TOM SWIFT IN THE LAND OF WONDERS

OR

The Underground Search

for the Idol of Gold

BY VICTOR APPLETON

AUTHOR OF

"TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTORCYCLE,"

"TOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG TUNNEL,"

"THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS SERIES,"

"THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS SERIES," ETC.

THE TOM SWIFT SERIES

1 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR CYCLE

2 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR BOAT

3 TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIP

4 TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT

5 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUT

6 TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGE

7 TOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERS

8 TOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICE

9 TOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACER

10 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLE

11 TOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLD

12 TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR GLIDER

13 TOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITY

14 TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERA

15 TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHT

16 TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNON

17 TOM SWIFT AND HIS PHOTO TELEPHONE

18 TOM SWIFT AND HIS AERIAL WARSHIP

19 TOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG TUNNEL

20 TOM SWIFT IN THE LAND OF WONDERS

21 TOM SWIFT AND HIS WAR TANK

22 TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR SCOUT

23 TOM SWIFT AND HIS UNDERSEA SEARCH

24 TOM SWIFT AMONG THE FIRE FIGHTERS

25 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC LOCOMOTIVE

26 TOM SWIFT AND HIS FLYING BOAT

27 TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT OIL GUSHER

28 TOM SWIFT AND HIS CHEST OF SECRETS

29 TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRLINE EXPRESS

***

Tom Swift in the Land of Wonders

CONTENTS

I A WONDERFUL STORY

II PROFESSOR BUMPER ARRIVES

III BLESSINGS AND ENTHUSIASM

IV FENIMORE BEECHER

V THE LITTLE GREEN GOD

VI UNPLEASANT NEWS

VII TOM HEARS SOMETHING

VIII OFF FOR HONDURAS

IX VAL JACINTO

X IN THE WILDS

XI THE VAMPIRES

XII A FALSE FRIEND

XIII FORWARD AGAIN

XIV A NEW GUIDE

XV IN THE COILS

XVI A MEETING IN THE JUNGLE

XVII THE LOST MAP

XVIII "EL TIGRE!"

XIX POISONED ARROWS

XX AN OLD LEGEND

XXI THE CAVERN

XXII THE STORM

XXIII ENTOMBED ALIVE

XXIV THE REVOLVING STONE

XXV THE IDOL OF GOLD

TOM SWIFT IN THE LAND OF WONDERS

CHAPTER I

A WONDERFUL STORY

Tom Swift, who had been slowly looking

through the pages of a magazine, in the contents

of which he seemed to be deeply interested,

turned the final folio, ruffled the sheets back

again to look at a certain map and drawing, and

then, slapping the book down on a table before

him, with a noise not unlike that of a shot,

exclaimed:

"Well, that is certainly one wonderful story!"

"What's it about, Tom?" asked his chum, Ned

Newton. "Something about inside baseball, or a

new submarine that can be converted into an

airship on short notice?"

"Neither one, you--you unscientific heathen,"

answered Tom, with a laugh at Ned. "Though

that isn't saying such a machine couldn't be invented."

"I believe you--that is if you got on its trail,"

returned Ned, and there was warm admiration in

his voice.

"As for inside baseball, or outside, for that

matter, I hardly believe I'd be able to tell third

base from the second base, it's so long since I

went to a game," proceeded Tom. "I've been

too busy on that new airship stabilizer dad gave

me an idea for. I've been working too hard,

that's a fact. I need a vacation, and maybe a

good baseball game----"

He stopped and looked at the magazine he had

so hastily slapped down. Something he had read

in it seemed to fascinate him.

"I wonder if it can possibly be true," he went

on. "It sounds like the wildest dream of a

professional sleep-walker; and yet, when I stop to

think, it isn't much worse than some of the

things we've gone through with, Ned."

"Say, for the love of rice-pudding! will you

get down to brass tacks and strike a trial

balance? What are you talking of, anyhow? Is it

a joke?"

"A joke?"

"Yes. What you just read in that magazine

which seems to cause you so much excitement."

"Well, it may be a joke; and yet the professor

seems very much in earnest about it," replied

Tom. "It certainly is one wonderful story!"

"So you said before. Come on--the `fillium'

is busted. Splice it, or else put in a new reel and

on with the show. I'd like to know what's doing.

What professor are you talking of?"

"Professor Swyington Bumper."

"Swyington Bumper?" and Ned's voice

showed that his memory was a bit hazy.

"Yes. You ought to remember him. He was

on the steamer when I went down to Peru to

help the Titus Brothers dig the big tunnel. That

plotter Waddington, or some of his tools,

dropped a bomb where it might have done us

some injury, but Professor Bumper, who was a

fellow passenger, on his way to South America

to look for the lost city of Pelone, calmly picked

up the bomb, plucked out the fuse, and saved

us from bad injuries, if not death. And he was

as cool about it as an ice-cream cone. Surely

you remember!"

"Swyington Bumper! Oh, yes, now I remember

him," said Ned Newton. "But what has

he got to do with a wonderful story? Has he

written more about the lost city of Pelone? If

he has I don't see anything so very wonderful

in that."

"There isn't," agreed Tom. "But this isn't

that," and Tom picked up the magazine and

leafed it to find the article he had been reading.

"Let's have a look at it," suggested Ned. "You

act as though you might be vitally interested

in it. Maybe you're thinking of joining forces

with the professor again, as you did when you

dug the big tunnel."

"Oh, no. I haven't any such idea," Tom said.

"I've got enough work laid out now to keep me

in Shopton for the next year. I have no notion

of going anywhere with Professor Bumper. Yet

I can't help being impressed by this," and,

having found the article in the magazine to which

he referred, he handed it to his chum.

"Why, it's by Bumper himself!" exclaimed Ned.

"Yes. Though there's nothing remarkable in

that, seeing that he is constantly contributing

articles to various publications or writing books.

It's the story itself that's so wonderful. To

save you the trouble of wading through a lot

of scientific detail, which I know you don't care

about, I'll tell you that the story is about a queer

idol of solid gold, weighing many pounds, and,

in consequence, of great value."

"Of solid gold you say?" asked Ned eagerly.

"That's it. Got on your banking air already,"

Tom laughed. "To sum it up for you--notice

I use the word `sum,' which is very appropriate

for a bank--the professor has got on the track

of another lost or hidden city. This one, the

name of which doesn't appear, is in the Copan

valley of Honduras, and----"

"Copan," interrupted Ned. "It sounds like

the name of some new floor varnish."

"Well, it isn't, though it might be," laughed

Tom. "Copan is a city, in the Department of

Copan, near the boundary between Honduras and

Guatemala. A fact I learned from the article

and not because I remembered my geography."

"I was going to say," remarked Ned with a

smile, "that you were coming it rather strong

on the school-book stuff."

"Oh, it's all plainly written down there," and

Tom waved toward the magazine at which Ned

was looking. "As you'll see, if you take the

trouble to go through it, as I did, Copan is, or

maybe was, for all I know, one of the most

important centers of the Mayan civilization."

"What's Mayan?" asked Ned. "You see I'm

going to imbibe my information by the deductive

rather than the excavative process," he added

with a laugh.

"I see," laughed Tom. "Well, Mayan refers

to the Mayas, an aboriginal people of Yucatan.

The Mayas had a peculiar civilization of their

own, thousands of years ago, and their calendar

system was so involved----"

"Never mind about dates," again interrupted

Ned. "Get down to brass tacks. I'm willing

to take your word for it that there's a Copan

valley in Honduras. But what has your friend

Professor Bumper to do with it?"

"This. He has come across some old

manuscripts, or ancient document records, referring

to this valley, and they state, according to this

article he has written for the magazine, that

somewhere in the valley is a wonderful city,

traces of which have been found twenty to forty

feet below the surface, on which great trees are

growing, showing that the city was covered

hundreds, if not thousands, of years ago."

"But where does the idol of gold come in?"

"I'm coming to that," said Tom. "Though,

if Professor Bumper has his way, the idol will

be coming out instead of coming in."

"You mean he wants to get it and take it

away from the Copan valley, Tom?"

"That's it, Ned. It has great value not only

from the amount of pure gold that is in it, but

as an antique. I fancy the professor is more

interested in that aspect of it. But he's written

a wonderful story, telling how he happened to

come across the ancient manuscripts in the tomb

of some old Indian whose mummy he unearthed

on a trip to Central America.

"Then he tells of the trouble he had in

discovering how to solve the key to the translation

code; but when he did, he found a great story

unfolded to him.

"This story has to do with the hidden city,

and tells of the ancient civilization of those who

lived in the Copan valley thousands of years ago.

The people held this idol of gold to be their

greatest treasure, and they put to death many of

other tribes who sought to steal it."

"Whew!" whistled Ned. "That IS some yarn.

But what is Professor Bumper going to do about it?"

"I don't know. The article seems to be written

with an idea of interesting scientists and

research societies, so that they will raise money

to conduct a searching expedition.

"Perhaps by this time the party may be

organized--this magazine is several months old.

I have been so busy on my stabilizer patent that

I haven't kept up with current literature. Take

it home and read it! Ned. That is if you're

through telling me about my affairs," for Ned,

who had formerly worked in the Shopton bank,

had recently been made general financial man-

ager of the interests of Tom and his father. The

two were inventors and proverbially poor business

men, though they had amassed a fortune.

"Your financial affairs are all right, Tom," said

Ned. "I have just been going over the books,

and I'll submit a detailed report later."

The telephone bell rang and Tom picked up

the instrument from the desk. As he answered in

the usual way and then listened a moment, a

strange look came over his face.

"Well, this certainly is wonderful!" he exclaimed,

in much the same manner as when he had finished

reading the article about the idol. "It certainly

is a strange coincidence," he added,

speaking in an aside to Ned while he himself

still listened to what was being told to him

over the telephone wire.

CHAPTER II

PROFESSOR BUMPER ARRIVES

"What's the matter, Tom? What is it?"

asked Ned Newton, attracted by the strange

manner of his chum at the telephone. "Has

anything happened?"

But the young inventor was too busy listening

to the unseen speaker to answer his chum,

even if he heard what Ned remarked, which is

doubtful.

"Well, I might as well wait until he is

through," mused Ned, as he started to leave the

room. Then as Tom motioned to him to remain,

he murmured: "He may have something

to say to me later. But I wonder who is talking

to him."

There was no way of finding out, however,

until Tom had a chance to talk to Ned, and at

present the young scientist was eagerly listening

to what came over the wire. Occasionally Ned

could hear him say:

"You don't tell me! That is surprising! Yes

--yes! Of course if it's true it means a big

thing, I can understand that. What's that? No,

I couldn't make a promise like that. I'm sorry,

but----"

Then the person at the other end of the wire

must have plunged into something very interesting

and absorbing, for Tom did not again

interrupt by interjected remarks.

Tom. Swift, as has been said, was an inventor,

as was his father. Mr. Swift was now rather old

and feeble, taking only a nominal part in the

activities of the firm made up of himself and his

son. But his inventions were still used, many

of them being vital to the business and trade of

this country.

Tom and his father lived in the village of

Shopton, New York, and their factories covered

many acres of ground. Those who wish to read

of the earliest activities of Tom in the inventive

line are referred to the initial volume, "Tom

Swift and His Motor Cycle." From then on he

and his father had many and exciting adventures.

In a motor boat, an airship, and a submarine

respectively the young inventor had gone through

many perils. On some of the trips his chum,

Ned Newton, accompanied him, and very often

in the party was a Mr. Wakefield Damon, who

had a curious habit of "blessing" everything

that happened to strike his fancy.

Besides Tom and his father, the Swift household

was made up of Eradicate Sampson, a colored

man-of-all-work, who, with his mule Boomerang,

did what he could to keep the grounds

around the house in order. There was also Mrs.

Baggert, the housekeeper, Tom's mother being

dead. Mr. Damon, living in a neighboring town,

was a frequent visitor in the Swift home.

Mary Nestor, a girl of Shopton, might also

be mentioned. She and Tom were more than

just good friends. Tom had an idea that some

day----. But there, I promised not to tell that

part, at least until the young people themselves

were ready to have a certain fact announced.

From one activity to another had Tom Swift

gone, now constructing some important invention

for himself, as among others, when he made

the photo-telephone, or developed a great

searchlight which he presented to the Government

for use in detecting smugglers on the

border.

The book immediately preceding this is called

"Tom Swift and His Bit, Tunnel," and deals

with the efforts of the young inventor to help a

firm of contractors penetrate a mountain in

Peru. How this was done and how, incidental-

ly, the lost city of Pelone was discovered, bringing

joy to the heart of Professor Swyington

Bumper, will be found fully set forth in the book.

Tom had been back from the Peru trip for

some months, when we again find him interested

in some of the work of Professor Bumper,

as set forth in the magazine mentioned.

"Well, he certainly is having some conversation,"

reflected Ned, as, after more than five

minutes, Tom's ear was still at the receiver of

the instrument, into the transmitter of which

he had said only a few words.

"All right," Tom finally answered, as he hung

the receiver up, "I'll be here," and then he turned

to Ned, whose curiosity had been growing with

the telephone talk, and remarked:

"That certainly was wonderful!"

"What was?" asked Ned. "Do you think I'm

a mind reader to be able to guess?"

"No, indeed! I beg your pardon. I'll tell you

at once. But I couldn't break away. It was

too important. To whom do you think I was

talking just then?"

"I can imagine almost any one, seeing I know

something of what you have done. It might be

almost anybody from some person you met up

in the caves of ice to a red pygmy from the

wilds of Africa."

"I'm afraid neither of them would be quite

up to telephone talk yet," laughed Tom. "No,

this was the gentleman who wrote that interesting

article about the idol of gold," and he

motioned to the magazine Ned held in his hand.

"You don't mean Professor Bumper!"

"That's just whom I do mean."

"What did he want? Where did he call

from?"

"He wants me to help organize an expedition

to go to Central America--to the Copan valley,

to be exact--to look for this somewhat mythical

idol of gold. Incidentally the professor will

gather in any other antiques of more or less

value, if he can find any, and he hopes, even if he

doesn't find the idol, to get enough historical

material for half a dozen books, to say nothing

of magazine articles."

"Where did he call from; did you say?"

"I didn't say. But it was a long-distance call

from New York. The Professor stopped off

there on his way from Boston, where he has been

lecturing before some society. And now he's

coming here to see me," finished Tom.

"What! Is he going to lecture here?" cried

Ned. "If he is, and spouts a whole lot of that

bone-dry stuff about the ancient Mayan civilization

and their antiquities, with side lights on

how the old-time Indians used to scalp their

enemies, I'm going to the moving pictures! I'm

willing to be your financial manager, Tom Swift,

but please don't ask me to be a high-brow. I

wasn't built for that."

"Nor I, Ned. The professor isn't going to

lecture. He's only going to talk, he says."

"What about?"

"He's going to try to induce me to join his

expedition to the Copan valley."

"Do you feel inclined to go?"

"No, Ned, I do not. I've got too many other

irons in the fire. I shall have to give the professor

a polite but firm refusal."

"Well, maybe you're right, Tom; and yet that

idol of gold--GOLD--weighing how many pounds

did you say?"

"Oh, you're thinking of its money value, Ned,

old man!"

"Yes, I'd like to see what a big chunk of gold

like that would bring. It must be quite a nugget.

But I'm not likely to get a glimpse of it

if you don't go with the professor."

"I don't see how I can go, Ned. But come

over and meet the delightful gentleman when

he arrives. I expect him day after to-morrow."

"I'll be here," promised Ned; and then he

went downtown to attend to some matters con-

nected with his new duties, which were much

less irksome than those he had had when he

had been in the bank.

"Well, Tom, have you heard any more about

your friend?" asked Ned, two days later, as he

came to the Swift home with some papers needing

the signature of the young inventor and his

father.

"You mean----?"

"Professor Bumper."

"No, I haven't heard from him since he

telephoned. But I guess he'll be here all right.

He's very punctual. Did you see anything of

my giant Koku as you came in?"

"Yes, he and Eradicate were having an

argument about who should move a heavy casting

from one of the shops. Rad wanted to do it

all alone, but Koku said he was like a baby now."

"Poor Rad is getting old," said Tom with a

sigh. "But he has been very faithful. He and

Koku never seem to get along well together."

Koku was an immense man, a veritable giant,

one of two whom Tom had brought back with

him after an exciting trip to a strange land. The

giant's strength was very useful to the young

inventor.

"Now Tom, about this business of leasing to

the English Government the right to manufac-

ture that new explosive of yours," began Ned,

plunging into the business at hand. "I think

if you stick out a little you can get a better

royalty price."

"But I don't want to gouge 'em, Ned. I'm

satisfied with a fair profit. The trouble with

you is you think too much of money. Now----"

At that moment a voice was heard in the hall

of the house saying:

"Now, my dear lady, don't trouble yourself.

I can find my way in to Tom Swift perfectly well

by myself, and while I appreciate your courtesy

I do not want to trouble you."

"No, don't come, Mrs. Baggert," added another

voice. "Bless my hat band, I think I know my

way about the house by this time!"

"Mr. Damon!" ejaculated Ned.

"And Professor Bumper is with him," added

Tom. "Come in!" he cried, opening the hall

door, to confront a bald-headed man who stood

peering at our hero with bright snapping eyes,

like those of some big bird spying out the land

from afar. "Come in, Professor Bumper; and

you too, Mr. Damon!"

CHAPTER III

BLESSINGS AND ENTHUSIASM

Greetings and inquiries as to health having

been passed, not without numerous blessings on

the part of Mr. Damon, the little party gathered

in the library of the home of Tom Swift sat

down and looked at one another.

On Professor Bumper's face there was, plainly

to be seen, a look of expectation, and it seemed

to be shared by Mr. Damon, who seemed eager

to burst into enthusiastic talk. On the other

hand Tom Swift appeared a bit indifferent.

Ned himself admitted that he was frankly

curious. The story of the big idol of gold had

occupied his thoughts for many hours.

"Well, I'm glad to see you both," said Tom

again. "You got here all right, I see, Professor

Bumper. But I didn't expect you to meet and

bring Mr. Damon with you."

"I met him on the train," explained the author

of the book on the lost city of Pelone, as well

as books on other antiquities. "I had no

expectation of seeing him, and we were both

surprised when we met on the express."

"It stopped at Waterfield, Tom," explained

Mr. Damon, "which it doesn't usually do, being

an aristocratic sort of train, not given even to

hesitating at our humble little town. There

were some passengers to get off, which caused

the flier to stop, I suppose. And, as I wanted

to come over to see you, I got aboard."

"Glad you did," voiced Tom.

"Then I happened to see Professor Bumper a

few seats ahead of me," went on Mr. Damon,

"and, bless my scarfpin! he was coming to see

you also."

"Well, I'm doubly glad," answered Tom.

"So here we are," went on Mr. Damon, "and

you've simply got to come, Tom Swift. You

must go with us!" and Mr. Damon, in his

enthusiasm, banged his fist down on the table with

such force that he knocked some books to the floor.

Koku, the giant, who was in the hall, opened

the door and in his imperfect English asked:

"Master Tom knock for him bigs man?"

"No," answered Tom with a smile, "I didn't knock

or call you, Koku. Some books fell, that is all."

