Part 9

“My name’s Seaman. Anything I can do for you?”

“Mine’s Austin.” He introduced himself and the Flying Buddies explained briefly why they had dropped out of the sky.

“Won’t you join us for lunch?” Seaman invited cordially. “We’re always delighted to have visitors.”

“Thank you. We shall be happy to join you. There is something which I must report and no doubt you can tell me just where to do it.”

“It will give me great pleasure.” The officer led the way to the barracks and his own quarters. “Make yourselves as comfortable as the heat will permit.” The three washed up, and then, seated under a whizzing fan, Mr. Austin told him about the stowaway. The man’s eyes were raised incredulously, but there was no doubting the story.

“You say that you are on a business trip; to Peru?”

“Yes. An important one.”

“No doubt someone, or group, is interested in seeing that you don’t get there,” Seaman suggested.

“That must be the solution, but it is very mystifying for we did not decide to fly down until two days before we started, and only a few close friends and the family knew how we were making the trip,” Mr. Austin told him.

“You are quite safe here, and we’ll do anything we can for you. I’ll make a report of your story, have it written this afternoon, and if you’ll sign it before you leave, it will be on record in case anything should come up later. If that dwarf is picked up by a boat he may claim that he was thrown out of the plane and make things unpleasant in that way. I’ll give you a copy of the papers with our signatures, and you can keep it on you to use if need be.”

“I have a part of the tube,” Jim explained.

“Leave a few drops of the stuff here and we’ll analyze it. See if our chemists can recognize the drug. There are hundreds of varieties picked up in the jungles every once in a while, but I never happened to hear of one acting as this did. You’re lucky to be here.”

“We certainly do appreciate your assistance,” Mr. Austin said warmly.

“I’ll have a guard posted by your plane while it is here so there will be no possible chance for a recurrence of what happened this morning, and when you are ready to refuel you can supervise the business yourselves. We have some good mechanics if you need any work done,” he offered further.

“We’ll give the bird an examination and be mighty glad to have your man’s help if anything has to be done,” Jim told him. Seaman touched a button and in a moment an orderly appeared. He stopped just inside the door, saluted briskly.

“Send in the clerk, and give orders that the American plane is to be carefully watched--strictly. No one, other than the guard, to go near it, except the flyers, of course.”

“Very well, sir.” The man touched his cap again, wheeled and went out briskly. The officer turned again to his guests.

“Did you mention a ranch, the K-A?”

“That’s ours,” Bob said quickly. “The K-A and the Cross-Bar; they’re great ranches.”

“I do not doubt it. I have a friend, an old school pal who is one of the Royal Mounted Police Chiefs stationed in Quebec. A few weeks ago I received a letter from him and he told me that he had been in Texas on some official business. As I recall it, he said he stayed at the K-A, and he mentioned some rather wild experiences at another place--”

“The Box-Z,” Jim laughed.

“That’s it. Chap’s name is Allen Ruhel.”

“He stopped with us. We met him first in the Province of Quebec, and another chap, named Bradshaw. We had some great times in Canada, near the line, and we told them if they came to Texas we’d pin horseshoes on them, but they didn’t stay long enough,” Bob announced.

“By George, then you are the Flying Buddies he spoke of. Said most disrespectfully that a couple of “American kids” had done a lot to locate the hangout of a border gang. He’s particularly grateful to you because it proved to his department that planes can be of the greatest assistance in the work to be done, and he’s getting some extra ones in his service,” Seaman smiled. “You did him quite a good turn.”

“Howling Nightingales, they did us a few,” Bob declared.

“Being pals, Allen and I pass on bits of information which may come in handy in our work. He told me that there was a grand round-up of criminals at that ranch in Texas, but he also said that two men, the son of one of the leaders and their chauffeur managed to escape the net. Do you happen to know if the man has been captured?”

“He wasn’t a couple of days ago. That’s Arthur Gordon. The sheriff at Crofton had the old ranch guarded by a young deputy. We had to stop there one day before Christmas, and discovered that Gordon was there, but he saw us first,” Jim explained.

