward the campers.
Chapter XV. - Caught by an Alligator (112-119)
CHAPTER XV.
CAUGHT BY AN ALLIGATOR.
“Easy! Easy!” cried Vasco Bilette. “Do you want them to hear you across the river?”
Under his caution the men subsided.
“We must follow them and watch our chance,” spoke Noddy. “We’ll demand a heavy ransom.”
“Si! Si!” agreed the Mexicans.
“That’s how we get square, Jack,” whispered Noddy to his chum.
“You bet, Noddy; and get money, too!” said Pender.
“We’ll all have to have a share,” put in Dalsett. “I’m not here for my health.”
“Me either,” remarked Bill Berry. “I need cash as much as any one.”
“We’ll share the ransom money,” said Vasco. “Now turn in, every one of you.”
Soon the camp became quiet, the only sounds heard being the movements of animals in the forest, or, now and then, the splash of a fish in the river.
The sun was scarcely above the horizon the next morning ere Vasco Bilette was astir. He took a position where he could watch the other camp, and saw the professor and the boys get their breakfast and start off.
“We’ll give them about an hour’s start,” said Vasco to Noddy. “Then the men on horses will follow and you can come, about a mile behind, in the auto. At the first opportunity we’ll capture this Bob Baker.”
Meanwhile, Jerry and his companions were going along at a moderate pace. The weather was fine though hot, and the road fairly good. For perhaps twenty miles they puffed along, and then they came to another river.
“I hope this isn’t any deeper than the other,” said Jerry.
“I’ll swim across,” volunteered Ned.
His offer was accepted, and, stripping off his outer garments, he plunged into the water. Luckily, he found the stream was about as shallow as the first one the auto had forded. He reached the opposite bank and called over.
“Come on! Fetch my clothes with you; I’m not going to swim back.”
Jerry started the machine down into the water. It went along all right until about half way across. Then there came a sudden swirl beneath the surface, a jar to the machine, and then the auto came to a stop.
“What’s the matter?” cried Jerry. “Have we struck a snag?”
“Looks more like a snag had struck us,” replied Bob, leaning over the rear seat and looking down into the water. “Something has hold of one of the back wheels.”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Jerry. “Do you suppose a fish would try to swallow an automobile, as the whale did Jonah?”
“Well, you can see for yourself,” maintained Bob. “There’s some kind of a fish, or beast, or bird, down under the water, making quite a fuss. It’s so muddy I can’t make out what it is.”
Jerry climbed over into the tonneau. Sure enough, there was some disturbance going on. Every now and then the water would swirl and eddy, and the automobile would tremble as if trying to move against some powerful force. Jerry had thrown out the gears as soon as he felt an obstruction.
Professor Snodgrass was closely observing the water.
“What do you think it is?” asked Jerry.
“It might be that it is an eddy of the water about a sink-hole, or it may be, as Bob suggests, a big fish,” replied the naturalist. “I never knew there were fish in these waters big enough to stop an auto, though.”
“It may be a whole school of fishes,” said Bob.
Just then there came a more violent agitation of the water, and the auto began to move backward slightly.
“Whatever it is, it seems bound to get us,” Jerry remarked. “Wait until I see if I can’t beat the fish or whatever it is.”
He turned on more power and threw in the first speed gear. The auto shivered and trembled, and then moved ahead slightly. But the big fish, or whatever it was, with powerful strokes of its tail began a backward pull that neutralized the action of the automobile.
“I see what it is!” cried the professor.
“What?” asked Jerry.
“A big alligator! It has one wheel in its mouth and is trying to drag us back. Hand me a rifle!”
Jerry passed over a gun. The professor, who was a good shot, leaned down over the back of the tonneau. He could just make out the ugly head of the ’gator beneath the surface. In quick succession he sent three bullets from the magazine rifle into its brain.
There was a last dying struggle of the beast, the waters swirled in a whirlpool under the lashing of the powerful tail, and then the little waves became red with blood and the alligator ceased struggling.
Once more Jerry threw the gear into place, and this time the machine went forward and reached the opposite bank.
“I thought you were never coming,” observed Ned, who was shivering in his wet undergarments. “What did you stop for? To catch fish?”
“We stopped because we had to,” replied Jerry, and he told Ned about the alligator.
“I thought you were shooting bullfrogs,” observed the swimmer as he got out some dry clothing. “Say, if we told the folks at home that a Mexican alligator tried to chew up an automobile, I wonder what they’d say?”
“The beast must have been very hungry, or else have taken us for an enemy,” remarked the professor. “I wish I could have saved him for a specimen. But I suppose it would have been a bother to carry around.”
“I think it would,” agreed Jerry. “But now we are safe, I must see if Mr. Alligator damaged the machine any.”
He looked at the wheels where the saurian had taken hold, but beyond the marks of the teeth of the beast on the spokes and rim, no harm had been done.
“Are we ready to go on now?” asked the professor, when Ned had finished dressing.