"Massa Tom done called fo' me, dat's what he done!"

broke in the petulant voice of Eradicate.

"No, Rad, I don't need anything," Tom said.

"Though you might make a pitcher of lemonade.

It's rather warm."

"Right away, Massa Tom! Right away!" cried

the old colored man, eager to be of service.

"Me help, too!" rumbled Koku, in his deep

voice. "Me punch de lemons!" and away he

hurried after Eradicate, fearful lest the old

servant do all the honors.

"Same old Rad and Koku," observed Mr.

Damon with a smile. "But now, Tom, while

they're making the lemonade, let's get down to

business. You're going with us, of course!"

"Where?" asked Tom, more from habit than

because he did not know.

"Where? Why to Honduras, of course! After

the idol of gold! Why, bless my fountain pen,

it's the most wonderful story I ever heard of!

You've read Professor Bumper's article, of

course. He told me you had. I read it on the

train coming over. He also told me about it,

and---- Well, I'm going with him, Tom Swift.

"And think of all the adventures that may

befall us! We'll get lost in buried cities, ride down

raging torrents on a raft, fall over a cliff maybe

and be rescued. Why, it makes me feel quite

young again!" and Mr. Damon arose, to pace

excitedly up and down the room.

Up to this time Professor Bumper had said

very little. He had sat still in his chair

listening to Mr. Damon. But now that the latter had

ceased, at least for a time, Tom and Ned looked

toward the scientist.

"I understand, Tom," he said, "that you read

my article in the magazine, about the possibility

of locating some of the lost and buried cities of

Honduras?"

"Yes, Ned and I each read it. It was quite

wonderful."

"And yet there are more wonders to tell," went

on the professor. "I did not give all the details

in that article. I will tell you some of them. I

have brought copies of the documents with me,"

and he opened a small valise and took out several

bundles tied with pink tape.

"As Mr. Damon said," he went on while

arranging his papers, "he met me on the train, and

he was so taken by the story of the idol of gold

that he agreed to accompany me to Central America."

"On one condition!" put in the eccentric man.

"What's that? You didn't make any conditions

while we were talking," said the scientist.

"Yes, I said I'd go if Tom Swift did."

"Oh, yes. You did say that. But I don't call

that a condition, for of course Tom Swift will go.

Now let me tell you something more than I could

impart over the telephone.

"Soon after I called you up, Tom--and it was

quite a coincidence that it should have been at a

time when you had just finished my magazine

article. Soon after that, as I was saying, I

arranged to come on to Shopton. And now I'm

glad we're all here together.

"But how comes it, Ned Newton, that you are

not in the bank?"

"I've left there," explained Ned.

"He's now general financial man for the Swift

Company," Tom explained. "My father and I

found that we could not look after the inventing

and experimental end, and money matters, too,

and as Ned had had considerable experience this

way we made him take over those worries," and

Tom laughed genially.

"No worries at all, as far as the Swift

Company is concerned," returned Ned.

"Well, I guess you earn your salary," laughed

Tom. "But now, Professor Bumper, let's hear

from you. Is there anything more about this

idol of gold that you can tell us?"

"Plenty, Tom, plenty. I could talk all day,

and not get to the end of the story. But a lot

of it would be scientific detail that might be too

dry for you in spite of this excellent lemonade,"

Between them Koku and Eradicate had managed

to make a pitcher of the beverage, though

Mrs. Baggert, the housekeeper, told Tom afterward

that the two had a quarrel in the kitchen

as to who should squeeze the lemons, the giant

insisting that he had the better right to "punch"

them.

"So, not to go into too many details," went on

the professor, "I'll just give you a brief outline

of this story of the idol of gold.

"Honduras, as you of course know, is a

republic of Central America, and it gets its name

from something that happened on the fourth

voyage of Columbus. He and his men had had

days of weary sailing and had sought in vain

for shallow water in which they might come to

an anchorage. Finally they reached the point

now known as Cape Gracias-a-Dios, and when

they let the anchor go, and found that in a short

time it came to rest on the floor of the ocean,

some one of the sailors--perhaps Columbus himself--

is said to have remarked:

"`Thank the Lord, we have left the deep

waters (honduras)' that being the Spanish word

for unfathomable depths. So Honduras it was

called, and has been to this day.

"It is a queer land with many traces of an

ancient civilization, a civilization which I

believe dates back farther than some in the far

East. On the sculptured stones in the Copan

valley there are characters which seem to

resemble very ancient writing, but this pictographic

writing is largely untranslatable.

"Honduras, I might add, is about the size of

our state of Ohio. It is rather an elevated table-

land, though there are stretches of tropical

forest, but it is not so tropical a country as many

suppose it to be. There is much gold scattered

throughout Honduras, though of late it has not

been found in large quantities.

"In the old days, however, before the Spaniards

came, it was plentiful, so much, so that the

natives made idols of it. And it is one of the

largest of these idols--by name Quitzel--that I

am going to seek."

"Do you know where it is?" asked Ned.

"Well, it isn't locked up in a safe deposit box,

of that I'm sure," laughed the professor. "No,

I don't know exactly where it is, except that it

is somewhere in an ancient and buried city

known as Kurzon. If I knew exactly where

it was there wouldn't be much fun in going after

it. And if it was known to others it would have

been taken away long ago.

"No, we've got to hunt for the idol of gold

in this land of wonders where I hope soon to be.

Later on I'll show you the documents that put

me on the track of this idol. Enough now to

show you an old map I found, or, rather, a copy

of it, and some of the papers that tell of the idol,"

and he spread out his packet of papers on the

table in front of him, his eyes shining with

excitement and pleasure. Mr. Damon, too, leaned

eagerly forward.

"So, Tom Swift," went on the professor, "I

come to you for help in this matter. I want

you to aid me in organizing an expedition to go

to Honduras after the idol of gold. Will you?"

"I'll help you, of course," said Tom. "You

may use any of my inventions you choose--my

airships, my motor boats and submarines, even

my giant cannon if you think you can take it

with you. And as for the money part, Ned will

arrange that for you. But as for going with you

myself, it is out of the question. I can't. No

Honduras for me!"

CHAPTER IX

FENIMORE BEECHER

Had Tom Swift's giant cannon been discharged

somewhere in the vicinity of his home it could

have caused but little more astonishment to

Mr. Damon and Professor Bumper than did the

simple announcement of the young inventor.

The professor seemed to shrink back in his chair,

collapsing like an automobile tire when the air

is let out. As for Mr. Damon he jumped up and

cried:

"Bless my----!"

But that is as far as he got--at least just then.

He did not seem to know what to bless, but he

looked as though he would have liked to include

most of the universe.

"Surely you don't mean it, Tom Swift,"

gasped Professor Bumper at length. "Won't

you come with us?"

"No," said Tom, slowly. "Really I can't go.

I'm working on an invention of a new aeroplane

stabilizer, and if I go now it will be just at a

time when I am within striking distance of success.

And the stabilizer is very much needed."

"If it's a question of making a profit on it,

Tom," began Mr. Damon, "I can let you have

some money until----"

"Oh, no! It isn't the money!" cried Tom.

"Don't think that for a moment. You see the

European war has called for the use of a large

number of aeroplanes, and as the pilots of them

frequently have to fight, and so can not give their

whole attention to the machines, some form of

automatic stabilizer is needed to prevent them

turning turtle, or going off at a wrong tangent.

"So I have been working out a sort of

modified gyroscope, and it seems to answer the

purpose. I have already received advance orders

for a number of my devices from abroad, and as

they are destined to save lives I feel that I ought

to keep on with my work.

"I'd like to go, don't misunderstand me, but

I can't go at this time. It is out of the question.

If you wait a year, or maybe six months----"

"No, it is impossible to wait, Tom," declared

Professor Bumper.

"Is it so important then to hurry?" asked Mr.

Damon. "You did not mention that to me, Professor

Bumper."

"No, I did not have time. There are so many ends

to my concerns. But, Tom Swift, you simply must go!"

"I can't, my dear professor, much as I should like to."

"But, Tom, think of it!" cried Mr. Damon,

who was as much excited as was the little bald-

headed scientist. "You never saw such an idol

of gold as this. What's its name?" and he

looked questioningly at the professor.

"Quitzel the idol is called," supplied Professor

Bumper. "And it is supposed to be in a

buried city named Kurzon, somewhere in the

Sierra de Merendon range of mountains, in the

vicinity of the Copan valley. Copan is a city,

or maybe we'll find it only a town when we get

there, and it is not far from the borders of

Guatemala.

"Tom, if I could show you the translations I

have made of the ancient documents, referring

to this idol and the wonderful city over which

it kept guard, I'm sure you'd come with us."

"Please don't tempt me," Tom said with a

laugh. "I'm only too anxious to go, and if it

wasn't for the stabilizer I'd be with you in a

minute. But---- Well, you'll have to get along

without me. Maybe I can join you later."

"What's this about the idol keeping guard

over the ancient city?" asked Ned, for he was

interested in strange stories.

"It seems," explained the professor, "that in

the early days there was a strange race of people,

inhabiting Central America, with a somewhat

high civilization, only traces of which remained

when the Spaniards came.

"But these traces, and such hieroglyphics, or,

to be more exact pictographs, as I have been able

to decipher from the old documents, tell of one

country, or perhaps it was only a city, over which

this great golden idol of Quitzel presided.

"There is in some of these papers a description

of the idol, which is not exactly a beauty,

judged from modern standards. But the main

fact is that it is made of solid gold, and may

weigh anywhere from one to two tons."

"Two tons of gold!" cried New Newton. "Why,

if that's the case it would be worth----" and

he fell to doing a sum in mental arithmetic.

"I am not so concerned about the monetary

value of the statue as I am about its antiquity,"

went on Professor Bumper. "There are other

statues in this buried city of Kurzon, and though

they may not be so valuable they will give me

a wealth of material for my research work."

"How do you know there are other statues?"

asked Mr. Damon.

"Because my documents tell me so. It was

because the people made other idols, in opposition,

as it were, to Quitzel, that their city or

country was destroyed. At least that is the

legend. Quitzel, so the story goes, wanted to be

the chief god, and when the image of a rival was

set up in the temple near him, he toppled over

in anger, and part of the temple went with him,

the whole place being buried in ruins. All the

inhabitants were killed, and trace of the ancient

city was lost forever. No, I hope not forever,

for I expect to find it."

"If all the people were killed, and the city

buried, how did the story of Quitzel become

known?" asked Mr. Damon.

"One only of the priests in the temple of

Quitzel escaped and set down part of the tale," said

the professor. "It is his narrative, or one based

on it, that I have given you."

"And now, what I want to do, is to go and

make a search for this buried city. I have fairly

good directions as to how it may be reached.

We will have little difficulty in getting to

Honduras, as there are fruit steamers frequently

sailing. Of course going into the interior--to the

Copan valley--is going to be harder. But an

expedition from a large college was recently

there and succeeded, after much labor, in ex-

cavating part of a buried city. Whether or not

it was Kurzon I am unable to say.

"But if there was one ancient city there must

be more. So I want to make an attempt. And

I counted on you, Tom. You have had considerable

experience in strange quarters of the earth,

and you're just the one to help me. I don't

need money, for I have interested a certain

millionaire, and my own college will put up part

of the funds."

"Oh, it isn't a question of money," said Tom.

"It's time."

"That's just what it is with me!" exclaimed

Professor Bumper. "I haven't any time to lose.

My rivals may, even now, be on their way to Honduras!"

"Your rivals!" cried Tom. "You didn't say anything about them!"

"No, I believe I didn't There were so many

other things to talk about. But there is a rival

archaeologist who would ask nothing better than

to get ahead of me in this matter. He is younger

than I am, and youth is a big asset nowadays."

"Pooh! You're not old!" cried Mr. Damon.

"You're no older than I am, and I'm still young.

I'm a lot younger than some of these boys who

are afraid to tackle a trip through a tropical

wilderness," and he playfully nudged Tom in the ribs.

"I'm not a bit afraid!" retorted the young inventor.

"No, I know you're not," laughed Mr. Damon.

"But I've got to say something, Tom, to stir you

up. Ned, how about you? Would you go?"

"I can't, unless Tom does. You see I'm his

financial man now."

"There you are, Tom Swift!" cried Mr. Damon.

"You see you are holding back a number

of persons just because you don't want to go."

"I certainly wouldn't like to go without Tom,"

said the professor slowly. "I really need his

help. You know, Tom, we would never have

found the city of Pelone if it had not been for

you and your marvelous powder. The conditions

in the Copan valley are likely to be still

more difficult to overcome, and I feel that I risk

failure without your young energy and your

inventive mind to aid in the work and to suggest

possible means of attaining our object. Come,

Tom, reconsider, and decide to make the trip."

"And my promise to go was dependent on

Tom's agreement to accompany us," said Mr.

Damon

"Come on!" urged the professor, much as one boy

might urge another to take part in a ball game.

"Don't let my rival get ahead of me."

"I wouldn't like to see that," Tom said slowly.

"Who is he--any one I know?"

"I don't believe so, Tom. He's connected

with a large, new college that has plenty of

money to spend on explorations and research

work. Beecher is his name--Fenimore Beecher."

"Beecher!" exclaimed Tom, and there was

such a change in his manner that his friends

could not help noticing it. He jumped to his

feet, his eyes snapping, and he looked eagerly

and anxiously at Professor Bumper.

"Did you say his name was Fenimore Beecher?"

Tom asked in a tense voice.

"That's what it is--Professor Fenimore Beecher.

He is really a learned young man, and

thoroughly in earnest, though I do not like his

manner. But he is trying to get ahead of me,

which may account for my feeling."

Tom Swift did not answer. Instead he hurried

from the room with a murmured apology.

"I'll be back in about five minutes," he said,

as he went out.

"Well, what's up now?" asked Mr. Damon of

Ned, as the young inventor departed. "What

set him off that way?"

"The mention of Beecher's name, evidently.

Though I never heard him mention such a person

before."

"Nor did I ever hear Professor Beecher speak

of Tom," said the bald-headed scientist. "Well,

we'll just have to wait until----"

At that moment Tom came back into the room.

"Gentlemen," he said, "I have reconsidered my

refusal to go to the Copan valley after the idol

of gold. I'm going with you!"

"Good!" cried Professor Bumper.

"Fine!" ejaculated Mr. Damon. "Bless my time-table!

I thought you'd come around, Tom Swift."

"But what about your stabilizer?" asked Ned.

"I was just talking to my father about it,'

the young inventor replied. "He will be able

to put the finishing touches on it. So I'll leave

it with him. As soon as I can get ready I'll go,

since you say haste is necessary, Professor Bumper."

"It is, if we are to get ahead of Beecher."

"Then we'll get ahead of him!" cried Tom.

"I'm with you now from the start to the finish.

I'll show him what I can do!" he added, while

Ned and the others wondered at the sudden

change in their friend's manner.

CHAPTER V

THE LITTLE GREEN GOD

"Tom how soon can we go?" asked Professor

Bumper, as he began arranging his papers, maps

and documents ready to place them back in the

valise.

"Within a week, if you want to start that

soon."

"The sooner the better. A week will suit me.

I don't know just what Beecher's plans are, but,

he may try to get on the ground first. Though,

without boasting, I may say that he has not had

as much experience as I have had, thanks to

you, Tom, when you helped me find the lost city

of Pelone."

"Well, I hope we'll be as successful this time,"

murmured Tom. "I don't want to see Beecher

beat you."

"I didn't know you knew him, Tom," said the

professor.

"Oh, yes, I have met him. once," and there

was something in Tom's manner, though he tried

to speak indifferently, that made Ned believe

there was more behind his chum's sudden change

of determination than had yet appeared.

"He never mentioned you," went on Professor

Bumper; "yet the last time I saw him I said I

was coming to see you, though I did not tell

him why."

"No, he wouldn't be likely to speak of me,"

said Tom significantly.

"Well, if that's all settled, I guess I'll go back

home and pack up," said Mr. Damon, making a

move to depart.

"There's no special rush," Tom said. "We

won't leave for a week. I can't get ready in

much less time than that."

"Bless my socks! I know that," ejaculated Mr.

Damon. "But if I get my things packed I can

go to a hotel to stay while my wife is away. She

might take a notion to come home unexpectedly,

and, though she is a dear, good soul, she doesn't

altogether approve of my going off on these wild

trips with you, Tom Swift. But if I get all

packed, and clear out, she can't find me and she

can't hold me back. She is visiting her mother

now. I can send her a wire from Kurzon after

I get there."

"I don't believe the telegraph there is work-

ing," laughed Professor Bumper. "But suit

yourself. I must go back to New York to arrange

for the goods we'll have to take with us.

In a week, Tom, we'll start."

"You must stay to dinner," Tom said. "You

can't get a train now anyhow, and father wants

to meet you again. He's pretty well, considering

his age. And he's much better I verily

believe since I said I'd turn over to him the task

of finishing the stabilizer. He likes to work."

"We'll stay and take the night train back,"

agreed Mr. Damon. "It will be like old times,

Tom," he went on, "traveling off together into

the wilds. Central America is pretty wild, isn't

it?" he asked, as if in fear of being disappointed!

on that score.

"Oh, it's wild enough to suit any one,"

answered Professor Bumper.

"Well, now to settle a few details," observed

Tom. "Ned, what is the situation as regards the

financial affairs of my father and myself? Nothing

will come to grief if we go away, will there?"

"I guess not, Tom. But are you going to take

your father with you?"

"No, of course not."

"But you spoke of `we.' "

"I meant you and I are going."

"Me, Tom?"

"Sure, you! I wouldn't think of leaving you

behind. You want Ned along, don't you, Professor?"

"Of course. It will be an ideal party--we

four. We'll have to take natives when we get

to Honduras, and make up a mule pack-train for

the interior. I had some thoughts of asking

you to take an airship along, but it might frighten

the Indians, and I shall have to depend on

them for guides, as well as for porters. So it

will be an old-fashioned expedition, in a way."

Mr. Swift came in at this point to meet his old

friends.

"The boy needs a little excitement," he said.

"He's been puttering over that stabilizer invention

too long. I can finish the model for him

in a very short time."

Professor Bumper told Mr. Swift something

about the proposed trip, while Mr. Damon went

out with Tom and Ned to one of the shops to

look at a new model aeroplane the young inventor

had designed.

There was a merry party around the table at

dinner, though now and then Ned noticed that

Tom had an abstracted and preoccupied air.

"Thinking about the idol of gold?" asked Ned

in a whisper to his chum, when they were about

to leave the table.

"The idol of gold? Oh, yes! Of course! It

will be great if we can bring that back with us."

But the manner in which he said this made Ned

feel sure that Tom had had other thoughts,

and that he had used a little subterfuge in his

answer.

Ned was right, as he proved for himself a little

later, when, Mr. Damon and the professor having

gone home, the young financial secretary

took his friend to a quiet corner and asked:

"What's the matter, Tom?"

"Matter? What do you mean?"

"I mean what made you make up your mind

so quickly to go on this expedition when you

heard Beecher was going?"

"Oh--er--well, you wouldn't want to see our

old friend Professor Bumper left, would you,

after he had worked out the secret of the idol

of gold? You wouldn't want some young

whipper-snapper to beat him in the race, would

you, Ned?"

"No, of course not."

