CHAPTER VII.

A PAIR OF PLANS.

“That other machine,” Jimmie observed glancing hastily in the direction pointed out by Sam, “looks to me like the _Bertha_.”

“Can you identify an aeroplane at that distance in the night-time?” asked Sam. “I’m sure I couldn’t do anything of the kind!”

“I don’t know as I can express it,” Jimmie replied, “but to me every flying machine has a method and manner of its own. There is something in the way an aeroplane carries itself in the sky which reminds me somewhat of the manner of a man in walking. In the case of the man, you know who it is long before you can see his face, and in the case of the flying machine, you know her long before the details of construction are in view. I’m sure that is the _Bertha_!”

“It is the _Bertha_, all right!” Carl cut in. “And she isn’t being handled by one of our boys, either!”

“It isn’t possible, is it, that that fellow Doran found the nerve to chase us up?” asked Jimmie. “If he did, he’s a poor aviator, all right!”

“It’s a wonder to me he doesn’t tip the machine over,” Sam suggested.

“He may tip it over yet!” exclaimed Carl. “Just see, how it sways and sags every time it comes to one of the little currents of air sweeping out of the gorges. I anticipate a quick tumble there!”

“That’s a nice thing,” exclaimed Jimmie, “for some one to steal the machine and break it up! If the _Bertha_ goes to pieces now, we’ll have to delay our trip until another aeroplane can be bought, and the chances are that we can never buy one as reliable as the _Bertha_.”

“She isn’t smashed yet!” grinned the tramp. “She’s headed straight for the camp now, and may get here safely. The aviator seems to understand how to control the levers, but he doesn’t know how to meet air currents. If he had known the country well enough, he might have followed an almost direct river level to this point.”

“We didn’t know enough to do that!” Carl exclaimed. “We came over mountains, gorges, and all kinds of dangerous precipices.”

“That was unnecessary,” laughed the tramp, still keeping his eyes fixed on the slowly-approaching flying machine. “The south branch of the Esmeraldas river rises in the volcano country somewhere south of Quito. The east branch of the same river rises something like a hundred miles east and north of Quito. These two branches meet down there in front of the camp. You can almost see the junction from here.”

“Could a boat sail down either branch of the river?” asked Carl.

“I don’t know about that,” was the reply, “but there must be a continuous valley from Quito to the junction. If yonder aviator had followed that, or if you had followed it, there would have been no trouble with gorge winds or gusty drafts circling around mountain tops.”

“Is there a road through the valley?” asked Jimmie. “A wagon road, I mean. It seems that there ought to be.”

“There are a succession of rough trails used by teamsters,” was the reply. “I came down that way myself. The trails climb over ridges and dip down into canyons, but it seems to me that the roadbed is remarkably smooth. In fact, there seems to be a notion in the minds of the natives that a very important commercial highway followed the line of the river a good many centuries ago. I don’t know whether this is correct or not, but I do know that the highway is virtually unknown to most of the people living at Quito. I blundered on it by mistake.”

“We’ll go back that way,” Carl suggested, “and, as we can fly low down, there will be no risk in taking you along with us.”

The flying machine which had been discovered approaching the camp a few minutes before was now near enough so that two figures could be distinguished on the seats. The machine was still reeling uncertainly, the aviator undoubtedly seeking a place to land.

“You see,” Carl explained, “the fellow is a stranger so far as this camp is concerned. If he had ever been here before, he would now know exactly what to do. Either Ben or Glenn could lay the machine within six inches of the _Louise_ without half trying.”

“Then you are certain that it is not one of your friends in control of the aeroplane?” asked Sam.

“I am sure of that!” replied Jimmie. “Neither one of the boys would handle a machine the way that one is being handled.”

“When she gets a little nearer we can tell whether that man Doran is on board or not,” suggested Carl rather anxiously.

“If you are certain that the machine has been stolen from the field where she was left,” Sam went on, “you ought to decide without delay what course to take when she lands. The man having her in charge may have followed you here with hostile intentions.”

“That’s very true!” Carl agreed.

“We have two automatics apiece,” Jimmie grinned, “and we know how to use them, so we’ll be able to take care of ourselves, whatever happens!”

“And I have two which I found lying with the provision packages in one of the tents,” said Sam. “Perhaps I shall be able now to pay for my dinner. I’m always glad to do that whenever I can.”

The oncoming machine was now circling over the valley, and it seemed that a landing would be made in a few minutes. The boys moved back to where the _Louise_ lay, then stood waiting and watching anxiously.

“Do you think the men on the machine saw you?” asked Jimmie, in a moment, turning to Sam. “It doesn’t seem possible that they did!”

“Certainly not!” answered Sam. “You must remember that it is dark down here, and that they are virtually looking into a black hole in the hills. The way they approach the valley indicates that. Only for the remnants of the fire, I don’t believe they could have found the valley at all!”

“Perhaps they haven’t seen us, either!” Carl suggested.

“I don’t think they have,” Sam answered.

“Then I’ll tell you what we’ll do!” Jimmie exclaimed. “We’ll scatter and hide in three different places, in three different directions. Then, when they land, we’ll perform the Jesse James act and order them to throw up their hands! With six automatics pointing in their direction, they’ll probably obey orders without argument.”