“I’d like to take a dip in the river,” said Bob. “It’s hot and dusty on the road, and we may not get another chance.”
“I think I’ll go in, too,” observed Jerry. “We are in no hurry. Will you come along, professor?”
“No; I’ll watch you,” said the naturalist. He sat down on the bank while Jerry and Chunky prepared for a dip.
They splashed around in the water near shore and had a good bath. Bob was swimming a little farther out than was Jerry.
“Better stay near shore,” cautioned the professor. “No telling when some alligators may be along.”
At that instant Bob gave a cry. He struggled in the water and gave a spring into the air.
“Something has stung me!” he cried.
Then he sank back, limp and unconscious, beneath the waves.
“Hurry!” cried the professor. “Get him out, Jerry, or he’ll be drowned!”
But Jerry had hurried to the rescue even before the professor called. Reaching down under the water he picked up his companion’s body, and, placing it over his shoulder, waded to shore with it. Bob was as limp as a rag.
“Is he killed?” asked Ned.
“I hope not,” replied the professor. “Still, he had a narrow escape.”
“Did something bite him?” asked Jerry.
The professor pointed to a small red mark on Bob’s leg.
“He received an electric shock,” said the naturalist.
“An electric shock?” echoed Ned.
“Yes; from the electric battery fish, or stinging ray, as they are sometimes called. They can give a severe shock, causing death under some circumstances, it is said. But I guess it was a young one that stung Bob. They are a fish,” the professor went on to explain, “fitted by nature with a perfect electric battery. I wish I had caught one for a specimen.”
“I didn’t think of it at the time this one stung me or I would have caught it for you,” said Bob, suddenly opening his eyes.
“Oh, you’re better, are you?” asked Jerry.
“I’m all right,” replied Bob. “It was quite a jar at first.”
“I agree with you,” put in the professor. “However, you got over it better than I expected you would. I think we had better get out of the neighborhood of this river. It seems unlucky.”
In a little while Bob was sufficiently recovered to dress. Then, having delayed only to fill the water tank of the auto from the stream, the travelers resumed their journey.
They chugged along until nightfall, and having reached no settlement, they camped in the open, and made an early start the next day. It was about noon when, having made a sudden turn of the road, they came to a place where there was a parting of the ways.
“I wonder which we shall take?” asked Ned.
“Look! Look!” cried Bob, suddenly, pointing to something ahead.
Chapter XVI. - The Laughing Serpent (120-126)
CHAPTER XVI.
THE LAUGHING SERPENT.
“What is it?” asked Jerry, bringing the machine up with a sudden jerk.
“See! There is the laughing serpent!” exclaimed Bob.
“The laughing serpent?” inquired Ned. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t you remember what the old Mexican said?” went on Bob. “Here is the parting of the ways, and here is the image of the laughing serpent.”
“Sure enough!” agreed the professor. “It’s an image cut out of stone, in the shape of a snake laughing. Wonderful! Wonderful!”
Right at the fork of the road and about fifteen feet from the automobile was the strange design. It was rudely cut out of stone, a serpent twining about a tree-trunk. There was nothing remarkable in the image itself except for the quaint, laughing expression the sculptor had managed to carve on the mouth of the reptile.
“I wonder how it came here?” asked Jerry, getting out of the car and going close for a better look.
“Probably a relic of the Aztec race,” replied the professor. “They were artists in their way. This must be the image the old Mexican mentioned. If it is I suppose we may as well follow his advice and take the road to the left.”
“The road to the buried city,” put in Jerry. “We must be close to it now.”
“Isn’t that something sticking in the mouth of the image?” asked Bob.
“It looks like a paper,” said Ned. “I’ll climb up and see what it is.”
He scrambled up the stone tree-trunk, about which the image of the laughing serpent was twined. Reaching up, he took from the mouth of the reptile a folded paper.
“What does it say?” called Jerry.
“It’s written in some queer language; Spanish, I guess,” replied Ned. “I can’t read it.”
“Bring it here,” said Professor Snodgrass. “Perhaps I can make it out.”
The naturalist puzzled over the writing a few minutes. Then he exclaimed:
“It’s from our old friend, the Mexican magician. He tells us to turn to the left, which is the same advice he has given us before, and he adds that we must beware of some sudden happening.”
“I wonder what he means by that?” asked Jerry.
“Probably nothing,” answered the professor. “But if something does happen, and he meets us after it, he’ll be sure to say he warned us. It’s a way those pretended wonder-workers have.”
“How do you suppose the note was placed there?” inquired Bob. “We left the Mexican many miles behind.”
“They are wonderful runners,” answered the naturalist. “The magician may not have placed it here himself, but he may have given it to a friend. Perhaps there was a relay of runners, such as used to exist among the ancient Mexicans to carry royal messages. The old Mexican, who, somehow or other, discovered our object in this country, probably wanted to impress us with his abilities in the mystifying line.”