"Neither would I. That's why I changed my

mind. This Beecher isn't going to get that idol

if I can stop him!"

"You seem rather bitter against him."

"Bitter? Oh, not at all. I simply don't want

to see my friends disappointed."

"Then Beecher isn't a friend of yours?"

"Oh, I've met him, that is all," and Tom tried

to speak indifferently.

"Humph!" mused Ned, "there's more here than I dreamed of.

I'm going to get at the bottom of it."

But though Ned tried to pump Tom, he was

not successful. The young inventor admitted

knowing the youthful scientist, but that was all,

Tom reiterating his determination not to let Professor

Bumper be beaten in the race for the idol

of gold.

"Let me see," mused Ned, as he went home

that evening. "Tom did not change his mind

until he heard Beecher's name mentioned. Now

this shows that Beecher had something to do

with it. The only reason Tom doesn't want

Beecher to get this idol or find the buried city

is because Professor Bumper is after it. And

yet the professor is not an old or close friend

of Tom's. They met only when Tom went to

dig his big tunnel. There must be some other

reason."

Ned did some more thinking. Then he

clapped his hands together, and a smile spread

over his face.

"I believe I have it!" he cried. "The little

green god as compared to the idol of gold!

That's it. I'm going to make a call on my way home."

This he did, stopping at the home of Mary

Nestor, a pretty girl, who, rumor had it, was

tacitly engaged to Tom. Mary was not at home,

but Mr. Nestor was, and for Ned's purpose this

answered.

"Well, well, glad to see you!" exclaimed

Mary's father. "Isn't Tom with you?" he asked

a moment later, seeing that Ned was alone.

"No, Tom isn't with me this evening," Ned

answered. "The fact is, he's getting ready to

go off on another expedition, and I'm going with him."

"You young men are always going somewhere,"

remarked Mrs. Nestor. "Where is it to this time?"

"Some place in Central America," Ned

answered, not wishing to be too particular. He

was wondering how he could find out what he

wanted to know, when Mary's mother unexpectedly

gave him just the information he was after.

"Central America!" she exclaimed. "Why,

Father," and she looked at her husband, "that's

where Professor Beecher is going, isn't it?"

"Yes, I believe he did mention something about that."

"Professor Beecher, the man who is an author-

ity on Aztec ruins?" asked Ned, taking a shot in

the dark.

"Yes," said Mr. Nestor. "And a mighty fine

young man he is, too. I knew his father well.

He was here on a visit not long ago, young

Beecher was, and he talked most entertainingly

about his discoveries. You remember how

interested Mary was, Mother?"

"Yes, she seemed to be," said Mrs. Nestor.

"Tom Swift dropped in during the course of

the evening," she added to Ned, "and Mary

introduced him to Professor Beecher. But I can't

say that Tom was much interested in the

professor's talk."

"No?" questioned Ned.

"No, not at all. But Tom did not stay long.

He left just as Mary and the professor were

drawing a map so the professor could indicate

where he had once made a big discovery."

"I see," murmured Ned. "Well, I suppose

Tom must have been thinking of something else

at the time."

"Very likely," agreed Mr. Nestor. "But Tom

missed a very profitable talk. I was very much

interested myself in what the professor told us,

and so was Mary. She invited Mr. Beecher to

come again. He takes after his father in being

very thorough in what he does.

"Sometimes I think," went on Mr. Nestor, "that

Tom isn't quite steady enough. He's thinking

of so many things, perhaps, that he can't get his

mind down to the commonplace. I remember he

once sent something here in a box labeled

`dynamite.' Though there was no explosive in it,

it gave us a great fright. But Tom is a boy, in

spite of his years. Professor Beecher seems

much older. We all like him very much."

"That's nice," said Ned, as he took his

departure. He had found out what he had come

to learn.

"I knew it!" Ned exclaimed as he walked

home. "I knew something was in the wind.

The little green god of jealousy has Tom in his

clutches. That's why my inventive friend was

so anxious to go on this expedition when he

learned Beecher was to go. He wants to beat

him. I guess the professor has plainly shown

that he wouldn't like anything better than to

cut Tom out with Mary. Whew! that's something

to think about!"

CHAPTER VI

UNPLEASANT NEWS

Ned Newton decided to keep to himself what

he had heard at the Nestor home. Not for the

world would he let Tom Swift know of the

situation.

"That is, I won't let him know that I know,"

said Ned to himself, "though he is probably as

well aware of the situation as I am. But it sure

is queer that this Professor Beecher should have

taken such a fancy to Mary, and that her father

should regard him so well. That is natural,

I suppose. But I wonder how Mary herself

feels about it. That is the part Tom would

be most interested in.

"No wonder Tom wants to get ahead of this

young college chap, who probably thinks he's

the whole show. If he can find the buried city,

and get the idol of gold, it would be a big

feather in his cap.

"He'd have no end of honors heaped on him,

and I suppose his hat wouldn't come within

three sizes of fitting him. Then he'd stand in

better than ever with Mr. Nestor. And, maybe,

with Mary, too, though I think she is loyal

to Tom. But one never can tell.

"However, I'm glad I know about it. I'll

do all I can to help Tom, without letting him

know that I know. And if I can do anything

to help in finding that idol of gold for Professor

Bumper, and, incidentally, Tom, I'll do it," and

he spoke aloud in his enthusiasm.

Ned, who was walking along in the darkness,

clapped his open hand down on Tom's magazine

he was carrying home to read again, and

the resultant noise was a sharp crack. As it

sounded a figure jumped from behind a tree

and called tensely:

"Hold on there!"

Ned stopped short, thinking he was to be

the victim of a holdup, but his fears were

allayed when he beheld one of the police force of

Shopton confronting him.

"I heard what you said about gettin' the gold,"

went on the officer. "I was walkin' along and I

heard you talkin'. Where's your pal?"

"I haven't any, Mr. Newbold," answered Ned

with a laugh, as he recognized the man.

"Oh, pshaw! It's Ned Newton!" exclaimed

the disappointed officer. "I thought you was

talkin' to a confederate about gold, and figured

maybe you was goin' to rob the bank."

"No, nothing like that," answered Ned, still

much amused. "I was talking to myself about

a trip Tom Swift and I are going to take

and----"

"Oh, that's all right," responded the

policeman. "I can understand it, if it had anything to

do with Tom. He's a great boy."

"Indeed he is," agreed Ned, making a mental

resolve not to be so public with his thoughts

in the future. He chatted for a moment with

the officer, and then, bidding him good-night,

walked on to his home, his mind in a whirl with

conglomerate visions of buried cities, great grinning

idols of gold, and rival professors seeking

to be first at the goal.

The next few days were busy ones for Tom,

Ned and, in fact, the whole Swift household.

Tom and his father had several consultations and

conducted several experiments in regard to the

new stabilizer, the completion of which was so

earnestly desired. Mr. Swift was sure he could

carry the invention to a successful conclusion.

Ned was engaged in putting the financial

affairs of the Swift Company in shape, so they

would practically run themselves during his ab-

sence. Then, too, there was the packing of their

baggage which must be seen to.

Of course, the main details of the trip were

left to Professor Bumper, who knew just what

to do. He had told Tom and Ned that all they

and Mr. Damon would have to do would be to

meet him at the pier in New York, where they

would find all arrangements made.

One day, near the end of the week (the beginning

of the next being set for the start) Eradicate

came shuffling into the room where Tom was

sorting out the possessions he desired to take

with him, Ned assisting him in the task.

"Well, Rad, what is it?" asked Tom, with

businesslike energy.

"I done heah, Massa Tom, dat yo' all's gwine

off on a long trip once mo'. Am dat so?"

"Yes, that's so, Rad."

"Well, den, I'se come to ast yo' whut I'd bettah

take wif me. Shall I took warm clothes or cool

clothes?"

"Well, if you were going, Rad," answered Tom

with a smile, "you'd need cool clothes, for we're

going to a sort of jungle-land. But I'm sorry to

say you're not going this trip."

"I---- I ain't gwine? Does yo' mean dat yo'

all ain't gwine to take me, Massa Tom?"

"That's it, Rad. It isn't any trip for you."

"In certain not!" broke in the voice of Koku,

the giant, who entered with a big trunk Tom had

sent him for. "Master want strong man like a

bull. He take Koku!"

"Look heah!" spluttered Eradicate, and his eyes

flashed. "Yo'--yo' giant yo'--yo' may be strong

laik a bull, but ya' ain't got as much sense as

mah mule, Boomerang! Massa Tom don't want

no sich pusson wif him. He's gwine to take me."

"He take me!" cried Koku, and his voice was

a roar while he beat on his mighty chest with his

huge fists.

Tom, seeing that the dispute was likely to be

bothersome, winked at Ned and began to speak.

"I don't believe you'd like it there, Rad--not

where we're going. It's a bad country. Why

the mosquitoes there bite holes in you--raise

bumps on you as big as eggs."

"Oh, good land!" ejaculated the old colored man.

"Am dat so Massa Tom?"

"It sure is. Then there's another kind of bug

that burrows under your fingernails, and if you

don't get 'em out, your fingers drop off."

"Oh, good land, Massa Tom! Am dat a fact?"

"It sure is. I don't want to see those things

happen to you, Rad."

Slowly the old colored man shook his head.

"I don't mahse'f," he said. "I---- I guess I

won't go."

Eradicate did not stop to ask how Tom and

Ned proposed to combat these two species of

insects.

But there remained Koku to dispose of, and he

stood smiling broadly as Eradicate shuffled of.

"Me no 'fraid bugs," said the giant.

"No," said Tom, with a look at Ned, for he did

not want to take the big man on the trip for

various reasons. "No, maybe not, Koku. Your

skin is pretty tough. But I understand there are

deep pools of water in the land where we are

going, and in them lives a fish that has a hide

like an alligator and a jaw like a shark. If you

fall in it's all up with you."

"Dat true, Master Tom?" and Koku's voice

trembled.

"Well, I've never seen such a fish, I'm sure,

but the natives tell about it."

Koku seemed to be considering the matter.

Strange as it may seem, the giant, though afraid

of nothing human and brave when it came to a

hand-to-claw argument with a wild animal, had

a very great fear of the water and the unseen

life within it. Even a little fresh-water crab in

a brook was enough to send him shrieking to

shore. So when Tom told of this curious fish,

which many natives of Central America firmly

believe in, the giant took thought with himself.

Finally, he gave a sigh and said:

"Me stay home and keep bad mans out of

master's shop."

"Yes, I guess that's the best thing for you,"

assented Tom with an air of relief. He and Ned

had talked the matter over, and they had agreed

that the presence of such a big man as Koku, in

an expedition going on a more or less secret mission,

would attract too much attention.

"Well, I guess that clears matters up," said

Tom, as he looked over a collection of rifles and

small arms, to decide which to take. "We won't

have them to worry about."

"No, only Professor Beecher," remarked Ned,

with a sharp look at his chum.

"Oh, we'll dispose of him all right!" asserted

Tom boldly. "He hasn't had any experience in

business of this sort, and with that you and

Professor Bumper and Mr. Damon know we

ought to have little trouble in getting ahead of

the young man."

"Not to speak of your own aid," added Ned.

"Oh, I'll do what I can, of course," said Tom,

with an air of indifference. But Ned knew his

chum would work ceaselessly to help get the idol

of gold.

Tom gave no sign that there was any complication

in his affair with Mary Nestor, and of

course Ned did not tell anything of what he knew

about it.

That night saw the preparations of Ned and

Tom about completed. There were one or two

matters yet to finish on Tom's part in relation

to his business, but these offered no difficulties.

The two chums were in the Swift home, talking

over the prospective trip, when Mrs. Baggert,

answering a ring at the front door, announced

that Mr. Damon was outside.

"Tell him to come in," ordered Tom.

"Bless my baggage check!" exclaimed the

excitable man, as he shook hands with Tom and

Ned and noted the packing evidences all about.

"You're ready to go to the land of wonders."

"The land of wonders?" repeated Ned.

"Yes, that's what Professor Bumper calls the

part of Honduras we're going to. And it must

be wonderful, Tom. Think of whole cities,

some of them containing idols and temples of

gold, buried thirty and forty feet under the

surface! Wonderful is hardly the name for it!"

"It'll be great!" cried Ned. "I suppose you're

ready, Mr. Damon--you and the professor?"

"Yes. But, Tom, I have a bit of unpleasant

news for you."

"Unpleasant news?"

"Yes. You know Professor Bumper spoke of

a rival--a man named Beecher who is a member

of the faculty of a new and wealthy college."

"I heard him speak of him--yes," and the way

Tom said it no one would have suspected that

he had any personal interest in the matter.

"He isn't going to give his secret away,"

thought Ned.

"Well, this Professor Beecher, you know,"

went on Mr. Damon, "also knows about the idol

of gold, and is trying to get ahead of Professor

Bumper in the search."

"He did say something of it, but nothing was

certain," remarked Tom.

"But it is certain!" exclaimed Mr. Damon.

"Bless my toothpick, it's altogether too certain!"

"How is that?" asked Tom. "Is Beecher

certainly going to Honduras?"

"Yes, of course. But what is worse, he and

his party will leave New York on the same

steamer with us!"

CHAPTER VII

TOM HEARS SOMETHING

On hearing Mr. Damon's rather startling

announcement, Tom and Ned looked at one another.

There seemed to be something back of

the simple statement--an ominous and portending

"something."

"On the same steamer with us, is he?" mused Tom.

"How did you learn this?" asked Ned.

"Just got a wire from Professor Bumper

telling me. He asked me to telephone to you about

it, as he was too busy to call up on the long

distance from New York. But instead of 'phoning

I decided to come over myself."

"Glad you did," said Tom, heartily. "Did

Professor Bumper want us to do anything

special, now that it is certain his rival will be

so close on his trail?"

"Yes, he asked me to warn you to be careful

what you did and said in reference to the expedition."

"Then does he fear something?" asked Ned.

"Yes, in a way. I think he is very much afraid

this young Beecher will not only be first on the

site of the underground city, but that he may

be the first to discover the idol of gold. It would

be a great thing for a young archaeologist like

Beecher to accomplish a mission of this sort,

and beat Professor Bumper in the race."

"Do you think that's why Beecher decided to

go on the same steamer we are to take?" asked Ned.

"Yes, I do," said Mr. Damon. "Though from

what Professor Bumper said I know he regards

Professor Beecher as a perfectly honorable man,

as well as a brilliant student. I do not believe

Beecher or his party would stoop to anything

dishonorable or underhand, though they would

not hesitate, nor would we, to take advantage of

every fair chance to win in the race."

"No, I suppose that's right," observed Tom;

but there was a queer gleam in his eye, and his

chum wondered if Tom did not have in mind the

prospective race between himself and Fenimore

Beecher for the regard of Mary Nestor. "We'll

do our best to win, and any one is at liberty to

travel on the same steamer we are to take," added

the young inventor, and his tone became more

incisive.

"It will be all the livelier with two expeditions

after the same golden idol," remarked Ned.

"Yes, I think we're in for some excitement,"

observed Tom grimly. But even he did not

realize all that lay before them ere they would

reach Kurzon.

Mr. Damon, having delivered his message, and

remarking that his preparations for leaving were

nearly completed, went back to Waterfield, from

there to proceed to New York in a few days

with Tom and Ned, to meet Professor Bumper.

"Well, I guess we have everything in pretty

good shape," remarked Tom to his chum a day

or so after the visit of Mr. Damon. "Everything

is packed, and as I have a few personal matters

to attend to I think I'll take the afternoon off."

"Go to it!" laughed Ned, guessing a thing of two.

"I've got a raft of stuff myself to look after,

but don't let that keep you."

"If there is anything I can do," began Tom,

"don't hesitate to----"

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Ned. "I can do it all alone.

It's some of the company's business, anyhow,

and I'm paid for looking after that."

"All right, then I'll cut along," Tom said, and

he wore a relieved air.

"He's going to see Mary," observed Ned with

a grin, as he observed Tom hop into his trim

little roadster, which under his orders, Koku had

polished and cleaned until it looked as though

it had just come from the factory.

A little later the trim and speedy car drew up

in front of the Nestor home, and Tom bounded

up on the front porch, his heart not altogether

as light as his feet.

"No, I'm sorry, but Mary isn't in," said Mrs.

Nestor, answering his inquiry after greeting him.

"Not at home?"

"No, she went on a little visit to her cousin's at

Fayetteville. She said something about letting

you know she was going."

"She did drop me a card," answered Tom, and,

somehow he did not feel at all cheerful. "But

I thought it wasn't until next week she was

going."

"That was her plan, Tom. But she changed

it. Her cousin wired, asking her to advance

the date, and this Mary did. There was something

about a former school chum who was also

to be at Myra's house--Myra is Mary's cousin

you know."

"Yes, I know," assented the young inventor.

"And so Mary is gone. How long is she going

to stay?"

"Oh, about two weeks. She wasn't quite

certain. It depends on the kind of a time she has,

I suppose."

"Yes, I suppose so," agreed Tom. "Well, if

you write before I do you might say I called,

Mrs. Nestor."

"I will, Tom. And I know Mary will be sorry

she wasn't here to take a ride with you; it's

such a nice day," and the lady smiled as she

looked at the speedy roadster.

"Maybe--maybe you'd like to come for a spin?"

asked Tom, half desperately.

"No, thank you. I'm too old to be jounced

around in one of those small cars."

"Nonsense! She rides as easily as a Pullman

sleeper."

"Well, I have to go to a Red Cross meeting,

anyhow, so I can't come, Tom. Thank you,

just the same."

Tom did not drive back immediately to his

home. He wanted to do a bit of thinking, and

he believed he could do it best by himself. So

it was late afternoon when he again greeted Ned,

who, meanwhile, had been kept very busy.

"Well?" called Tom's chum.

"Um!" was the only answer, and Tom called

Koku to put the car away in the garage.

"Something wrong," mused Ned.

The next three days were crowded with events

and with work. Mr. Damon came over

frequently to consult with Tom and Ned, and

finally the last of their baggage had been packed,

certain of Tom's inventions and implements sent

on by express to New York to be taken to Honduras,

and then our friends themselves followed

to the metropolis.

"Good-bye, Tom," said his father. "Good-

bye, and good luck! If you don't get the idol

of gold I'm sure you'll have experiences that

will be valuable to you."

"We're going to get the idol of gold!" said

Tom determinedly.

"Look out for the bad bugs," suggested Eradicate.

"We will," promised Ned.

Tom's last act was to send a message to Mary

Nestor, and then he, with Ned and Mr. Damon,

who blessed everything in sight from the gasoline

in the automobile to the blue sky overhead,

started for the station.

New York was reached without incident. The

trio put up at the hotel where Professor Bumper

was to meet them.

"He hasn't arrived yet," said Tom, after

glancing over the names on the hotel register and

not seeing Professor Bumper's among them.

"Oh, he'll be here all right," asserted Mr.

Damon. "Bless my galvanic battery! he sent me

a telegram at one o'clock this morning saying

he'd be sure to meet us in New York. No fear

of him not starting for the land of wonders."

"There are some other professors registered,

though," observed Ned, as he glanced at the

book, noting the names of several scientists of

whom he and Tom had read.