“Which means that he got in some dirty work and made his get away.”

“He surely did.” Bob told the story briefly, not leaving out anything and with casual references to Don Haurea, and Seaman was greatly interested.

“He’s a bad boy all right-o. What do you suppose he wanted with carrier pigeons?”

“He must use them to send communication to some long distance point.”

“Yes, of course. It will be well to remember that he has a supply and notify the authorities to be on the watch for them. A plane can trail one easily if it is once spotted. It seems strange that Gordon abandoned your airplane.”

“That occurred to us, but we’re glad he did,” Bob grinned.

“Who wouldn’t be!”

“Probably the young fellow had another means of leaving the State or the country. He may even have had a plane of his own, and of course he would know that a description of your machine would be well broadcasted. He didn’t have gas enough to get very far, so he dropped out where he knew he would find friends and either hid until the matter blew over somewhat, or left immediately,” Mr. Austin volunteered.

“Very true.” Just then the clerk appeared with pad and pencil, and Seaman dictated briefly the story of the dwarf’s attempt to suffocate the air travelers and his probable fate. The clerk took it on the typewriter, and when it was finished the Texans and the two Britishers signed it in triplicate.

“You keep this copy in your possession.” Seaman handed one sheet to Mr. Austin, who put it with his papers in his pocket.

“Thank you very much.”

“Now, we may as well have lunch.” He led the way to the mess hall where a number of officers were assembled, introduced his companions, and the three sat down at one of the small tables. The meal was a lively affair, the men joked back and forth, some of the older ones told stories, and when they had finished, the two grown-ups lighted cigars.

“You do not have such a dull time,” Mr. Austin remarked.

“No, indeed,” Seaman smiled, then he added gravely, “I have a suggestion to make. By air it’s in the neighborhood of three thousand miles to Cuzco from here. Lay to quietly today, get your crate in order, and start tomorrow morning about three o’clock, then make it a non-stop. That will put the kibosh on any plan to get you between here and your destination. It is possible that I’ll get some word by wireless if the dwarf is picked up, but from what you say of your position at the time, the fellow was a bit out of the track of usual travel. However, boats do go roaming about all over the sea, and one might have been on the spot.”

“I thought he might have planned to drop off where someone was waiting for him,” Jim suggested.

“That’s possible. Also, he may have been sure that he could force you to turn back to Jamaica. That would explain the fact that he was not prepared for a fall into the sea. Too bad his backer didn’t take the drop with him. You say you have some reliable friends who are associated with you in this business. I might get a message through to expect you tomorrow afternoon some time if you care to have me.”

“I think it is an excellent plan,” Mr. Austin answered. “How about it, boys?”

“Suits me,” Jim answered.

“I haven’t a single amendment to offer,” Bob added.

“Very well. Then make yourselves at home, get all the rest you can before you start. I’m mighty glad you dropped in on me, and when I write Allen, I shall take pleasure in telling him that I have met The Flying Buddies.”

XI

AT CUZCO

As far as Seaman could learn no wireless message was picked up regarding the fate of the dwarf, but the officer promised the Texans that he would notify them if he got any information.

“I doubt very much if the fellow is alive but some people are born lucky; you never can tell what they will come through. A decent man hitting the water from that distance would have the life knocked right out of him and sink like lead to the bottom. We have your description of the pair, so I’ll send out some quiet inquiries. I’d like to pick up that man who hauled your gas for you at Montego.”

“Hope you do,” Jim said earnestly.

“We may. It’s amazing how that sort of riffraff drifts about. Well, now, you fellows turn in. The guard will call you in time to start, and if you are ever in the neighborhood again, pay us another call.”

“Sure, we will. Perhaps when we’re coming back we’ll have time to spend a day and see this part of the world. It sure looks interesting; something like the level parts of Texas,” said Bob.

“You are a confirmed Texan,” Seaman smiled as he withdrew, and presently the weary travelers had drifted off into the land of dreams, and not even the heat disturbed them. When the guard finally knocked softly at the door to let them know it was time to get up, the air was chilly, and they yawned vigorously.