The travelers spent a few minutes examining the queer, carved serpent. There were no other evidences of the existence of man at hand, and, except for the two roads, there was nothing to be seen but an almost unbroken forest. It was a wild part of Mexico.
“Well, what are we going to do?” asked Jerry. “Go on or stay here?”
“Go on, by all means,” said the professor. “Why, we may be only a little way from the buried city! Just think of it! There will be wealth untold for us!”
“One thing puzzles me though,” observed Bob.
“What is it, Chunky?” asked Ned.
“How are we going to know this buried city when we come to it?”
“How?” came from Jerry. “Why, I suppose there’ll be a railroad station, with the name of the city on it. Or there may be trolley cars, so we can ask the conductors if we are at the underground town. Don’t you worry about knowing the place when you get to it.”
“But if it’s underground, how are we going to find it?” persisted Bob. “It isn’t like a mine, for people who know the signs can tell where gold or silver is hidden under the ground. But a city is different.”
“I confess that question has been a puzzle to me,” admitted Professor Snodgrass. “The only thing to do is to keep on along this road until we come to the place, or see some evidence that a buried city is in the vicinity.”
“Forward, then!” cried Jerry, cranking up the auto.
They all got into the car and, proceeding at a slow speed, for the path was uncertain, started down the road leading to the left.
But all this while Noddy Nixon and Vasco Bilette, at the head of their two bands, had not been idle. Noddy kept his auto going, and Vasco and his Mexicans trotted along on horseback, drawing nearer and nearer to the travelers ahead of them.
It was about noon when the boys and the professor had started away from the image of the laughing serpent, and it was three hours later that Vasco and his men came up to it.
“Hello!” exclaimed the Mexican, staring at the carved stone. “I never saw you before, but you’re not remarkable for beauty. I wonder what you’re here for?”
He had never been in this part of Mexico before, and it was like a new country to him.
“I wonder which way those chaps took?” asked Vasco, dismounting from his horse. “It won’t do for us to take the wrong trail.”
“See!” exclaimed one of the Mexicans, pointing to where the tracks of the auto wheels could be seen, imprinted in the dust of the way leading to the left. “See! That way they go!”
“Sure enough they did, Petro!” remarked Vasco. “You have sharp eyes. Well, we’ll just wait here until Noddy comes up and sees how things are. I shouldn’t wonder but what it would be time to close in on ’em to-night. I’m getting tired of waiting. I want some money.”
“So are we all tired!” exclaimed one of the gang, speaking in Spanish, which was the language Vasco always used save in talking to his English acquaintances. “We want gold, and if the fat boy is to be carried off and held for a ransom, the sooner the better.”
“Have patience,” advised Vasco. “We’ll have him quick enough. Wait until Noddy comes.” Then he began to roll a cigarette, his example being followed by all the others.
In about an hour Noddy, Pender, Dalsett and Berry came up in the auto. A consultation was held, and it was decided to have the horsemen follow the party in front more closely.
“We’ll do the kidnapping to-night,” said Noddy. “We’ll wait until they go into camp, because that’s what they’ll have to do, for there are no inns down here. We’ll be hiding in the bushes and at the proper time we’ll grab Bob Baker and run.”
“Good!” exclaimed Vasco. “My men were beginning to get impatient.”
The plotters made a fire and prepared dinner. Then the Mexicans got out their revolvers and began cleaning them. Several also sharpened their knives.
“Look here,” began Noddy, as he saw these preparations, “there’s to be no killing, you know, Vasco.”
“Killing! Bless you, of course not,” was the reply, but Vasco winked one eye at Dalsett. “My men are only seeing that their weapons do not get rusty. Now, captain, we’re ready to start as soon as you give the word.”
“Then you may as well begin now,” was Noddy’s reply. “They have a pretty good start of us, but we’ll travel after dark, if need be, to catch up with them. As soon as they camp out for the night, Vasco, surround them so they can’t escape. Then I’ll come up in my car, and we’ll take Bob away in it.”
The horsemen started off, Noddy following in a little while. The trail made by the auto of the boys and the professor was easily followed.
Noddy’s car had barely turned around a bend in the road before something strange happened. The laughing serpent seemed to tremble and shake. It appeared alive, and about to fall to the ground.
Then a portion of the base and tree-trunk slid to one side and from the interior, which was hollow, there stepped out an old Mexican—the same who had played the part of the magician and who had given prophetic warning to the travelers.
“Ha! My trick worked!” he exclaimed. “It was a hard journey to travel all that distance and get here ahead of them. Only the fleetness of my horse and the fact that I knew all the roads that were short cuts, enabled me to do it. Now for the final act in the game!”
He placed his fingers to his mouth and blew a shrill whistle. In an instant a milk-white horse came from the bushes, where it had been concealed.
“Here, my beauty!” called the Mexican.
He leaped on the animal’s back and dashed off like the wind, down the road leading to the right.