"Yes. I wonder what they're doing in New

York," replied Tom. "They are from New

England. Maybe there's a convention going on.

Well, we'll have to wait, that's all, until

Professor Bumper comes."

And during that wait Tom heard something

that surprised him and caused him no little

worry. It was when Ned came back to his

room, which adjoined Tom's, that the young

treasurer gave his chum the news.

"I say, Tom!" Ned exclaimed. "Who do you

think those professors are, whose names we saw

on the register?"

"I haven't the least idea."

"Why, they're of Beecher's party!"

"You don't mean it!"

"I surely do."

"How do you know?"

"I happened to overhear two of them talking

down in the lobby a while ago. They didn't

make any secret of it. They spoke freely of going

with Beecher to some ancient city in Honduras,

to look for an idol of gold."

"They did? But where is Beecher?"

"He hasn't joined them yet. Their plans

have been changed. Instead of leaving on the

same steamer we are to take in the morning

they are to come on a later one. The professors

here are waiting for Beecher to come."

"Why isn't he here now?"

"Well, I heard one of the other scientists say

that he had gone to a place called Fayetteville,

and will come on from there."

"Fayetteville!" ejaculated Tom.

"Yes. That isn't far from Shopton."

"I know," assented Tom. "I wonder--I wonder

why he is going there?"

"I can tell you that, too."

"You can? You're a regular detective."

"No, I just happened to overhear it. Beecher

is going to call on Mary Nestor in Fayetteville,

so his friends here said he told them, and his call

has to do with an important matter--to him!"

and Ned gazed curiously at his chum.

CHAPTER VIII

OFF FOR HONDURAS

Just what Tom's thoughts were, Ned, of

course, could not guess. But by the flush that

showed under the tan of his chum's cheeks the

young financial secretary felt pretty certain that

Tom was a bit apprehensive of the outcome of

Professor Beecher's call on Mary Nestor.

"So he is going to see her about `something

important,' Ned?"

"That's what some members of his party called

it."

"And they're waiting here for him to join

them?"

"Yes. And it means waiting a week for

another steamer. It must be something pretty

important, don't you think, to cause Beecher to

risk that delay in starting after the idol of gold?"

"Important? Yes, I suppose so," assented

Tom. "And yet even if he waits for the next

steamer he will get to Honduras nearly as soon

as we do."

"How is that?"

"The next boat is a faster one."

"Then why don't we take that? I hate dawdling

along on a slow freighter."

"Well, for one thing it would hardly do to

change now, when all our goods are on board.

And besides, the captain of the _Relstab_, on which

we are going to sail, is a friend of Professor

Bumper's."

"Well, I'm just as glad Beecher and his party

aren't going with us," resumed Ned, after a

pause. "It might make trouble."

"Oh, I'm ready for any trouble HE might make!"

quickly exclaimed Tom.

He meant trouble that might be developed in

going to Honduras, and starting the search

for the lost city and the idol of gold. This kind

of trouble Tom and his friends had experienced

before, on other trips where rivals had sought

to frustrate their ends.

But, in his heart, though he said nothing to

Ned about it, Tom was worried. Much as he

disliked to admit it to himself, he feared the visit

of Professor Beecher to Mary Nestor in Fayetteville

had but one meaning.

"I wonder if he's going to propose to her,"

thought Tom. "He has the field all to himself

now, and her father likes him. That's in his favor.

I guess Mr. Nestor has never quite forgiven me

for that mistake about the dynamite box, and

that wasn't my fault. Then, too, the Beecher

and Nestor families have been friends for years.

Yes, he surely has the inside edge on me, and

if he gets her to throw me over---- Well, I

won't give up without a fight!" and Tom mentally

girded himself for a battle of wits.

"He's relying on the prestige he'll get out of

this idol of gold if his party finds it," thought

on the young inventor. "But I'll help find it

first. I'm glad to have a little start of him, anyhow,

even if it isn't more than two days. Though

if our vessel is held back much by storms he may

get on the ground first. However, that can't

be helped. I'll do the best I can."

These thoughts shot through Tom's mind

even as Ned was asking his questions and making

comments. Then the young inventor, shaking

his shoulders as though to rid them of some

weight, remarked:

"Well, come on out and see the sights. It will

be long before we look on Broadway again."

When the chums returned from their sightseeing

excursion, they found that Professor Bumper

had arrived.

"Where's Professor Bumper?" asked Ned, the next day.

"In his room, going over books, papers and

maps to make sure he has everything."

"And Mr. Damon?"

Tom did not have to answer that last question.

Into the apartment came bursting the excited

individual himself.

"Bless my overshoes!" he cried, "I've been

looking everywhere for you! Come on, there's

no time to lose!"

"What's the matter now?" asked Ned. "Is the

hotel on fire?"

"Has anything happened to Professor Bumper?"

Tom demanded, a wild idea forming in his

head that perhaps some one of the Beecher party

had tried to kidnap the discoverer of the lost

city of Pelone.

"Oh, everything is all right," answered Mr.

Damon. "But it's nearly time for the show to

start, and we don't want to be late. I have

tickets."

"For what?" asked Tom and Ned together.

"The movies," was the laughing reply. "Bless

my loose ribs! but I wouldn't miss him for anything.

He's in a new play called `Up in a Balloon

Boys.' It's great!" and Mr. Damon named

a certain comic moving picture star in whose

horse-play Mr. Damon took a curious interest.

Tom and Ned were glad enough to go, Tom

that he might have a chance to do a certain

amount of thinking, and Ned because he was

still boy enough to like moving pictures.

"I wonder, Tom," said Mr. Damon, as they

came out of the theater two hours later, all three

chuckling at the remembrance of what they had

seen, "I wonder you never turned your inventive

mind to the movies."

"Maybe I will, some day," said Tom.

He spoke rather uncertainly. The truth of

the matter was that he was still thinking deeply

of the visit of Professor Beecher to Mary Nestor,

and wondering what it portended.

But if Tom's sleep was troubled that night he

said nothing of it to his friends. He was up

early the next morning, for they were to leave

that day, and there was still considerable to be

done in seeing that their baggage and supplies

were safely loaded, and in attending to the last

details of some business matters.

While at the hotel they had several glimpses

of the members of the Beecher party who were

awaiting the arrival of the young professor who

was to lead them into the wilds of Honduras.

But our friends did not seek the acquaintance

of their rivals. The latter, likewise, remained

by themselves, though they knew doubtless

that there was likely to be a strenuous race for

the possession of the idol of gold, then, it was

presumed, buried deep in some forest-covered

city.

Professor Bumper had made his arrangements

carefully. As he explained to his friends, they

would take the steamer from New York to Puerto

Cortes, one of the principal seaports of

Honduras. This is a town of about three thousand

inhabitants, with an excellent harbor and a

big pier along which vessels can tie up and

discharge their cargoes directly into waiting cars.

The preparations were finally completed.

The party went aboard the steamer, which was

a large freight vessel, carrying a limited number

of passengers, and late one afternoon swung

down New York Bay.

"Off for Honduras!" cried Ned gaily, as they

passed the Statue of Liberty. "I wonder what

will happen before we see that little lady again."

"Who knows?" asked Tom, shrugging his

shoulders, Spanish fashion. And there came before

him the vision of a certain "little lady," about

whom he had been thinking deeply of late.

CHAPTER IX

VAL JACINTO

"Rather tame, isn't it, Tom?"

"Well, Ned, it isn't exactly like going up in

an airship," and Tom Swift who was gazing

over the rail down into the deep blue water of

the Caribbean Sea, over which their vessel was

then steaming, looked at his chum beside him.

"No, and your submarine voyage had it all over

this one for excitement," went on Ned. "When

I think of that----"

"Bless my sea legs!" interrupted Mr. Damon,

overhearing the conversation. "Don't speak of

THAT trip. My wife never forgave me for going

on it. But I had a fine time," he added with a

twinkle of his eyes.

"Yes, that was quite a trip," observed Tom,

as his mind went back to it. "But this one isn't

over yet remember. And I shouldn't be surprised

if we had a little excitement very soon."

"What do you mean?" asked Ned.

Up to this time the voyage from New York

down into the tropical seas had been anything

but exciting. There were not many passengers

besides themselves, and the weather had been

fine.

At first, used as they were to the actions of

unscrupulous rivals in trying to thwart their

efforts, Tom and Ned had been on the alert for

any signs of hidden enemies on board the steamer.

But aside from a little curiosity when it became

known that they were going to explore

little-known portions of Honduras, the other

passengers took hardly any interest in our travelers.

It was thought best to keep secret the fact

that they were going to search for a wonderful

idol of gold. Not even the mule and ox-cart

drivers, whom they would hire to take them into

the wilds of the interior would be told of the real

object of the search. It would be given out that

they were looking for interesting ruins of ancient

cities, with a view to getting such antiquities

as might be there.

"What do you mean?" asked Ned again, when

Tom did not answer him immediately. "What's

the excitement?"

"I think we're in for a storm," was the reply.

"The barometer is falling and I see the crew

going about making everything snug. So we

may have a little trouble toward this end of our

trip."

"Let it come!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "We're

not afraid of trouble, Tom. Swift, are we?"

"No, to be sure we're not. And yet it looks

as though the storm would be a bad one."

"Then I am going to see if my books and

papers are ready, so I can get them together in a

hurry in case we have to take to the life-boats,"

said Professor Bumper, coming on deck at that

moment. "It won't do to lose them. If we

didn't have the map we might not be able to find----"

"Ahem!" exclaimed Tom, with unnecessary

emphasis it seemed. "I'll help you go over your

papers, Professor," he added, and with a wink

and a motion of his hand, he enjoined silence on

his friend. Ned looked around for a reason for

this, and observed a man, evidently of Spanish

extraction, passing them as he paced up and

down the deck.

"What's the matter?" asked the scientist in

a whisper, as the man went on. "Do you know

him? Is he a----?"

"I don't know anything about him," said Tom;

"but it is best not to speak of our trip before

strangers."

"You are right, Tom," said Professor Bumper.

"I'll be more careful."

A storm was brewing, that was certain. A

dull, sickly yellow began to obscure the sky, and

the water, from a beautiful blue, turned a slate

color and ran along the sides of the vessel with a

hissing sound as though the sullen waves would

ask nothing better than to suck the craft down

into their depths. The wind, which had been

freshening, now sang in louder tones as it

hummed through the rigging and the funnel stays

and bowled over the receiving conductors of the

wireless.

Sharp commands from the ship's officers

hastened the work of the crew in making things

snug, and life lines were strung along deck for

the safety of such of the passengers as might

venture up when the blow began.

The storm was not long in coming. The

howling of the wind grew louder, flecks of foam

began to separate themselves from the crests of

the waves, and the vessel pitched, rolled and

tossed more violently. At first Tom and his

friends thought they were in for no more than

an ordinary blow, but as the storm progressed,

and the passengers became aware of the anxiety

on the part of the officers and crew, the alarm

spread among them.

It really was a violent storm, approaching a

hurricane in force, and at one time it seemed as

though the craft, having been heeled far over

under a staggering wave that swept her decks,

would not come back to an even keel.

There was a panic among some of the

passengers, and a few excited men behaved in a

way that caused prompt action on the part of

the first officer, who drove them back to the

main cabin under threat of a revolver. For the

men were determined to get to the lifeboats, and

a small craft would not have had a minute to live

in such seas as were running.

But the vessel proved herself sturdier than the

timid ones had dared to hope, and she was soon

running before the blast, going out of her course,

it is true, but avoiding the danger among the

many cays, or small islands, that dot the Caribbean

Sea.

There was nothing to do but to let the storm

blow itself out, which it did in two days. Then

came a period of delightful weather. The cargo

had shifted somewhat, which gave the steamer

a rather undignified list.

This, as well as the loss of a deckhand

overboard, was the effect of the hurricane, and

though the end of the trip came amid sunshine

and sweet-scented tropical breezes, many could

not forget the dangers through which they had

passed.

In due time Tom and his party found

themselves safely housed in the small hotel at Puerto

Cortes, their belongings stored in a convenient

warehouse and themselves, rather weary by reason

of the stress of weather, ready for the start

into the interior wilds of Honduras.

"How are we going to make the trip?" asked

Ned, as they sat at supper, the first night after

their arrival, eating of several dishes, the red-

pepper condiments of which caused frequent trips

to the water pitcher.

"We can go in two ways, and perhaps we shall

find it to our advantage to use both means," said

Professor Bumper. "To get to this city of Kurzon,"

he proceeded in a low voice, so that none

of the others in the dining-room would hear

them, "we will have to go either by mule back

or boat to a point near Copan. As near as I

can tell by the ancient maps, Kurzon is in the

Copan valley.

"Now the Chamelecon river seems to run to

within a short distance of there, but there is

no telling how far up it may be navigable. If

we can go by boat it will be much more comfortable.

Travel by mules and ox-carts is slow and

sure, but the roads are very bad, as I have heard

from friends who have made explorations in

Honduras.

"And, as I said, we may have to use both land

and water travel to get us where we want to go.

We can proceed as far as possible up the river,

and then take to the mules."

"What about arranging for boats and animals?"

asked Tom. "I should think----"

He suddenly ceased talking and reached for

the water, taking several large swallows.

"Whew!" he exclaimed, when he could catch his breath.

"That was a hot one."

"What did you do?" asked Ned.

"Bit into a nest of red pepper. Guess I'll have

to tell that cook to scatter his hits. He's bunching

'em too much in my direction," and Tom

wiped the tears from his eyes.

"To answer your question," said Professor

Bumper, "I will say that I have made partial

arrangements for men and animals, and boats

if it is found feasible to use them. I've been in

correspondence with one of the merchants here,

and he promised to make arrangements for us."

"When do we leave?" asked Mr. Damon.

"As soon as possible. I am not going to risk

anything by delay," and it was evident the professor

referred to his young rival whose arrival

might be expected almost any time.

As the party was about to leave the table,

they were approached by a tall, dignified Spaniard

who bowed low, rather exaggeratedly low,

Ned thought, and addressed them in fairly good

English.

"Your pardons, Senors," he began, "but if it

will please you to avail yourself of the humble

services of myself, I shall have great pleasure

in guiding you into the interior. I have at my

command both mules and boats."

"How do you know we are going into the

interior?" asked Tom, a bit sharply, for he did

not like the assurance of the man.

"Pardon, Senor. I saw that you are from the

States. And those from the States do not come

to Honduras except for two reasons. To travel

and make explorations or to start trade, and

professors do not usually engage in trade," and

he bowed to Professor Bumper.

"I saw your name on the register," he proceeded,

"and it was not difficult to guess your mission,"

and he flashed a smile on the party, his

white teeth showing brilliantly beneath his

small, black moustache.

"I make it my business to outfit traveling

parties, either for business, pleasure or scientific

matters. I am, at your service, Val Jacinto,"

and he introduced himself with another low bow.

For a moment Tom and his friends hardly

knew how to accept this offer. It might be,

as the man had said, that he was a professional

tour conductor, like those who have charge of

Egyptian donkey-boys and guides. Or might he

not be a spy?

This occurred to Tom no less than to Professor

Bumper. They looked at one another while

Val Jacinto bowed again and murmured:

"At your service!"

"Can you provide means for taking us to the

Copan valley?" asked the professor. "You are

right in one respect. I am a scientist and I purpose

doing some exploring near Copan. Can

you get us there?"

"Most expensively--I mean, most expeditionlessly,"

said Val Jacinto eagerly. "Pardon my

unhappy English. I forget at times. The

charges will be most moderate. I can send you

by boat as far as the river travel is good, and

then have mules and ox-carts in waiting."

"How far is it?" asked Tom.

"A hundred miles as the vulture flies, Senor,

but much farther by river and road. We shall

be a week going."

"A hundred miles in a week!" groaned Ned.

"Say, Tom, if you had your aeroplane we'd be

there in an hour."

"Yes, but we haven't it. However, we're in

no great rush."

"But we must not lose time," said Professor

Bumper. "I shall consider your offer," he added

to Val Jacinto.

"Very good, Senor. I am sure you will be

pleased with the humble service I may offer you,

and my charges will be small. Adios," and he

bowed himself away.

"What do you think of him?" asked Ned, as

they went up to their rooms in the hotel, or

rather one large room, containing several beds.

"He's a pretty slick article," said Mr. Damon.

"Bless my check-book! but he spotted us at

once, in spite of our secrecy."

"I guess these guide purveyors are trained

for that sort of thing," observed the scientist.

"I know my friends have often spoken of having

had the same experience. However, I shall

ask my friend, who is in business here, about

this Val Jacinto, and if I find him all right we

may engage him "

Inquiries next morning brought the information,

from the head of a rubber exporting firm

with whom the professor was acquainted, that

the Spaniard was regularly engaged in transporting

parties into the interior, and was considered

efficient, careful and as honest as pos-

sible, considering the men he engaged as workers.

"So we have decided to engage you," Professor

Bumper informed Val Jacinto the afternoon

following the meeting.

"I am more than pleased, Senor. I shall take

you into the wilds of Honduras. At your

service!" and he bowed low.

"Humph! I don't just like the way our friend

Val says that," observed Tom to Ned a little

later. "I'd have been better pleased if he had

said he'd guide us into the wilds and out again."

If Tom could have seen the crafty smile on

the face of the Spaniard as the man left the

hotel, the young inventor might have felt even

less confidence in the guide.

CHAPTER X

IN THE WILDS

"All aboard! Step lively now! This boat

makes no stops this side of Boston!" cried Ned

Newton gaily, as he got into one of the several

tree canoes provided for the transportation of

the party up the Chamelecon river, for the first

stage of their journey into the wilds of

Honduras. "All aboard! This reminds me of my

old camping days, Tom."

It brought those days back, in a measure, to

Tom also. For there were a number of canoes

filled with the goods of the party, while the

members themselves occupied a larger one with their

personal baggage. Strong, half-naked Indian

paddlers were in charge of the canoes which

were of sturdy construction and light draft, since

the river, like most tropical streams, was of

uncertain depths, choked here and there with sand

bars or tropical growths.

Finding that Val Jacinto was regularly engaged

in the business of taking explorers and

mine prospectors into the interior, Professor

Bumper had engaged the man. He seemed to be

efficient. At the promised time he had the

canoes and paddlers on hand and the goods safely

stowed away while one big craft was fitted up

as comfortably as possible for the men of the

party.

As Ned remarked, it did look like a camping

party, for in the canoes were tents, cooking

utensils and, most important, mosquito canopies

of heavy netting.

The insect pests of Honduras, as in all tropical

countries, are annoying and dangerous. Therefore

it was imperative to sleep under mosquito

netting.

On the advice of Val Jacinto, who was to

accompany them, the travelers were to go up the

river about fifty miles. This was as far as it

would be convenient to use the canoes, the guide

told Tom and his friends, and from there on

the trip to the Copan valley would be made on

the backs of mules, which would carry most of

the baggage and equipment. The heavier portions

would be transported in ox-carts.

As Professor Bumper expected to do considerable

excavating in order to locate the buried

city, or cities, as the case might be, he had to

contract for a number of Indian diggers and

laborers. These could be hired in Copan, it was

said.

The plan, therefore, was to travel by canoes

during the less heated parts of the day, and tie

up at night, making camp on shore in the net-

protected tents. As for the Indians, they did

not seem to mind the bites of the insects. They

sometimes made a smudge fire, Val Jacinto had

said, but that was all.