“Captain Seaman said to tell you that our chemist couldn’t find out what was in that broken tube. He applied all the tests we have, but it’s something he doesn’t know anything about,” the man explained.

“Thank you very much.”

“He sealed the rest in a container because he thought you might like to keep it, or send it to another analyst.” The soldier produced a tube and Jim took it thoughtfully.

“Could you send it by air mail for us from here?”

“Yes sir, certainly.”

“I’m going to send it to the Don, Dad. Perhaps he can have it analyzed by some one.”

“That’s a good plan. Anyway, it will be well to preserve it.”

Jim took a few minutes to get the tube ready to mail, then dressed quickly, and joined his father and buddy, who were already being served a good breakfast in the great empty mess-hall. Before they had finished, Captain Seaman appeared in his pajamas and bathrobe.

“Rest well?” he asked.

“Never better. Sorry to get you out at such an ungodly hour.”

“That’s all right. I thought I’d like to see you off safely so I told the guard to call me.” He sat down and chatted with them until they had finished, then went to the “Lark” about which a sentry marched in perfect military fashion and very businesslike. He saluted the captain, seemed relieved at the sight of the travelers, and stood respectfully while the party prepared to leave.

“We owe you a great deal, Captain Seaman,” Mr. Austin declared holding out his hand.

“Glad we could do anything for you.”

The three climbed into their places, Jim at the controls, and in a moment the engine was roaring. Except for the camp lights, the night was pitch black but they all knew that the dawn would be breaking before very long. The travelers and the soldiers waved farewells, then the “Lark” gave a gay little hop, and raced into the air. She seemed to realize that she had a great deal to do before she came down again, so she set to work with a good will. Jim climbed her thirty thousand feet before he leveled out, set his course, and shot forward like a star through the blackness. Twice Bob called through the speaking tube to the passenger in the rear, and Mr. Austin assured them he was quite safe and comfortable.

“I find that by sitting low my hands come close to the bulb, my boy, so that I can signal you the instant I scent danger, and as long as I can catch an occasional glimpse of your heads I am assured that all is well up front,” he told them.

“Corking idea. Do you see that morning star? Isn’t she a beauty?”

“She certainly is magnificent, but she will not shine very much longer for I believe that I see a sign of light in the distance.” After that chat they flew in silence, then Bob set himself to studying, while Jim continued to keep to his task of piloting. It seemed to him that Captain Seaman’s suggestion to continue the trip without a break was a very sensible one, and as he considered the matter he thought that Panama, where they had intended to make a stop might have proved another unlucky spot for them. There was no doubt now that someone was making a strenuous effort to prevent them from reaching Cuzco, and whoever was organizing the movement against them would have given Belize small consideration.

An hour later daylight was well on its way and the morning was glorious. The sun rose like a brilliant ball of color which reflected in numberless dancing shades on the vast expanse of water that was so much greater in proportion than the bits of land it surrounded. The “Lark” was going at top speed and never did the boys see the world roll under them so swiftly. It hardly seemed possible that an airplane could fly so fast, but the miles were clicking off on the indicator and the wind screamed sharply as they cut through it. Austin wondered if anything would happen that would necessitate carrying them along by the force of the central power and then he recalled that Don Haurea had said that one of the stations was in South America. The “Lark” must even now be in touch with it and the boy wished he had remembered to ask exactly where it was located. Staring ahead toward the distant land to which he was going he thought again of those ancient Spaniards and he tried to visualize the years that had passed, if the intellect of those adventurers would have been as highly developed as their brute courage. Into his mind came the recollection of the bitterness in the voice of the dignified Don when he spoke of the Pizarros, then through it flashed a vague idea. He wondered if the Haureas were descendants of those Yncas. It made him gasp.