“I should think they would!” laughed Carl.

“What’s the idea after that?” Sam questioned.

“I don’t know,” Jimmie returned. “Anyway, we’ll get the machine and leave them to walk back to Quito. By the time they have accomplished that stunt, we’ll be on our way to the haunted temples of Peru. I’m getting sick of this old country, anyway.”

Bending low in the darkness so as to avoid being seen from above, the three scattered, in accordance with this arrangement, and lay, securely hidden, in the tall grass when the _Bertha_ came wavering down. Owing to the inexperience of the aviator, she struck the earth with a good deal of a bump, and exclamations of rage were heard from the seats when the motors were switched into silence.

“This must be the place,” Jimmie heard one of the men saying, as the two leaped to the ground. “There’s been a fire here not long ago, and there are the tents, just as described by the boys.”

“Yes,” another voice said, “and there is the _Louise_ back in the shadows. It’s a wonder we didn’t see her before.”

“But where are the boys?” the first speaker said.

“We don’t care where the boys are,” a voice which Jimmie recognized as that of Doran exclaimed. “The boys can do nothing without these machines. It seems a pity to break them up.”

“We won’t break them up until we have to!” the other declared.

“I was thinking of that,” Doran answered. “Suppose we pack up the tents and provisions and such other things as we can use and take everything away into some valley where we can hide the machines and all the rest until this little excitement blows over.”

“That’s just the idea!” the other answered. “When things quiet down a little we can get a good big price for these machines.”

“And in the meantime,” Doran continued, “we’ll have to catch the boys if they interfere with our work. If they don’t, we’ll just pack up the stuff and fly away in the machines.”

“And the two lads at Quito?” asked the other.

“Oh,” Doran replied with a coarse laugh, “it will take them three or four days to find out where their friends are, and a couple of weeks more to get new machines, and by that time everything will be all lovely down in Peru. It seems to be working out all right!”

Jimmie felt the touch of a hand upon his shoulder and in a moment, Carl whispered in his ear:

“Do you mind the beautiful little plans they’re laying?” the boy asked.

“Cunning little plans, so far as we’re concerned!” whispered Jimmie.

“What do they mean by everything being lovely down in Peru after a couple of weeks?” asked Carl. “That sounds mysterious!”

“You may search me!” answered Jimmie. “It looks to me, though, as if the trouble started here might be merely the advance agent of the trouble supposed to exist across the Peruvian boundary.”

“I suppose,” Carl went on, “that we’re going to lie right here and let them pack up our stuff and fly away in our machines?”

“Yes, we are!” replied Jimmie. “What we’re going to do is to give those fellows a little healthy exercise walking back to Quito.”

Directly Doran and his companion found a few sticks of dry wood which had been brought in by the boys and began building up the fire, for the double purpose of warmth and light. Then they both began tumbling the tinned goods out of the tents and rolling the blankets which the boys had used for bedding.

“Ain’t it about time to call a halt?” asked Jimmie.

“It certainly is!” Carl answered. “I wonder where our friend Sam is by this time? He wouldn’t light out and leave us, would he?”

“I don’t think he would,” was the reply. “I have a notion that this mix-up is just about to his taste!”

Just as Jimmie was about to show himself, revolvers in hand, preparatory to sailing away in the machines and leaving the intruders with their hands held well up, a murmur which seemed to come from a myriad of human voices vibrated on the air and the tall grass all about the place where the tents had been pitched seemed to be imbued with life.

“Savages!” exclaimed Jimmie.

“Gee!” whispered Carl, excitedly. “This location seems to be attracting attention to-night! What are we going to do?”

“If those outlaws were away,” explained Jimmie, “we’d know well enough what we ought to do! We’d make a rush for the machines and get aboard, just as we did before.”

“I wonder if Doran and his companion will have sense enough to try that?” asked Carl. “If they do, we’ll have to stop them, for we can’t lose the machines. They ought to be shot, anyway.”

While the boys whispered together the savages, evidently in large numbers, crept toward the aeroplanes in an ever-narrowing circle. As luck would have it, the place where Jimmie and Carl were hidden was permitted by the savages to make a break in the circle because of the depression in which they lay, their heads on a level with the surface of the earth.

The savages swept almost over them, and in a moment, by lifting their heads above the grass in the rear of the dusky line, they saw the attacking party swarming around the tents and the machines. Doran and his companion were seized, disarmed, and tied up with stout fiber woven from the bark of a tree. Directly a scouting party brought Sam into the group.

The tramp had apparently surrendered without any attempt at defence, and the boys wondered a little at that until they found themselves facing lithe spears which waved significantly to and fro within six inches of their heads! Then they, too, laid down their automatics, for they understood very well that there was horrible death in the poisoned shafts.

They, too, were marched to the center of the group, now gathered about the machines. Doran and his companion gazed at them with terror showing in their faces, and the tramp seemed to consider the situation as too serious for comment. He moved closer to the two boys, but was almost immediately forced back by the savages.

In a moment the war chants and ejaculations of victory died out while two savages who seemed to be in charge of the party spoke together.

During this silence, tense with excitement, the distant chug, chug, chug of motors beat the air. The boys looked aloft for an aeroplane, yet did not understand how one could possibly be there!