"Well, we haven't seen anything of Beecher

and his friends," remarked the young inventor

as they were about to start.

"No, he doesn't seem to have arrived," agreed

Professor Bumper. "We'll get ahead of him,

and so much the better.

"Well, are we all ready to start?" he continued,

as he looked over the little flotilla which carried

his party and his goods.

"The sooner the better!" cried Tom, and Ned

fancied his chum was unusually eager.

"I guess he wants to make good before Beecher

gets the chance to show Mary Nestor what

he can do," thought Ned. "Tom sure is after

that idol of gold."

"You may start, Senor Jacinto," said the

professor, and the guide called something in Indian

dialect to the rowers. Lines were cast off and

the boats moved out into the stream under the

influence of the sturdy paddlers.

"Well, this isn't so bad," observed Ned, as he

made himself comfortable in his canoe. "How

about it, Tom?"

"Oh, no. But this is only the beginning."

A canopy had been arranged over their boat

to keep off the scorching rays of the sun. The

boat containing the exploring party and Val

Jacinto took the lead, the baggage craft following.

At the place where it flowed into the bay

on which Puerto Cortes was built, the stream

was wide and deep.

The guide called something to the Indians,

who increased their stroke.

"I tell them to pull hard and that at the end

of the day's journey they will have much rest

and refreshment," he translated to Professor

Bumper and the others.

"Bless my ham sandwich, but they'll need

plenty of some sort of refreshment," said Mr.

Damon, with a sigh. "I never knew it to be

so hot."

"Don't complain yet," advised Tom, with a

laugh. "The worst is yet to come."

It really was not unpleasant traveling, aside

from the heat. And they had expected that,

coming as they had to a tropical land. But, as

Tom said, what lay before them might be worse.

In a little while they had left behind them all

signs of civilization. The river narrowed and

flowed sluggishly between the banks which were

luxuriant with tropical growth. Now and then

some lonely Indian hut could be seen, and

occasionally a craft propelled by a man who was

trying to gain a meager living from the rubber

forest which hemmed in the stream on either

side.

As the canoe containing the men was paddled

along, there floated down beside it what seemed

to be a big, rough log.

"I wonder if that is mahogany," remarked Mr.

Damon, reaching over to touch it. "Mahogany

is one of the most valuable woods of Honduras,

and if this is a log of that nature----

"Bless my watch chain!" he suddenly cried. It's alive!"

And the "log" was indeed so, for there was a

sudden flash of white teeth, a long red opening

showed, and then came a click as an immense

alligator, having opened and closed his mouth,

sank out of sight in a swirl of water.

Mr. Damon drew back so suddenly that he

tilted the canoe, and the black paddlers looked

around wonderingly.

"Alligator," explained Jacinto succinctly, in

their tongue.

"Ugh!" they grunted.

"Bless my--bless my----" hesitated Mr.

Damon, and for one of the very few times in

his life his language failed him.

"Are there many of them hereabouts?" asked

Ned, looking back at the swirl left by the saurian.

"Plenty," said the guide, with a shrug of his

shoulders. He seemed to do as much talking that

way, and with his hands, as he did in speech.

"The river is full of them."

"Dangerous?" queried Tom.

"Don't go in swimming," was the significant

advice. "Wait, I'll show you," and he called

up the canoe just behind.

In this canoe was a quantity of provisions.

There was a chunk of meat among other things,

a gristly piece, seeing which Mr. Damon had

objected to its being brought along, but the guide

had said it would do for fish bait. With a quick

motion of his hand, as he sat in the awning-

covered stern with Tom, Ned and the others,

Jacinto sent the chunk of meat out into the muddy

stream.

Hardly a second later there was a rushing in

the water as though a submarine were about

to come up. An ugly snout was raised, two

rows of keen teeth snapped shut as a scissors-

like jaw opened, and the meat was gone.

"See!" was the guide's remark, and something

like a cold shiver of fear passed over the white

members of the party. "This water is not made

in which to swim. Be careful!"

"We certainly shall," agreed Tom. "They're fierce."

"And always hungry," observed Jacinto grimly.

"And to think that I--that I nearly had my

hand on it," murmured Mr. Damon. "Ugh!

Bless my eyeglasses!"

"The alligator nearly had your hand," said the

guide. "They can turn in the water like a flash,

wherefore it is not wise to pat one on the tail

lest it present its mouth instead."

They paddled on up the river, the dusky Indians

now and then breaking out into a chant

that seemed to give their muscles new energy.

The song, if song it was, passed from one boat

to the other, and as the chant boomed forth

the craft shot ahead more swiftly.

They made a landing about noon, and lunch

was served. Tom and his friends were hungry

in spite of the heat. Moreover, they were

experienced travelers and had learned not to fret

over inconveniences and discomforts. the Ind-

ians ate by themselves, two acting as servants

to Jacinto and the professor's party.

As is usual in traveling in the tropics, a halt

was made during the heated middle of the day.

Then, as the afternoon shadows were waning,

the party again took to the canoes and paddled

on up the river.

"Do you know of a good place to stop during

the night?" asked Professor Bumper of Jacinto.

"Oh, yes; a most excellent place. It is where

I always bring scientific parties I am guiding.

You may rely on me."

It was within an hour of dusk--none too much

time to allow in which to pitch camp in the

tropics, where night follows day suddenly--when

a halt was called, as a turn of the river showed a

little clearing on the edge of the forest-bound

river.

"We stay here for the night," said Jacinto.

"It is a good place."

"It looks picturesque enough," observed Mr.

Damon. "But it is rather wild."

"We are a good distance from a settlement,"

agreed the guide. "But one can not explore--

and find treasure in cities," and he shrugged

his shoulders again.

"Find treasure? What do you mean?" asked Tom quickly.

"Do you think that we----?"

"Pardon, Senor," replied Jacinto softly. "I meant

no offense. I think that all you scientific

parties will take treasure if you can find it."

"We are looking for traces of the old Honduras

civilization," put in Professor Bumper.

"And doubtless you will find it," was the

somewhat too courteous answer of the guide.

"Make camp quickly!" he called to the Indians

in their tongue. "You must soon get under the

nets or you will be eaten alive!" he told Tom.

"There are many mosquitoes here."

The tents were set up, smudge fires built and

supper quickly prepared. Dusk fell rapidly, and

as Tom and Ned walked a little way down

toward the river before turning in under the

mosquito canopies, the young financial man said:

"Sort of lonesome and gloomy, isn't it, Tom?"

"Yes. But you didn't expect to find a moving

picture show in the wilds of Honduras, did you?"

"No, and yet-- Look out! What's that?"

suddenly cried Ned, as a great soft, black shadow

seemed to sweep out of a clump of trees toward

him. Involuntarily he clutched Tom's arm and

pointed, his face showing fear in the fast-gathering

darkness.

CHAPTER XI

THE VAMPIRES

Tom Swift looked deliberately around. It

was characteristic of him that, though by nature

he was prompt in action, he never acted so hurriedly

as to obscure his judgment. So, though

now Ned showed a trace of strange excitement,

Tom was cool.

"What is it?" asked the young inventor.

"What's the matter? What did you think you saw,

Ned; another alligator?"

"Alligator? Nonsense! Up on shore? I saw

a black shadow, and I didn't THINK I saw it,

either. I really did."

Tom laughed quietly.

"A shadow!" he exclaimed. "Since when

were you afraid of shadows, Ned?"

"I'm not afraid of ordinary shadows," answered

Ned, and in his voice there was an uncertain

tone. "I'm not afraid of my shadow or

yours, Tom, or anybody's that I can see. But

this wasn't any human shadow. It was as if a

great big blob of wet darkness had been waved

over your head."

"That's a queer explanation," Tom said in a

low voice. "A great big blob of wet darkness!"

"But that just describes it," went on Ned,

looking up and around. "It was just as if you were in

some dark room, and some one waved a wet

velvet cloak over your head--spooky like! It

didn't make a sound, but there was a smell as

if a den of some wild beast was near here. I

remember that odor from the time we went

hunting with your electric rifle in the jungle, and

got near the den in the rocks where the tigers

lived."

"Well, there is a wild beast smell all around

here," admitted Tom, sniffing the air. "It's the

alligators in the river I guess. You know they

have an odor of musk."

"Do you mean to say you didn't feel that

shadow flying over us just now?" asked Ned.

"Well, I felt something sail through the air,

but I took it to be a big bird. I didn't pay much

attention. To tell you the truth I was thinking

about Beecher--wondering when he would get

here," added Tom quickly as if to forestall any

question as to whether or not his thoughts had

to do with Beecher in connection with Tom's

affair of the heart.

"Well it wasn't a bird--at least not a regular

bird," said Ned in a low voice, as once more he

looked at the dark and gloomy jungle that

stretched back from the river and behind the

little clearing where the camp had been made.

"Come on!" cried Tom, in what he tried to

make a cheerful voice. "This is getting on your

nerves, Ned, and I didn't know you had any.

Let's go back and turn in. I'm dog-tired and

the mosquitoes are beginning to find that we're

here. Let's get under the nets. Then the black

shadows won't get you."

Not at all unwilling to leave so gloomy a scene,

Ned, after a brief glance up and down the dark

river, followed his chum. They found Professor

Bumper and Mr. Damon in their tent, a separate

one having been set up for the two men adjoining

that of the youths.

"Bless my fountain pen!" exclaimed Mr. Damon,

as he caught sight of Tom and Ned in the

flickering light of the smudge fire between the

two canvas shelters. "We were just wondering

what had become of you."

"We were chasing shadows!" laughed Tom.

"At least Ned was. But you look cozy enough in there."

It did, indeed, look cheerful in contrast to the

damp and dark jungle all about. Professor Bumper,

being an experienced traveler, knew how to

provide for such comforts as were possible. Folding

cots had been opened for himself, Mr. Damon

and the guide to sleep on, others, similar, being

set up in the tent where Tom and Ned were to

sleep. In the middle of the tent the professor

had made a table of his own and Mr.

Damon's suit cases, and on this placed a small

dry battery electric light. He was making some

notes, doubtless for a future book. Jacinto was

going about the camp, seeing that the Indians

were at their duties, though most of them had

gone directly to sleep after supper.

"Better get inside and under the nets," advised

Professor Bumper to Tom and Ned. "The mosquitoes

here are the worst I ever saw."

"We're beginning to believe that," returned

Ned, who was unusually quiet. "Come on,

Tom. I can't stand it any longer. I'm itching

in a dozen places now from their bites."

As Tom and Ned had no wish for a light,

which would be sure to attract insects, they

entered their tent in the dark, and were soon

stretched out in comparative comfort. Tom was

just on the edge of a deep sleep when he heard

Ned murmur:

"I can't understand it!"

"What's that?" asked the young inventor.

"I say I can't understand it."

"Understand what?"

"That shadow. It was real and yet----"

"Oh, go to sleep!" advised Tom, and, turning

over, he was soon breathing heavily and regularly,

indicating that he, at least, had taken his own advice.

Ned, too, finally succumbed to the overpowering

weariness of the first day of travel, and he,

too, slept, though it was an uneasy slumber,

disturbed by a feeling as though some one were

holding a heavy black quilt over his head,

preventing him from breathing.

The feeling, sensation or dream--whatever it

was--perhaps a nightmare--became at last so

real to Ned that he struggled himself into

wakefulness. With an effort he sat up, uttering an

inarticulate cry. To his surprise he was

answered. Some one asked:

"What is the matter?"

"Who--who are you?" asked Ned quickly,

trying to peer through the darkness.

"This is Jacinto--your guide," was the soft

answer. "I was walking about camp and, hearing

you murmuring, I came to your tent. Is

anything wrong?"

For a moment Ned did not answer. He

listened and could tell by the continued heavy

and regular breathing of his chum that Tom

was still asleep.

"Are you in our tent?" asked Ned, at length:

"Yes," answered Jacinto. "I came in to see

what was the matter with you. Are you ill?"

"No, of course not," said Ned, a bit shortly.

"I--I had a bad dream, that was all. All

right now."

"For that I am glad. Try to get all the sleep

you can, for we must start early to avoid the

heat of the day," and there was the sound of

the guide leaving and arranging the folds of the

mosquito net behind him to keep out the night-

flying insects.

Once more Ned composed himself to sleep, and

this time successfully, for he did not have any

more unpleasant dreams. The quiet of the

jungle settled down over the camp, at least the

comparative quiet of the jungle, for there were

always noises of some sort going on, from the

fall of some rotten tree limb to the scream or

growl of a wild beast, while, now and again, from

the river came the pig-like grunts of the alligators.

It was about two o'clock in the morning, as

they ascertained later, when the whole camp--

white travelers and all--was suddenly awakened

by a wild scream. It seemed to come from one

of the natives, who called out a certain word

ever and over again. To Tom and Ned it

sounded like:

"Oshtoo! Oshtoo! Oshtoo!"

"What's the matter?" cried Professor Bumper.

"The vampires!" came the answering voice of

Jacinto. "One of the Indians has been attacked

by a big vampire bat! Look out, every one!

It may be a raid by the dangerous creatures!

Be careful!"

Notwithstanding this warning Ned stuck his

head out of the tent. The same instant he was

aware of a dark enfolding shadow passing over

him, and, with a shudder of fear, he jumped back.

CHAPTER XII

A FALSE FRIEND

"What is it? What's the matter?" cried Tom

springing from his cot and hastening to the side

of his chum in the tent. "What has happened, Ned?"

"I don't know, but Jacinto is yelling

something about vampires!"

"Vampires?"

"Yes. Big bats. And he's warning us to be

careful. I stuck my head out just now and I

felt that same sort of shadow I felt this evening

when we were down near the river."

"Nonsense!"

"I tell you I did!"

At that instant Tom flashed a pocket electric

lamp he had taken from beneath his pillow and

in the gleam of it he and Ned saw fluttering

about the tent some dark, shadow-like form, at

the sight of which Tom's chum cried:

"There it is! That's the shadow! Look out!"

and he held up his hands instinctively to shield

his face.

"Shadow!" yelled Tom, unconsciously adding

to the din that seemed to pervade every part of

the camp. "That isn't a shadow. It's

substance. It's a monster bat, and here goes

for a strike at it!"

He caught up his camera tripod which was near

his cot, and made a swing with it at the creature

that had flown into the tent through an opening

it had made for itself.

"Look out!" yelled Ned. "If it's a vampire it'll----"

"It won't do anything to me!" shouted Tom,

as he struck the creature, knocking it into the

corner of the tent with a thud that told it must

be completely stunned, if not killed. "But

what's it all about, anyhow?" Tom asked.

"What's the row?"

From without the tent came the Indian cries of:

"Oshtoo! Oshtoo!"

Mingled with them were calls of Jacinto, partly

in Spanish, partly in the Indian tongue and

partly in English.

"It is a raid by vampire bats!" was all Tom

and Ned could distinguish. "We shall have

to light fires to keep them away, if we can suc-

ceed. Every one grab up a club and strike hard!"

"Come on!" cried Tom, getting on some clothes

by the light of his gleaming electric light

which he had set on his cot.

"You're not going out there, are you?" asked Ned.

"I certainly am! If there's a fight I want to

be in it, bats or anything else. Here, you have

a light like mine. Flash it on, and hang it

somewhere on yourself. Then get a club and

come on. The lights will blind the bats, and

we can see to hit 'em!"

Tom's plan seemed to be a good one. His

lamp and Ned's had small hooks on them, so

they could be carried in the upper coat pocket,

showing a gleam of light and leaving the hands

free for use.

Out of the tents rushed the young men to find

Professor Bumper and Mr. Damon before them.

The two men had clubs and were striking about

in the half darkness, for now the Indians had set

several fires aglow. And in the gleams,

constantly growing brighter as more fuel was piled

on, the young inventor and his chum saw a

weird sight.

Circling and wheeling about in the camp clearing

were many of the black shadowy forms that

had caused Ned such alarm. Great bats they

were, and a dangerous species, if Jacinto was

to be believed.

The uncanny creatures flew in and out among

the trees and tents, now swooping low near the

Indians or the travelers. At such times clubs

would be used, often with the effect of killing or

stunning the flying pests. For a time it seemed

as if the bats would fairly overwhelm the camp,

so many of them were there. But the increasing

lights, and the attacks made by the Indians and

the white travelers turned the tide of battle, and,

with silent flappings of their soft, velvety wings,

the bats flew back to the jungle whence they had emerged.

"We are safe--for the present!" exclaimed

Jacinto with a sigh of relief.

"Do you think they will come back?" asked Tom.

"They may--there is no telling."

"Bless my speedometer!" cried Mr. Damon,

"If those beasts or birds--whatever they are--

come back I'll go and hide in the river and take

my chances with the alligators!"

"The alligators aren't much worse," asserted

Jacinto with a visible shiver. "These vampire

bats sometimes depopulate a whole village."

"Bless my shoe laces!" cried Mr. Damon. "You

don't mean to say that the creatures can eat up a

whole village?"

"Not quite. Though they might if they got

the chance," was the answer of the Spanish

guide. "These vampire bats fly from place to

place in great swarms, and they are so large and

blood-thirsty that a few of them can kill a horse

or an ox in a short time by sucking its blood. So

when the villagers find they are visited by a

colony of these vampires they get out, taking

their live stock with them, and stay in caves or in

densely wooded places until the bats fly on.

Then the villagers come back.

"It was only a small colony that visited us to-

night or we would have had more trouble. I do

not think this lot will come back. We have

killed too many of them," and he looked about

on the ground where many of the uncanny creatures

were still twitching in the death struggle.

"Come back again!" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless

my skin! I hope not! I've had enough of bats--

and mosquitoes," he added, as he slapped at his

face and neck.

Indeed the party of whites were set upon by

the night insects to such an extent that it was

necessary to hurry back to the protection of the

nets.

Tom and Ned kicked outside the bat the former

had killed in their tent, and then both went back

to their cots. But it was some little time

before they fell asleep. And they did not have

much time to rest, for an early start must be

made to avoid the terrible heat of the middle of

the day.

"Whew!" whistled Ned, as he and Tom arose

in the gray dawn of the morning when Jacinto

announced the breakfast which the Indian cook

had prepared. "That was some night! If this

is a sample of the wilds of Honduras, give me

the tameness of Shopton."

"Oh, we've gone through with worse than

this," laughed Tom. "It's all in the day's work.

We've only got started. I guess we're a bit

soft, Ned, though we had hard enough work in

that tunnel-digging."

After breakfast, while the Indians were making

ready the canoes, Professor Bumper, who,

in a previous visit to Central America, had

become interested in the subject, made a brief

examination of some of the dead bats. They were

exceptionally large, some almost as big as hawks.

and were of the sub-family _Desmodidae_, the scientist

said.

"This is a true blood-sucking bat," went on

the professor. "This," and he pointed to the

nose-leaves, "is the sucking apparatus. The

bat makes an opening in the skin with its sharp

teeth and proceeds to extract the blood. I can

well believe two or three of them, attacking a

steer or mule at once, could soon weaken it so

the animal would die."

"And a man, too?" asked Ned.

"Well a man has hands with which to use

weapons, but a helpless quadruped has not.