Almost immediately came the recollection of that day in Vermont when he and Bob had gone to the little island in Lake Champlain to find Corso and his young nephew. How they had found the boy garbed in the exquisite robes of royalty, and how they had listened as Yncicea had told them of the ancient race which had preserved itself through the centuries. The youngster looked every inch a prince as he made his explanation simply, the chest of precious jewels at his feet. As a token of appreciation the Flying Buddies had each received two very valuable emeralds beside the rings they wore on their fingers.

“What a blue-ribbon turnip I’ve been. Yncicea is Don Haurea’s son. Ynca--that’s part of the title of the children of The Sun. Great Scott, of course--they are descendants of the Yncas--the real ones. Well, gosh, I’m glad of it. It’ll take more than a bunch of ignoramuses to ride rough shod over them again. Gee, I wonder how many there are now; some tribe, I’ll bet--”

“Talking in your sleep?” Bob demanded. He had happened to look up and saw Jim’s lips moving.

“I just had a great idea.”

“Cherish it, Old Timer, you may never get another,” Bob taunted.

“I shall,” Jim chuckled. Caldwell returned to his notes while Jim’s mind was filled with the wildest fancies. He was mighty glad that Her Highness had come down on the Box-Z that day when they were out of gas. It seemed as if it must have occurred years instead of months ago. So much had happened; so much that was thrilling; and so much that was perfectly fascinating. The possibilities for the future had opened out swiftly, there seemed to be no limit to what could be accomplished. Toward the middle of the morning Bob looked up again.

“Remember when we ate?”

“Haven’t the faintest recollection,” Jim admitted. The younger boy put away his work and attacked the hamper. He called to Mr. Austin, who declared that all was well with him.

“I have a book, a sandwich, a piece of cake and a bottle of coffee right this minute,” he announced.

“You’re getting ahead of us,” Bob laughed. Presently he had eaten all he wanted, then he turned to Jim. “Now, bring that idea of yours over here and don’t eat so much, you’ll crowd it out.”

“Don’t you worry, I hog-tied it,” Jim retorted. They changed seats and Austin looked into the basket. “You ate it all,” he bellowed.

“Did not, there’s half a chicken and all the trimmings,” Bob grinned. “Maybe so much brain work has affected your eyesight.” Austin produced the chicken and trimmings and set to work on them, then, after a chat with his father, he got at his books. The “Lark” soared along steadily, smooth as silk. They were over the Andes now and as Caldwell glanced at them his mouth opened in awe and wonder. He hoped hard that the business which was bringing them would not be concluded too quickly for he longed to fly over those long jagged ridges, to explore their dark forests and follow some of those rushing streams that glistened in the valleys. Far away the boy could see the edge of the Pacific Ocean. Occasionally he caught a glimpse of a great ship, then he saw numberless small boats bobbing on the waves. Although he scanned the air for a plane no one seemed to be flying, and he wondered at that, for he was sure that pilots would be crazy about the land. Along the coast were numerous towns, inland they were more scattered, and they seemed to be perched on the mountain sides. Further south began the deserts, arid and barren, their hot shifting sands looking exactly like set waves.

“We ought to be almost there, Buddy,” Jim remarked as he looked up from his work and glanced at the chart. “That must be Lima beyond us. Suppose you shoot over east a bit.”

“All right.” Bob changed the course and turned the plane’s nose in toward the mountains.

“Want to change?”

“Don’t care if I do. The sun has been kind of glaring.” They shifted places again and Caldwell heaved a sigh of relief.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were getting fagged?”

“Didn’t think of it. This surely is some country.” They drove on swiftly, and finally Mr. Austin flashed the signal.

“My friend’s home is east of the city. He wrote me that one of his neighbors has a plane, so there must be a landing space near by.”

“We’ll look for it, Dad.” By that time the mountain city and the great lake Titicaca came into view. Bob pulled down his cap glasses and did some close observing, and finally he pointed out a place which should be convenient for landing. It was after two o’clock when they brought the “Lark” down on a broad field which looked as if it were a part of a plantation. They waited a few minutes to glance around, and presently a young man came striding toward them.

“May I serve you gentlemen?” he asked politely.

“Are we near the Pedro De Castro place?” Mr. Austin inquired.