Though if a sufficient number of these bats

attacked a man at the same time, he would have

small chance to escape alive. Their bites, too,

may be poisonous for all I know."

The Indians seemed glad to leave the "place

of the bats," as they called the camp site. Jacinto

explained that the Indians believed a vampire

could kill them while they slept, and they were

very much afraid of the blood-sucking bats.

There were many other species in the tropics,

Professor Bumper explained, most of which

lived on fruit or on insects they caught. The

blood-sucking bats were comparatively few, and

the migratory sort fewer still.

"Well, we're on our way once more,"

remarked Tom as again they were in the canoes

being paddled up the river. "How much

longer does your water trip take, Professor?"

"I hardly know," and Professor Bumper looked

to Jacinto to answer.

"We go two more days in the canoes," the

guide answered, "and then we shall find the

mules waiting for us at a place called Hidjio.

From then on we travel by land until--well until

you get to the place where you are going.

"I suppose you know where it is?" he added,

nodding toward the professor. "I am leaving

that part to you."

"Oh, I have a map, showing where I want to

begin some excavations," was the answer. "We

must first go to Copan and see what arrangements

we can make for laborers. After that--well, we

shall trust to luck for what we shall find."

"There are said to be many curious things,"

went on Jacinto, speaking as though he had no

interest. "You have mentioned buried cities.

Have you thought what may be in them--great

heathen temples, idols, perhaps?"

For a moment none of the professor's

companions spoke. It was as though Jacinto had

tried to get some information. Finally the

scientist said:

"Oh, yes, we may find an idol. I understand

the ancient people, who were here long before

the Spaniards came, worshiped idols. But we

shall take whatever antiquities we find."

"Huh!" grunted Jacinto, and then he called

to the paddlers to increase their strokes.

The journey up the river was not very

eventful. Many alligators were seen, and Tom and

Ned shot several with the electric rifle. Toward

the close of the third day's travel there was a

cry from one of the rear boats, and an alarm of

a man having fallen overboard was given.

Tom turned in time to see the poor fellow's

struggles, and at the same time there was a swirl

in the water and a black object shot forward.

"An alligator is after him!" yelled Ned.

"I see," observed Tom calmly. "Hand me the rifle, Ned."

Tom took quick aim and pulled the trigger.

The explosive electric bullet went true to its

mark, and the great animal turned over in a death

struggle. But the river was filled with them, and

no sooner had the one nearest the unfortunate

Indian been disposed of than another made a

dash for the man.

There was a wild scream of agony and then

a dark arm shot up above the red foam. The

waters seethed and bubbled as the alligators

fought under it for possession of the paddler.

Tom fired bullet after bullet from his wonderful

rifle into the spot, but though he killed some

of the alligators this did not save the man's life.

His body was not seen again, though search was

made for it.

The accident cast a little damper over the

party, and there was a feeling of gloom among

the Indians. Professor Bumper announced that

he would see to it that the man's family did not

want, and this seemed to give general satisfaction,

especially to a brother who was with the

party.

Aside from being caught in a drenching storm

and one or two minor accidents, nothing else

of moment marked the remainder of the river

journey, and at the end of the third day the

canoes pulled to shore and a night camp was

made.

"But where are the mules we are to use in

traveling to-morrow?" asked the professor of Jacinto.

"In the next village. We shall march there

in the morning. No use to go there at night

when all is dark."

"I suppose that is so."

The Indians made camp as usual, the goods being

brought from the canoes and piled up near

the tents. Then night settled down.

"Hello!" cried Tom, awakening the next morning

to find the sun streaming into his tent. "We

must have overslept, Ned. We were to start

before old Sol got in his heavy work, but we

haven't had breakfast yet."

"I didn't hear any one call us," remarked Ned.

"Nor I. Wonder if we're the only lazy birds."

He looked from the tent in time to see Mr.

Damon and the professor emerging. Then Tom

noticed something queer. The canoes were not

on the river bank. There was not an Indian

in sight, and no evidence of Jacinto.

"What's the matter?" asked the young

inventor. "Have the others gone on ahead?"

"I rather think they've gone back," was the

professor's dry comment.

"Gone back?"

"Yes. The Indians seem to have deserted us

at the ending of this stage of our journey."

"Bless my time-table!" cried Mr. Damon.

"You don't say so! What does it mean? What

has becomes of our friend Jacinto?"

"I'm afraid he was rather a false friend," was

the professor's answer. "This is the note he left.

He has gone and taken the canoes and all the

Indians with him," and he held out a paper on

which was some scribbled writing.

CHAPTER XIII

FORWARD AGAIN

"What does it all mean?" asked Tom, seeing

that the note was written in Spanish, a tongue

which he could speak slightly but read indifferently.

"This is some of Beecher's work," was

Professor Bumper's grim comment. "It seems that

Jacinto was in his pay."

"In his pay!" cried Mr. Damon. "Do you mean

that Beecher deliberately hired Jacinto to betray us?"

"Well, no. Not that exactly. Here, I'll translate

this note for you," and the professor proceeded to read:

"Senors: I greatly regret the step I have to

take, but I am a gentleman, and, having given

my word, I must keep it. No harm shall come

to you, I swear it on my honor!"

"Queer idea of honor he has!" commented Tom, grimly.

Professor Bumper read on:

"Know then, that before I engaged myself to

you I had been engaged by Professor Beecher

through a friend to guide him into the Copan

valley, where he wants to make some explorations,

for what I know not, save maybe that it

is for gold. I agreed, in case any rival expeditions

came to lead them astray if I could.

"So, knowing from what you said that you

were going to this place, I engaged myself to you,

planning to do what I have done. I greatly regret

it, as I have come to like you, but I had

given my promise to Professor Beecher's friend,

that I would first lead him to the Copan valley,

and would keep others away until he had had a

chance to do his exploration.

"So I have led you to this wilderness. It is

far from the Copan, but you are near an Indian

village, and you will be able to get help in a week

or so. In the meanwhile you will not starve, as

you have plenty of supplies. If you will travel

northeast you will come again to Puerto Cortes

in due season. As for the money I had from

you, I deposit it to your credit, Professor Beecher

having made me an allowance for steering rival

parties on the wrong trail. So I lose nothing,

and I save my honor.

"I write this note as I am leaving in the night

with the Indians. I put some harmless sedative

in your tea that you might sleep soundly, and not

awaken until we were well on our way. Do not

try to follow us, as the river will carry us swiftly

away. And, let me add, there is no personal

animosity on the part of Professor Beecher

against you. I should have done to any rival

expedition the same as I have done with you.

JACINTO."

For a moment there was silence, and then Tom

Swift burst out with:

"Well, of all the mean, contemptible tricks

of a human skunk this is the limit!"

"Bless my hairbrush, but he is a scoundrel!"

ejaculated Mr. Damon, with great warmth.

"I'd like to start after him the biggest alligator

in the river," was Ned's comment.

Professor Bumper said nothing for several

seconds. There was a strange look on his face,

and then he laughed shortly, as though the humor

of the situation appealed to him.

"Professor Beecher has more gumption than I gave

him credit for," he said. "It was a clever trick!"

"Trick!" cried Tom.

"Yes. I can't exactly agree that it was the

right thing to do, but he, or some friend acting

for him, seems to have taken precautions that

we are not to suffer or lose money. Beecher

goes on the theory that all is fair in love and

war, I suppose, and he may call this a sort of

scientific war."

Ned wondered, as he looked at his chum, how

much love there was in it. Clearly Beecher was

determined to get that idol of gold.

"Well, it can't be helped, and we must make

the best of it," said Tom, after a pause.

"True. But now, boys, let's have breakfast,

and then we'll make what goods we can't take

with us as snug as possible, until we can send

the mule drivers after them," went on Professor

Bumper.

"Send the mule drivers after them?" questioned Ned.

"What do you mean to do?"

"Do? Why keep on, of course. You don't

suppose I'm going to let a little thing like this

stand between me and the discovery of Kurzon

and the idol of gold, do you?"

"But," began Mr. Damon, "I don't see how--"

"Oh, we'll find a way," interrupted Tom. "It

isn't the first time I've been pretty well stranded

on an expedition of this kind, and sometimes

from the same cause--the actions of a rival.

Now we'll turn the tables on the other fellows

and see how they like it. The professor's right

--let's have breakfast. Jacinto seems to have

told the truth. Nothing of ours is missing."

Tom and Ned got the meal, and then a

consultation was held as to what was best to be

done.

"We can't go on any further by water, that's

sure," said Tom. "In the first place the river

is too shallow, and secondly we have no canoes.

So the only thing is to go on foot through the

jungle."

"But how can we, and carry all this stuff?"

asked Ned.

"We needn't carry it!" cried Professor Bumper.

"We'll leave it here, where it will be safe enough,

and tramp on to the nearest Indian village.

There we'll hire bearers to take our stuff on until

we can get mules. I'm not going to turn back!"

"Good!" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless my

rubber boots! but that's what I say--keep on!"

"Oh, no! we'll never turn back," agreed Tom.

"But how can we manage it?" asked Ned.

"We've just got to! And when you have

to do a thing, it's a whole lot easier to do than

if you just feel as though you ought to. So,

lively is the word!" cried Tom, in answer.

"We'll pack up what we can carry and leave

the rest," added the scientist.

Being an experienced traveler Professor Bumper

had arranged his baggage so that it could

be carried by porters if necessary. Everything

could be put into small packages, including the

tents and food supply.

"There are four of us," remarked Tom, "and if

we can not pack enough along with us to enable

us to get to the nearest village, we had better

go back to civilization. I'm not afraid to try."

"Nor I!" cried Mr. Damon.

The baggage, stores and supplies that were

to be left behind were made as snug as possible,

and so piled up that wild beasts could do the

least harm. Then a pack was made up for each

one to carry.

They would take weapons, of course, Tom

Swift's electric rifle being the one he choose for

himself. They expected to be able to shoot

game on their way, and this would provide them

food in addition to the concentrated supply they

carried. Small tents, in sections, were carried,

there being two, one for Tom and Ned and one

for Mr. Damon and the professor.

As far as could be learned from a casual

inspection, Jacinto and his deserting Indians had

taken back with them only a small quantity of

food. They were traveling light and down

stream, and could reach the town much more

quickly than they had come away from it.

"That Beecher certainly was slick," commented

Professor Bumper when they were ready to

start. "He must have known about what time

I would arrive, and he had Jacinto waiting for

us. I thought it was too good to be true, to get

an experienced guide like him so easily. But it

was all planned, and I was so engrossed in thinking

of the ancient treasures I hope to find that

I never thought of a possible trick. Well, let's

start!" and he led the way into the jungle, carrying

his heavy pack as lightly as did Tom.

Professor Bumper had a general idea in which

direction lay a number of native villages, and it

was determined to head for them, blazing a path

through the wilderness, so that the Indians could

follow it back to the goods left behind.

It was with rather heavy hearts that the party

set off, but Tom's spirits could not long stay

clouded, and the scientist was so good-natured

about the affair and seemed so eager to do the

utmost to render Beecher's trick void, that the

others fell into a lighter mood, and went on

more cheerfully, though the way was rough and

the packs heavy.

They stopped at noon under a bower they made

of palms, and, spreading the nets over them, got a

little rest after a lunch. Then, when the sun

was less hot, they started off again.

"Forward is the word!" cried Ned cheerfully. "Forward!"'

They had not gone more than an hour on the

second stage of their tramp when Tom, who

was in the lead, following the direction laid out

by the compass, suddenly stopped, and reached

around for his electric rifle, which he was carrying

at his back.

"What is it?" asked Ned in a whisper.

"I don't know, but it's some big animal there

in the bushes," was Tom's low-voiced answer.

"I'm ready for it."

The rustling increased, and a form could be

seen indistinctly. Tom aimed the deadly gun

and stood ready to pull the trigger.

Ned, tho had a side view into the underbrush,

gave a sudden cry.

"Don't shoot, Tom!" he yelled. "It's a man!"

CHAPTER XIV:

A NEW GUIDE

In spite of Ned Newton's cry, Tom's finger

pressed the switch-trigger of the electric rifle,

for previous experience had taught him that it

was sometimes the best thing to awe the natives

in out-of-the-way corners of the earth. But the

young inventor quickly elevated the muzzle, and

the deadly missile went hissing through the air

over the head of a native Indian who, at that

moment, stepped from the bush.

The man, startled and alarmed, shrank back

and was about to run into the jungle whence he

had emerged. Small wonder if he had, considering

the reception he so unwittingly met with.

But Tom. aware of the necessity for making

inquiries of one who knew that part of the jungle,

quickly called to him.

"Hold on!" he shouted. "Wait a minute. I didn't

mean that. I thought at first you were a

tapir or a tiger. No harm intended. I say,

Professor," Tom called back to the savant,

"you'd better speak to him in his lingo, I can't

manage it. He may be useful in guiding us to

that Indian village Jacinto told us of."

This Professor Bumper did, being able to make

himself understood in the queer part-Spanish

dialect used by the native Hondurians, though

he could not, of course, speak it as fluently as

had Jacinto.

Professor Bumper had made only a few remarks

to the man who had so unexpectedly appeared

out of the jungle when the scientist gave an

exclamation of surprise at some of the answers made.

"Bless my moving picture!" cried Mr. Damon.

"What's the matter now? Is anything wrong?

Does he refuse to help us?"

"No, it isn't that," was the answer. "In fact

he came here to help us. Tom, this is the brother

of the Indian who fell overboard and who was eaten

by the alligators. He says you were very kind

to try to save his brother with your rifle,

and for that reason he has come back to help us."

"Come back?" queried Tom.

"Yes, he went off with the rest of the Indians

when Jacinto deserted us, but he could not stand

being a traitor, after you had tried to save his

brother's life. These Indians are queer people.

They don't show much emotion, but they have

deep feelings. This one says he will devote

himself to your service from now on. I believe

we can count on him. He is deeply grateful to

you, Tom."

"I'm glad of that for all our sakes. But what

does he say about Jacinto?"

The professor asked some more questions,

receiving answers, and then translated them.

"This Indian, whose name is Tolpec, says

Jacinto is a fraud," exclaimed Professor Bumper.

"He made all the Indians leave us in the night,

though many of them were willing to stay and

fill the contract they had made. But Jacinto

would not let them, making them desert. Tolpec

went away with the others, but because of what

Tom had done he planned to come back at the

first chance and be our guide. Accordingly he

jumped ashore from one of the canoes, and made

his way to our camp. He got there, found it

deserted and followed us, coming up just now."

"Well I'm glad I didn't frighten him off with

my gun," remarked Tom grimly. "So he agrees

with us that Jacinto is a scoundrel, does he?

I guess he might as well classify Professor

Beecher in the same way."

"I am not quite so sure of that," said Professor

Bumper slowly. "I can not believe Beecher

would play such a trick as this, though some

over-zealous friend of his might."

"Oh, of course Beecher did it!" cried Tom.

"He heard we were coming here, figured out that

we'd start ahead of him, and he wanted to side-

track us. Well, he did it all right," and Tom's

voice was bitter.

"He has only side-tracked us for a while,"

announced Professor Bumper in cheerful tones.

"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Damon.

"I mean that this Indian comes just in the nick

of time. He is well acquainted with this part

of the jungle, having lived here all his life,

and he offers to guide us to a place where we can

get mules to transport ourselves and our baggage

to Copan."

"Fine!" cried Ned. "When can we start?"

Once more the professor and the native

conversed in the strange tongue, and then Professor

Bumper announced:

"He says it will be better for us to go back

where we left our things and camp there. He

will stay with us to-night and in the morning go

on to the nearest Indian town and come back

with porters and helpers."

"I think that is good advice to follow," put in

Tom, "for we do need our goods; and if we

reached the settlement ourselves, we would have

to send back for our things, with the uncertainty

of getting them all."

So it was agreed that they would make a forced

march back through the jungle to where they

had been deserted by Jacinto. There they would

make camp for the night, and until such time as

Tolpec could return with a force of porters.

It was not easy, that backward tramp through

the jungle, especially as night had fallen. But

the new Indian guide could see like a cat, and

led the party along paths they never could have

found by themselves. The use of their pocket

electric lights was a great help, and possibly

served to ward off the attacks of jungle beasts,

for as they tramped along they could hear stealthy

sounds in the underbush on either side of the

path, as though tigers were stalking them. For

there was in the woods an animal of the leopard

family, called tiger or "tigre" by the natives,

that was exceedingly fierce and dangerous. But

watchfulness prevented any accident, and eventually

the party reached the place where they had

left their goods. Nothing had been disturbed,

and finally a fire was made, the tents set up and

a light meal, with hot tea served.

"We'll get ahead of Beecher yet," said Tom.

"You seem as anxious as Professor Bumper,"

observed Mr. Damon,

"I guess I am," admitted Tom. "I want to

see that idol of gold in the possession of our

party."

The night passed without incident, and then,

telling his new friends that he would return as

soon as possible with help, Tolpec, taking a

small supply of food with him, set out through

the jungle again.

As the green vines and creepers closed after

him, and the explorers were left alone with their

possessions piled around them, Ned remarked:

"After all, I wonder if it was wise to let him go?"

"Why not?" asked Tom.

"Well, maybe he only wanted to get us back

here, and then he'll desert, too. Maybe that's

what he's done now, making us lose two or three

days by inducing us to return, waiting for what

will never happen--his return with other

natives."

A silence followed Ned's intimation.

CHAPTER XV

IN THE COILS

"Ned, do you really think Tolpec is going to

desert us?" asked Tom.

"Well, I don't know," was the slowly given reply.

"It's a possibility, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," broke in Professor Bumper. "But

what if it is? We might as well trust him, and

if he proves true, as I believe he will, we'll be

so much better off. If he proves a traitor we'll

only have lost a few days, for if he doesn't come

back we can go on again in the way we started."

"But that's just it!" complained Tom. "We

don't want to lose any time with that Beecher

chap on our trail."

"I am not so very much concerned about him,"

remarked Professor Bumper, dryly.

"Why not?" snapped out Mr. Damon.

"Well, because I think he'll have just about

as hard work locating the hidden city, and finding

the idol of gold, as we'll have. In other words

it will be an even thing, unless he gets too far

ahead of us, or keeps us back, and I don't believe

he can do that now.

"So I thought it best to take a chance with this

Indian. He would hardly have taken the trouble

to come all the way back, and run the risks he

did, just to delay us a few days. However, we'll

soon know. Meanwhile, we'll take it easy and

wait for the return of Tolpec and his friends."

Though none of them liked to admit it, Ned's

words had caused his three friends some anxiety,

and though they busied themselves about the

camp there was an air of waiting impatiently for

something to occur. And waiting is about the

hardest work there is.

But there was nothing for it but to wait, and

it might be at least a week, Professor Bumper

said, before the Indian could return with a party

of porters and mules to move their baggage.

"Yes, Tolpec has not only to locate the

settlement," Tom admitted, "but he must persuade the

natives to come back with him. He may have

trouble in that, especially if it is known that he

has left Jacinto, who, I imagine, is a power among

the tribes here."

But there were only two things left to do--wait

and hope. The travelers did both. Four days

passed and there was no sign of Tolpec. Eager-

ly, and not a little anxiously, they watched the

jungle path along which he had disappeared.

"Oh, come on!" exclaimed Tom one morning,

when the day seemed a bit cooler than its

predecessor. "Let's go for a hunt, or something!

I'm tired of sitting around camp."

"Bless my watch hands! So am I!" cried Mr. Damon.

"Let's all go for a trip. It will do us good."

"And perhaps I can get some specimens of interest,"

added Professor Bumper, who, in addition to being

an archaeologist, was something of a naturalist.

Accordingly, having made everything snug in

camp, the party, Tom and Ned equipped with

electric rifles, and the professor with a butterfly

net and specimen boxes, set forth. Mr. Damon

said he would carry a stout club as his weapon.

The jungle, as usual, was teeming with life,

but as Ned and Tom did not wish to kill wantonly

they refrained from shooting until later in the

day. For once it was dead, game did not keep

well in that hot climate, and needed to be cooked

almost immediately.

"We'll try some shots on our back trip," said

the young inventor.

Professor Bumper found plenty of his own

particular kind of "game" which he caught in the

net, transferring the specimens to the boxes he

carried. There were beautiful butterflies, moths

and strange bugs in the securing of which the

scientist evinced great delight, though when one

beetle nipped him firmly and painfully on his

thumb his involuntary cry of pain was as real

as that of any other person.

"But I didn't let him get away," he said in

triumph when he had dropped the clawing insect

into the cyanide bottle where death came painlessly.

"It is well worth a sore thumb."

They wandered on through the jungle, taking

care not to get too far from their camp, for they

did not want to lose their way, nor did they want

to be absent too long in case Tolpec and his

native friends should return.

"Well, it's about time we shot something, I

think," remarked Ned, when they had been out

about two hours. "Let's try for some of these

wild turkeys. They ought to go well roasted

even if it isn't Thanksgiving."

"I'm with you," agreed Tom. "Let's see who

has the best luck. But tone down the charge

in your rifle and use a smaller projectile, or you'll

have nothing but a bunch of feathers to show

for your shot. The guns are loaded for deer."

The change was made, and once more the two

young men started off, a little ahead of Professor

Bumper and Mr. Damon. Tom and Ned had

not gone far, however, before they heard a strange

cry from Mr. Damon.

"Tom! Ned!" shouted the eccentric man,

"Here's a monster after me! Come quick!"

"A tiger!" ejaculated Tom, as he began once

more to change the charge in his rifle to a larger

one, running back, meanwhile, in the direction

of the sound of the voice.

There were really no tigers in Honduras, the

jaguar being called a tiger by the natives, while

the cougar is called a lion. The presence of these

animals, often dangerous to man, had been indicated

around camp, and it was possible that one had been

bold enough to attack Mr. Damon, not through hunger,

but because of being cornered.

"Come on, Ned!" cried Tom. "He's in some

sort of trouble!"

But when, a moment later, the young inventor

burst through a fringe of bushes and saw Mr.

Damon standing in a little clearing, with upraised

club, Tom could not repress a laugh.

"Kill it, Tom! Kill it!" begged the eccentric man.

"Bless my insurance policy, but it's a terrible beast!"

And so it was, at first glance. For it was a

giant iguana, one of the most repulsive-looking

of the lizards. Not unlike an alligator in shape,

with spikes on its head and tail, with a warty,

squatty ridge-encrusted body, a big pouch beneath

its chin, and long-toed claws, it was enough

to strike terror into the heart of almost any one.

Even the smaller ones look dangerous, and this

one, which was about five feet long, looked

capable of attacking a man and injuring him. As

a matter of fact the iguanas are harmless, their

shape and coloring being designed to protect them.

"Don't be afraid, Mr. Damon," called Tom, still

laughing. "It won't hurt you!"

"I'm not so positive of that. It won't let me pass."

"Just take your club and poke it out of the way,"

the young inventor advised. "It's only waiting

to be shoved."

"Then you do it, Tom. Bless my looking glass,

but I don't want to go near it! If my wife could

see me now she'd say it served me just right."

Mr. Damon was not a coward, but the giant

iguana was not pleasant to look at. Tom, with

the butt of his rifle, gave it a gentle shove,

whereupon the creature scurried off through the brush

as though glad to make its escape unscathed.

"I thought it was a new kind of alligator," said

Mr. Damon with a sigh of relief.

"Where is it?" asked Professor Bumper, coming

up at this juncture. "A new species of alligator?

Let me see it!"

"It's too horrible," said Mr. Damon. "I never

want to see one again. It was worse than a

vampire bat!"

Notwithstanding this, when he heard that it

was one of the largest sized iguanas ever seen,

the professor started through the jungle after it.

"We can't take it with us if we get it," Tom

called after his friend.

"We might take the skin," answered the

professor. "I have a standing order for such things

from one of the museums I represent. I'd like

to get it. Then they are often eaten. We can

have a change of diet. you see."

"We'd better follow him," said Tom to Ned.

"We'll have to let the turkeys go for a while.

He may get into trouble. Come on."

Off they started through the jungle, trailing

after the impetuous professor who was intent on

capturing the iguana. The giant lizard's progress

could be traced by the disturbance of the

leaves and underbrush, and the professor was

following as closely as possible.

So fast did he go that Ned, Tom and Mr.

Damon, following, lost sight of him several

times, and Tom finally called:

"Wait a minute. We'll all be lost if you keep

this up."

"I'll have him in another minute," answered

the professor. "I can almost reach him now.

Then---- Oh!"

His voice ended in a scream that seemed to

be one of terror. So sudden was the change that

Tom and Ned, who were together, ahead of Mr.

Damon, looked at one another in fear.

"What has happened?" whispered Ned, pausing.

"Don't stop to ask--come on!" shouted Tom.

At that instant again came the voice of the savant.

"Tom! Ned!" he gasped, rather than cried.

"I'm caught in the coils! Quick--quick if you

would save me!"

"In the coils!" repeated Ned. "What does he mean?

Can the giant iguana----"

Tom Swift did not stop to answer. With his

electric rifle in readiness, he leaped forward

through the jungle.

CHAPTER XVI

A MEETING IN THE JUNGLE

Before Tom and Ned reached the place

whence Professor Bumper had called, they heard

strange noises, other than the imploring voice of

their friend. It seemed as though some great

body was threshing about in the jungle, lashing

the trees, bushes and leaves about, and when

the two young men, followed by Mr. Damon,

reached the scene they saw that, in a measure,

this really accounted for what they heard.

Something like a great whip was beating about

close to two trees that grew near together. And

then, when the storm of twigs, leaves and dirt,

caused by the leaping, threshing thing ceased for

a moment, the onlookers saw something that

filled them with terror.

Between the two trees, and seemingly bound

to them by a great coiled rope, spotted and banded,

was the body of Professor Bumper. His arms

were pinioned to his sides and there was horror

and terror on his face, that looked imploringly

at the youths from above the topmost coil of

those encircling him.

"What is it?" cried Mr. Damon, as he ran

pantingly up. "What has caught him? Is it the

giant iguana?"

"It's a snake--a great boa!" gasped Tom. "It

has him in its coils. But it is wound around

the trees, too. That alone prevents it from

crushing the professor to death.

"Ned, be ready with your rifle. Put in the

heaviest charge, and watch your chance to fire!"

The great, ugly head of the boa reared itself

up from the coils which it had, with the quickness

of thought, thrown about the man between

the two trees. This species of snake is not

poisonous, and kills its prey by crushing it to

death, making it into a pulpy mass, with scarcely

a bone left unbroken, after which it swallows

its meal. The crushing power of one of these

boas, some of which reach a length of thirty

feet, with a body as large around as that of a

full-grown man, is enormous.

"I'm going to fire!" suddenly cried Tom. He

had seen his chance and he took it. There was

the faint report--the crack of the electric rifle--

and the folds of the serpent seemed to relax.

"I see a good chance now," added Ned, who

had taken the small charge from his weapon,

replacing it with a heavier one.

His rifle was also discharged in the direction

of the snake, and Tom saw that the hit was a

good one, right through the ugly head of the reptile.

"One other will be enough to make him loosen

his coils!" cried Tom, as he fired again, and such

was the killing power of the electric bullets that

the snake, though an immense one, and one that

short of decapitation could have received many

injuries without losing power, seemed to shrivel up.

Its folds relaxed, and the coils of the great

body fell in a heap at the roots of the two trees,

between which the scientist had been standing.

Professor Bumper seemed to fall backward as

the grip of the serpent relaxed, but Tom, dropping

his rifle, and calling to Ned to keep an eye

on the snake, leaped forward and caught his friend.

"Are you hurt?" asked Tom, carrying the limp

form over to a grassy place. There was no

answer, the savant's eyes were closed and he

breathed but faintly.

Ned Newton fired two more electric bullets

into the still writhing body of the boa.

"I guess he's all in," he called to Tom.

"Bless my horseradish! And so our friend

seems to be," commented Mr. Damon. "Have

you anything with which to revive him, Tom?"

"Yes. Some ammonia. See if you can find a

little water."

"I have some in my flask."

Tom mixed a dose of the spirits which he

carried with him, and this, forced between the pallid

lips of the scientist, revived him.

"What happened?" he asked faintly as he opened

his eyes. "Oh, yes, I remember," he added

slowly. "The boa----"

"Don't try to talk," urged Tom. "You're all

right. The snake is dead, or dying. Are you

much hurt?"

Professor Bumper appeared to be considering.

He moved first one limb, then another. He

seemed to have the power over all his muscles.

"I see how it happened," he said, as he sat

up, after taking a little more of the ammonia. "I

was following the iguana, and when the big lizard

came to a stop, in a little hollow place in the

ground, at the foot of those two trees, I leaned

over to slip a noose of rope about its neck. Then

I felt myself caught, as if in the hands of a giant,

and bound fast between the two trees."

"It was the big boa that whipped itself around

you, as you leaned over," explained Tom, as Ned

came up to announce that the snake was no

longer dangerous. "But when it coiled around

you it also coiled around the two trees, you,

fortunately slipping between them. Had it not

been that their trunks took off some of the pressure

of the coils you wouldn't have lasted a minute."

"Well, I was pretty badly squeezed as it was,"

remarked the professor. "I hardly had breath

enough left to call to you. I tried to fight off the

serpent, but it was of no use."

"I should say not!" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless my

circus ring! one might as well try to combat

an elephant! But, my dear professor, are you all

right now?"

"I think so--yes. Though I shall be lame and

stiff for a few days, I fear. I can hardly walk."

Professor Bumper was indeed unable to go

about much for a few days after his encounter

with the great serpent. He stretched out in a

hammock under trees in the camp clearing, and

with his friends waited for the possible return

of Tolpec and the porters.

Ned and Tom made one or two short hunting

trips, and on these occasions they kept a lookout

in the direction the Indian had taken when he

went away.

"For he's sure to come back that way--if he

comes at all," declared Ned; "which I am beginning

to doubt."

"Well, he may not come," agreed Tom, who

was beginning to lose some of his first hope.

"But he won't necessarily come from the same

direction he took. He may have had to go in an

entirely different way to get help. We'll hope

for the best."

A week passed. Professor Bumper was able

to be about, and Tom and Ned noticed that

there was an anxious look on his face. Was he,

too, beginning to despair?

"Well, this isn't hunting for golden idols very

fast," said Mr. Damon, the morning of the eighth

day after their desertion by the faithless Jacinto.

"What do you say, Professor Bumper; ought

we not to start off on our own account?"

"We had better if Tolpec does not return

today," was the answer.

They had eaten breakfast, had put their camp

in order, and were about to have a consultation

on what was best to do, when Tom suddenly

called to Ned, who was whistling:

"Hark!"

Through the jungle came a faint sound of singing

--not a harmonious air, but the somewhat

barbaric chant of the natives.

"It is Tolpec coming back!" cried Mr. Damon.

"Hurray! Now our troubles are over t Bless my

meal ticket! Now we can start!"

"It may be Jacinto," suggested Ned.

"Nonsense! you old cold-water pitcher!"

cried Tom. "It's Tolpec! I can see him! He's

a good scout all right!"

And then, walking at the head of a band of

Indians who were weirdly chanting while behind

them came a train of mules, was Tolpec, a cheerful

grin covering his honest, if homely, dark face.

"Me come back!" he exclaimed in gutteral

English, using about half of his foreign vocabulary.

"I see you did," answered Professor Bumper

in the man's own tongue. "Glad to see you.

Is everything all right?"

"All right," was the answer. "These Indians

will take you where you want to go, and will not

leave you as Jacinto did."

"We'll start in the morning!" exclaimed the

savant his own cheerful self again, now that

there was a prospect of going further into the

interior. "Tell the men to get something to eat,

Tolpec. There is plenty for all."

"Good!" grunted the new guide and soon the

hungry Indians, who had come far, were satisfying

their hunger.

As they ate Tolpec explained to Professor

Bumper, who repeated it to the youths and Mr.

Damon, that it had been necessary to go farther

than he had intended to get the porters and

mules. But the Indians were a friendly tribe,

of which he was a member, and could be depended on.

There was a feast and a sort of celebration in

camp that night. Tom and Ned shot two deer,

and these formed the main part of the feast and

the Indians made merry about the fire until nearly

midnight. They did not seem to mind in the

least the swarms of mosquitoes and other bugs

that flew about, attracted by the light. As for

Tom Swift and his friends, their nets protected

them.

An early start was made the following morning.

Such packages of goods and supplies as could

not well be carried by the Indians in their head

straps, were loaded on the backs of the pack-

mules. Tolpec explained that on reaching the

Indian village, where he had secured the porters,

they could get some ox-carts which would be a

convenience in traveling into the interior toward

the Copan valley.

The march onward for the next two days was

tiresome; but the Indians Tolpec had secured

were as faithful and efficient as he had described

them, and good progress was made.

There were a few accidents. One native fell

into a swiftly running stream as they were fording

it and lost a box containing some much-needed

things. But as the man's life was saved Professor

Bumper said it made up for the other loss.

Another accident did not end so auspiciously.

One of the bearers was bitten by a poisonous

snake, and though prompt measures were taken,

the poison spread so rapidly that the man died.

In due season the Indian village was reached.

where, after a day spent in holding funeral services

over the dead bearer, preparations were

made for proceeding farther.

This time some of the bearers were left behind,

and ox-carts were substituted for them, as it was

possible to carry more goods this way,

"And now we're really off for Copan!"

exclaimed Professor Bumper one morning, when

the cavalcade, led by Tolpec in the capacity of

head guide, started off. "I hope we have no

more delays."

"I hope not, either," agreed Tom. "That

Beecher may be there ahead of us."

Weary marches fell to their portion. There

were mountains to climb, streams to ford or swim,

sending the carts over on rudely made rafts.

There were storms to endure, and the eternal heat

to fight.

But finally the party emerged from the

lowlands of the coast and went up in among the

hills, where though the going was harder, the

climate was better. It was not so hot and moist.

Not wishing to attract attention in Copan

itself, Professor Bumper and his party made a

detour, and finally, after much consultation with

Tom over the ancient maps, the scientist announced

that he thought they were in the vicinity

of the buried city.

"We will begin test excavations in the

morning," he said.

The party was in camp, and preparations were

made for spending the night in the forest, when

from among the trees there floated to the ears

of our friends a queer Indian chant.

"Some one is coming," said Tom to Ned.

Almost as he spoke there filed into the clearing

where the camp had been set up, a cavalcade of white men,

followed by Indians. And at the sight of one

of the white men Tom Swift uttered a cry.

"Professor Beecher!" gasped the young inventor.

CHAPTER XVII

THE LOST MAP

The on-marching company of white men, with

their Indian attendants, came to a halt on the

edge of the clearing as they caught sight of the

tents already set up there. The barbaric chant

of the native bearers ceased abruptly, and there

was a look of surprise shown on the face of

Professor Fenimore Beecher. For Professor Beecher

it was, in the lead of the rival expedition.

"Bless my shoe laces!" exclaimed Mr. Damon.

"Is it really Beecher?" asked Ned, though he knew

as well as Tom that it was the young archaeologist.

"It certainly is!" declared Tom. "And he has

nerve to follow us so closely!"

"Maybe he thinks we have nerve to get here

ahead of him," suggested Ned, smiling grimly.

"Probably," agreed Tom, with a short laugh.

"Well, it evidently surprises him to find us here

at all, after the mean trick he played on us to

get Jacinto to lead us into the jungle and desert

us."

"That's right," assented Ned. "Well, what's

the next move?"

There seemed to be some doubt about this

on the part of both expeditions. At the sight

of Professor Beecher, Professor Bumper, who had

come out of his tent, hurriedly turned to Tom

and asked him what he thought it best to do.

"Do!" exclaimed the eccentric Mr. Damon,

not giving Tom time to reply. "Why, stand

your ground, of course! Bless my house and

lot! but we're here first! For the matter of that,

I suppose the jungle is free and we can no more

object to his coming: here than he can to our

coming. First come, first served, I suppose is the

law of the forest."

Meanwhile the surprise occasioned by the

unexpected meeting of their rivals seemed to have

spread something like consternation among the

white members of the Beecher party. As for the

natives they evidently did not care one way or

the other.

There was a hasty consultation among the

professors accompanying Mr. Beecher, and then the

latter himself advanced toward the tents of Tom

and his friends and asked:

"How long have you been here?"

"I don't see that we are called upon to answer

that question," replied Professor Bumper stiffly.

"Perhaps not, and yet----"

"There is no perhaps about it!" said Professor

Bumper quickly. "I know what your object is,

as I presume you do mine. And, after what

I may term your disgraceful and unsportsmanlike

conduct toward me and my friends, I prefer

not to have anything further to do with you.

We must meet as strangers hereafter."

"Very well," and Professor Beecher's voice was

as cold and uncompromising as was his rival's.

"Let it be as your wish. But I must say I don't

know what you mean by unsportsmanlike conduct."

"An explanation would be wasted on you,"

said Professor Bumper stiffly. "But in order that

you may know I fully understand what you did

I will say that your efforts to thwart us through

your tool Jacinto came to nothing. We are here

ahead of you."

"Jacinto!" cried Professor Beecher in real or

simulated surprise. "Why, he was not my `tool,'

as you term it."

"Your denial is useless in the light of his

confession," asserted Professor Bumper.

"Confession?"

"Now look here!" exclaimed the older

professor, "I do not propose to lower myself by

quarreling with you. I know certainly what

you and your party tried to do to prevent us

from getting here. But we got out of the trap

you set for us, and we are on the ground first.

I recognize your right to make explorations as

well as ourselves, and I presume you have not

fallen so low that you will not recognize the

unwritten law in a case of this kind--the law

which says the right of discovery belongs to the

one who first makes it."

"I shall certainly abide by such conduct as

is usual under the circumstances," said

Professor Beecher more stiffly than before.

"At the same time I must deny having set a trap.

And as for Jacinto----"

"It will be useless to discuss it further!"

broke in Professor Bumper.

"Then no more need be said," retorted the

younger man. "I shall give orders to my friends,

as well as to the natives, to keep away from

your camp, and I shall expect you to do the

same regarding mine."

"I should have suggested the same thing

myself," came from Tom's friend, and the two rival

scientists fairly glared at one another, the others

of both parties looking on with interest.