“You are on it, sir. The house is on the terrace. You can taxi your plane quite close. The avenues are wide enough so that you can drive over them easily.”

“Thank you very much.” Jim started the last lap of the trip, and he wondered if anything could possibly happen now to prevent the proper promotion of the business to be settled. They had barely swung around toward the house, when he saw a tall man come quickly from the veranda and hurry to meet them.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, this is a pleasure. I received word that you were on your way but I calculated that you could not possibly reach here before evening. You must have a very good plane and pilot.” He was a dark-eyed and pleasant faced chap and he went at once to the rear cock-pit where he and Mr. Austin shook hands cordially. “Alight at once. It is an inactive time of day. Do come and make yourselves comfortable.”

“You must meet the boys. My son Jim and Bob Caldwell.”

“Did I not meet this one years ago, and do I not remember his tow-head, but he has forgotten me I am sure. Run your bus in the shade, boys, and come into the house. You can care for it later.” He shook hands all round, and the boys grinned uneasily, but soon they were inside, where they were introduced to Carlos, dark-eyed like his father, but his hair was brown and he was nearly sixteen years old.

“I wish you would tell me at once about this business, Peter. I am anxious to know what has been happening,” Mr. Austin urged.

“Come into the gardens. May I bring my son? He is getting to be a man and he must begin to learn things.”

“By all means. I’ve been shifting responsibilities on the shoulders of my boys and while they do not know much about this project, I should be glad to have them sit in. We old fellows never know when we may have to leave the reins in younger hands and I think it wrong not to let them have as much experience as possible.” They made their way to a beautiful portico which reminded the Sky Buddies of Don Haurea’s home, only this was much more pretentious. Comfortable seats were placed, and when they were settled a servant came with cool drinks in iced glasses.

“You were wise to come, Austin. I felt sure that I could depend upon your co-operation, and now that you are here we can conclude the matter without delay,” De Castro told them.

“That is good. What has been going wrong?”

“More than we thought. You know that much of the management has been left in the hands of Vaca Alonzo and his brother, Silvester. While the work was being developed they both devoted themselves to it tirelessly, then I noticed a change in Silvester, he seemed less open and responsive. He is the older man. One or two others in the company mentioned several slight discrepancies, so we started a quiet investigation. We found that they are maneuvering to gain control of the business. Several outsiders have been admitted, one at a time, unobtrusively, and these men have been making an effort to increase their stock. You understand the sort of thing that can be--as you say in the United States--put over, when the heads of an organization are not alert?”

“Yes, indeed,” Mr. Austin answered.

“Well, you are here, two other men will arrive later, one is already on his way from Lima. At the regular meeting tonight we will out-vote them, and under the circumstances I am in favor of changing officers, giving the Alonzos less influence. It is good that you arrived so promptly for we had planned to seek an adjournment tonight, but that will not be necessary. We can conclude the matter immediately, and it is possible that we can rid ourselves of the undesirable element.”

“I am certainly in favor of that,” Mr. Austin declared. “Now, I should like to ask you something. Are the Alonzos very widely connected?”

“Why yes, they are, I should say. They have interests in several enterprises. That is one reason why we wanted them to join with us. While they were not what you would call enormously wealthy, they have been very successful in the past two years. May I ask why you inquire?”

“Your letter by air mail reached me in good time and we started within the week, as you know. We have made the trip in excellent time and as far as we can tell you, only our immediate families were aware we were coming here to Cuzco. I did not even send you a message because it occurred to me that someone might investigate your mail.”

“When I did not hear from you, I felt positive that you were coming,” De Castro smiled.

“That’s what I expected you to do. Texas, our part of it, has been under a blanket of snow for several weeks, so we have seen little of our neighbors, and I doubt if any of them know that we are not at home,” Mr. Austin explained carefully.

“Yes, it is well to be cautious; there is much at stake.”

“To shorten the story, one attempt was made on my life, possibly two, but the one came very nearly being accomplished. I wondered if the Alonzos are sufficiently powerful to have an organization which could be responsible for those attempts.”