Professor Bumper turned and walked defiantly

back to his tent. Professor Beecher did the same

thing. Then, after a short consultation among

the white members of the latter's organization,

their tents were set up in another clearing,

removed and separated by a screen of trees and

bushes from those of Tom Swift's friends. The

natives of the Beecher party also withdrew a little

way from those of Professor Bumper's organization,

and then preparations for spending the

night in the jungle went on in the rival

headquarters.

"Well, he certainly had nerve, to deny, practically,

that he had set Jacinto up to do what he did," commented Tom.

"I should say so!" agreed Ned.

"How do you imagine he got here nearly as

soon as we did, when he did not start until

later?" asked Mr. Damon.

"He did not have the unfortunate experience

of being deserted in the jungle," replied Tom.

"He probably had Jacinto, or some of that

unprincipled scoundrel's friends, show him a short

route to Copan and he came on from there."

"Well, I did hope we might have the ground

to ourselves, at least for the preliminary explorations

and excavations. But it is not to be. My

rival is here," sighed Professor Bumper.

"Don't let that discourage you!" exclaimed Tom.

"We can fight all the better now the foe

is in the open, and we know where he is."

"Yes, Tom Swift, that is true," agreed the

scientist. "I am not going to give up, but I

shall have to change my plans a little. Perhaps

you will come into the tent with me," and he

nodded to Tom and Ned. "I want to talk over

certain matters with you and Mr. Damon."

"Pleased to," assented the young inventor, and

his financial secretary nodded.

A little later, supper having been eaten, the

camp made shipshape and the natives settled

down, Tom, Ned, Mr. Damon and Professor

Bumper assembled in the tent of the scientist,

where a dry battery lamp gave sufficient illumination

to show a number of maps and papers scattered

over an improvised table.

"Now, gentlemen," said the professor, "I have

called you here to go over my plans more in

detail than I have hitherto done, now we are on

the ground. You know in a general way what

I hope to accomplish, but the time has come

when I must be specific.

"Aside from being on the spot, below which,

or below the vicinity where, I believe, lies the

lost city of Kurzon and, I hope, the idol of gold,

a situation has arisen--an unexpected situation,

I may say--which calls for different action from

that I had counted on.

"I refer to the presence of my rival, Professor

Beecher. I will not dwell now on what he has

done. It is better to consider what he may do."

"That's right," agreed Ned. "He may get up in

the night, dig up this city and skip with that

golden image before we know it."

"Hardly," grinned Tom.

"No," said Professor Bumper. "Excavating

buried cities in the jungle of Honduras is not

as simple as that. There is much work to be

done. But accidents may happen, and in case

one should occur to me, and I be unable to prosecute

the search, I want one of you to do it. For

that reason I am going to show you the maps

and ancient documents and point out to you

where I believe the lost city lies. Now, if you

will give me your attention, I'll proceed."

The professor went over in detail the story

of how he had found the old documents relating

to the lost city of Kurzon, and of how, after

much labor and research, he had located the

city in the Copan valley. The great idol of

gold was one of the chief possessions of Kurzon,

and it was often referred to in the old

papers; copies and translations of which the

professor had with him.

"But this is the most valuable of all," he said,

as he opened an oiled-silk packet. "And before

I show it to you, suppose you two young men

take a look outside the tent."

"What for?" asked Mr. Damon.

"To make sure that no emissaries from the

Beecher crowd are sneaking around to overhear

what we say," was the somewhat bitter answer

of the scientist. "I do not trust him, in spite

of his attempted denial."

Tom and Ned took a quick but thorough

observation outside the tent. The blackness of the

jungle night was in strange contrast to the light

they had just left.

"Doesn't seem to be any one around here,"

remarked Ned, after waiting a minute or two.

"No. All's quiet along the Potomac. Those

Beecher natives are having some sort of a song-

fest, though."

In the distance, and from the direction of their

rivals' camp, came the weird chant.

"Well, as long as they stay there we'll be all

right," said Tom. "Come on in. I'm anxious to

hear what the professor has to say."

"Everything's quiet," reported Ned.

"Then give me your attention," begged the

scientist.

Carefully, as though about to exhibit some,

precious jewel, he loosened the oiled-silk wrappings

and showed a large map, on thin but tough

paper.

"This is drawn from the old charts," the

professor explained. "I worked on it many months,

and it is the only copy in the world. If it were

to be destroyed I should have to go all the way

back to New York to make another copy. I have

the original there in a safe deposit vault."

"Wouldn't it have been wise to make two

copies?" asked Tom.

"It would have only increased the risk. With

one copy, and that constantly in my possession,

I can be sure of my ground. Otherwise not.

That is why I am so careful of this. Now I will

show you why I believe we are about over the

ancient city of Kurzon."

"Over it!" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless my

gunpowder! What do you mean?" and he looked

down at the earthen floor of the tent as though

expecting it to open and swallow him.

"I mean that the city, like many others of

Central and South America, is buried below the

refuse of centuries," went on the professor.

"Very soon, if we are fortunate, we shall be

looking on the civilization of hundreds of years

ago--how long no one knows.

"Considerable excavation has been done in

Central America," went on Professor Bumper,

"and certain ruins have been brought to light.

Near us are those of Copan, while toward the

frontier are those of Quirigua, which are even

better preserved than the former. We may visit

them if we have time. But I have reason to

believe that in this section of Copan is a large

city, the existence of which has not been made

certain of by any one save myself--and, perhaps,

Professor Beecher.

"Certainly no part of it has seen the light of

day for many centuries. It shall be our pleasure

to uncover it, if possible, and secure the idol of

gold."

"How long ago do you think the city was

buried?" asked Tom.

"It would be hard to say. From the carvings

and hieroglyphics I have studied it would seem

that the Mayan civilization lasted about five

hundred years, and that it began perhaps in the

year A. D. five hundred."

"That would mean," said Mr. Damon, "that

the ancient cities were in ruins, buried, perhaps,

long before Columbus discovered the new

world."

"Yes," assented the professor. "Probably

Kurzon, which we now seek, was buried deep for

nearly five hundred years before Columbus landed

at San Salvadore. The specimens of writing and

architecture heretofore disclosed indicate that.

But, as a matter of fact, it is very hard to

decipher the Mayan pictographs. So far, little but

the ability to read their calendars and numerical

system is possessed by us, though we are gradually

making headway.

"Now this is the map of the district, and by the

markings you can see where I hope to find what

I seek. We shall begin digging here," and he

made a small mark with a pencil on the map.

"Of course," the professor explained, "I may be

wrong, and it will take some time to discover the

error if we make one. When a city is buried thirty

or forty feet deep beneath earth and great trees

have grown over it, it is not easy to dig down to it."

"How do you ever expect to find it?" asked Ned.

"Well, we will sink shafts here and there. If

we find carved stones, the remains of ancient

pottery and weapons, parts of buildings or building

stones, we shall know we are on the right

track," was the answer. "And now that I have

shown you the map, and explained how valuable

it is, I will put it away again. We shall begin

our excavations in the morning."

"At what point?" asked Tom.

"At a point I shall indicate after a further

consultation of the map. I must see the configuration

of the country by daylight to decide.

And now let's get some rest. We have had a

hard day."

The two tents housing the four white members

of the Bumper party were close together,

and it was decided that the night would be divided

into four watches, to guard against possible

treachery on the part of the Beecher crowd.

"It seems an unkind precaution to take against

a fellow scientist," said Professor Bumper, "but

I can not afford to take chances after what has

occurred."

The others agreed with him, and though standing

guard was not pleasant it was done. However

the night passed without incident, and then

came morning and the excitement of getting

breakfast, over which the Indians made merry.

They did not like the cold and darkness, and

always welcomed the sun, no matter how hot.

"And now," cried Tom, when the meal was

over, "let us begin the work that has brought us

here."

"Yes," agreed Professor Bumper, "I will

consult the map, and start the diggers where I think

the city lies, far below the surface. Now, gentlemen,

if you will give me your attention----"

He was seeking through his outer coat pockets,

after an ineffectual search in the inner one. A

strange look came over his face.

"What's the matter?" asked Tom.

"The map--the map!" gasped the professor.

"The map I was showing you last night! The map

that tells where we are to dig for the idol of gold!

It's gone!"

"The map gone?" gasped Mr. Damon.

"I--I'm afraid so," faltered the professor.

"I put it away carefully, but now----"

He ceased speaking to make a further search

in all his pockets.

"Maybe you left it in another coat," suggested Ned.

"Or maybe some of the Beecher crowd took it!" snapped Tom.

CHAPTER XVIII

"EL TIGRE!"

The four men gazed at one another.

Consternation showed on the face of Professor

Bumper, and was reflected, more or less, on the

countenances of his companions.

"Are you sure the map is gone?" asked Tom.

"I know how easy it is to mislay anything in a

camp of this sort. I couldn't at first find my

safety razor this morning, and when I did locate

it the hoe was in one of my shoes. I'm sure a

rat or some jungle animal must have dragged

it there. Now maybe they took your map,

Professor. That oiled silk in which it was wrapped

might have appealed to the taste of a rat or a

snake."

"It is no joking matter," said Professor

Bumper. "But I know you appreciate the seriousness

of it as much as I do, Tom. But I had the map

in the pocket of this coat, and now it is gone!"

"When did you put it there?" asked Ned.

"This morning, just before I came to breakfast."

"Oh, then you have had it since last night!"

Tom ejaculated.

"Yes, I slept with it under my clothes that I

rolled up for a pillow, and when it was my turn

to stand guard I took it with me. Then I put

it back again and went to sleep. When I awoke

and dressed I put the packet in my pocket and

ate breakfast. Now when I look for it--why,

it's gone!"

"The map or the oiled-silk package?" asked

Mr. Damon, who, once having been a businessman,

was sometimes a stickler for small points.

"Both," answered the professor. "I opened

the silk to tie it more smoothly, so it would not

be such a lump in my pocket, and I made sure

the map was inside."

"Then the whole thing has been taken--or you

have lost it," suggested Ned.

"I am not in the habit of losing valuable maps,"

retorted the scientist. "And the pocket of my

coat I had made deep, for the purpose of carrying

the long map. It could not drop out."

"Well, we mustn't overlook any possible

chances," suggested Tom. "Come on now, we'll

search every inch of the ground over which you

traveled this morning, Professor."

"It MUST be found," murmured the scientist.

"Without it all our work will go for naught."

They all went into the tent where the professor

and Mr. Damon had slept when they were not

on guard. The camp was a busy place, with the

Indians finishing their morning meal, and getting

ready for the work of the day. For word

had been given out that there would be no more

long periods of travel.

In consequence, efforts were being directed by

the head men of the bearers to making a more

permanent camp in the wilderness. Shelters of

palm-thatched huts were being built, a site for

cooking fires made, and, at the direction of Mr.

Damon, to whom this part was entrusted, some

sanitary regulations were insisted on.

Leaving this busy scene, the four, with solemn

faces, proceeded to the tent where it was hoped

the map would be found. But though they went

through everything, and traced and retraced

every place the professor could remember having

traversed about the canvas shelter, no signs of

the important document could be found.

"I don't believe I dropped it out of my pocket,"

said the scientist, for perhaps the twentieth time.

"Then it was taken," declared Tom.

"That's what I say!" chimed in Ned.

"And by some of Beecher's party!"

"Easy, my boy," cautioned Mr. Damon. "We

don't want to make accusations we can't prove."

"That is true," agreed Professor Bumper.

"But, though I am sorry to say it of a fellow

archaelogist, I can not help thinking Beecher

had something to do with the taking of my map."

"But how could any of them get it?" asked Mr. Damon.

"You say you had the map this morning, and certainly

none of them has been in our camp since dawn,

though of course it is possible that some of them

sneaked in during the night."

"It does seem a mystery how it could have

been taken in open daylight, while we were about

camp together," said Tom. "But is the loss

such a grave one, Professor Bumper?"

"Very grave. In fact I may say it is impossible

to proceed with the excavating without the map."

"Then what are we to do?" asked Ned.

"We must get it back!" declared Tom.

"Yes," agreed the scientist, "we can not work

without it. As soon as I make a little further

search, to make sure it could not have dropped

in some out-of-the-way place, I shall go over to

Professor Beecher's camp and demand that he

give me back my property."

"Suppose he says he hasn't taken it?" asked Tom.

"Well, I'm sure he either took it personally,

or one of his party did. And yet I can't understand

how they could have come here without our

seeing them," and the professor shook his head

in puzzled despair.

A more detailed search did not reveal the missing

map, and Mr. Damon and his friend the

scientist were on the point of departing for the

camp of their rivals, less than a mile away, when

Tom had what really amounted to an inspiration.

"Look here, Professor!" he cried. "Can you

remember any of the details of your map--say,

for instance, where we ought to begin excavating

to get at the wonders of the underground city?"

"Well, Tom, I did intend to compare my map

with the configuration of the country about here.

There is a certain mountain which serves as a

landmark and a guide for a starting point. I

think that is it over there," and the scientist

pointed to a distant snow-capped peak.

The party had left the low and marshy land

of the true jungle, and were among the foothills,

though all about them was dense forest and

underbush, which, in reality, was as much a jungle

as the lower plains, but was less wet.

"The point where I believe we should start

to dig," said the professor, "is near the spot

where the top of the mountain casts a shadow

when the sun is one hour high. At least that is

the direction given in the old manuscripts. So,

though we can do little without the map, we

might make a start by digging there."

"No, not there!" exclaimed Tom.

"Why not?"

"Because we don't want to let Beecher's crowd

know that we are on the track of the idol of gold."

"But they know anyhow, for they have the map,"

commented Ned, puzzled by his chum's words.

"Maybe not," said Tom slowly. "I think this

is a time for a big bluff. It may work and it

may not. Beecher's crowd either has the map or

they have not. If they have it they will lose

no time in trying to find the right place to start

digging and then they'll begin excavating.

"Very good! If they do that we have a right

to dig near the same place. But if they have not

the map, which is possible, and if we start to dig

where the professor's memory tells him is the

right spot, we'll only give them the tip, and they'll

dig there also."

"I'm sure they have the map," the professor said.

"But I believe your plan is a good one, Tom."

"Just what do you propose doing?" asked Ned.

"Fooling 'em!" exclaimed Tom quickly. "We'll

dig in some place remote from the spot where the

mountain casts its shadow. They will think, if

they haven't the map, that we are proceeding by

it, and they'll dig, too. When they find nothing,

as will also happen to us, they may go away.

"If, on the other hand, they have the map, and

see us digging at a spot not indicated on it, they

will be puzzled, knowing we must have some idea

of where the buried city lies. They will think

the map is at fault, perhaps, and not make use of

it. Then we can get it back."

"Bless my hatband!" cried Mr. Damon.

"I believe you're right, Tom.

We'll dig in the wrong place to fool 'em."

And this was done. Search for the precious

map was given up for the time being, and the

professor and his friends set the natives to work

digging shafts in the ground, as though sinking

them down to the level of the buried city.

But though this false work was prosecuted with

vigor for several days, there was a feeling of

despair among the Bumper party over the loss of

the map.

"If we could only get it back!" exclaimed the

professor, again and again.

Meanwhile the Beecher party seemed inactive.

True, some members of it did come over to look

on from a respectful distance at what the diggers

were doing. Some of the rival helpers, under

the direction of the head of the expedition, also

began sinking shafts. But they were not in the

locality remembered by Professor Bumper as being

correct.

"I can't imagine what they're up to," he said.

"If they have my map they would act differently,

I should think."

"Whatever they're up to," answered Tom, "the

time has come when we can dig at the place

where we can hope for results." And the following

day shafts were started in the shadow of the

mountain.

Until some evidence should have been obtained

by digging, as to the location beneath the surface

of a buried city, there was nothing for the

travelers to do but wait. Turns were taken in

directing the efforts of the diggers, and an

occasional inspection was made of the shafts.

"What do you expect to find first?" asked Tom

of Professor Bumper one day, when the latter was

at the top of a shaft waiting for a bucket load

of dirt to be hoisted up.

"Potsherds and artifacts," was the answer.

"What sort of bugs are they?" asked Ned with

a laugh. He and Tom were about to go hunting

with their electric rifles.

"Artifacts are things made by the Indians--or

whatever members of the race who built the

ancient cities were called--such as household articles,

vases, ornaments, tools and so on. Anything

made by artificial means is called an artifact."

"And potsherds are things with those Chinese

laundry ticket scratches on them," added Tom.

"Exactly," said the professor, laughing.

"Though some of the strange-appearing inscriptions

give much valuable information. As soon

as we find some of them--say a broken bit of

pottery with hieroglyphics on--I will know I am

on the right track."

And while the scientist and Mr. Damon kept

watch at the top of the shaft, Tom and Ned went

out into the jungle to hunt. They had killed some

game, and were stalking a fine big deer, which

would provide a feast for the natives, when suddenly

the silence of the lonely forest was broken

by a piercing scream, followed by an agonized

cry of

"El tigre! El tigre!"

CHAPTER XIX

POISONED ARROWS

"Did you hear that, Tom?" asked Ned, in a

hoarse whisper.

"Surely," was the cautious answer. "Keep

still, and I'll try for a shot."

"Better be quick," advised Ned in a tense voice.

"The chap who did that yelling seems to be in

trouble!"

And as Ned's voice trailed off into a whisper,

again came the cry, this time in frenzied pain.

"El tigre! El tigre!" Then there was a jumble of words.

"It's over this way!" and this time Ned shouted,

seeing no need for low voices since the other was so loud.

Tom looked to where Ned had parted the

bushes alongside a jungle path. Through the

opening the young inventor saw, in a little glade,

that which caused him to take a firmer grip on his

electric rifle, and also a firmer grip on his nerves.

Directly in front of him and Ned, and not more

than a hundred yards away, was a great tawny

and spotted jaguar--the "tigre" or tiger of Central

America. The beast, with lashing tail, stood

over an Indian upon whom it seemed to have

sprung from some lair, beating the unfortunate

man to the ground. Nor had he fallen scatheless,

for there was blood on the green leaves about

him, and it was not the blood of the spotted

beast.

"Oh, Tom, can you--can you----" and Ned

faltered.

The young inventor understood the unspoken

question.

"I think I can make a shot of it without hitting

the man," he answered, never turning his head.

"It's a question, though, if the beast won't claw

him in the death struggle. It won't last long,

however, if the electric bullet goes to the right

place, and I've got to take the chance."

Cautiously Tom brought his weapon to bear.

Quiet as Ned and he had been after the discovery,

the jaguar seemed to feel that something was

wrong. Intent on his prey, for a time he had

stood over it, gloating. Now the brute glanced

uneasily from side to side, its tail nervously

twitching, and it seemed trying to gain, by a sniffing

of the air, some information as to the direction

in which danger lay, for Tom and Ned had

stooped low, concealing themselves by a screen

of leaves.

The Indian, after his first frenzied outburst

of fear, now lay quiet, as though fearing to move,

moaning in pain.

Suddenly the jaguar, attracted either by some

slight movement on the part of Ned or Tom, or

perhaps by having winded them, turned his head

quickly and gazed with cruel eyes straight at the

spot where the two young men stood behind the

bushes.

"He's seen us," whispered Ned.

"Yes," assented Tom. "And it's a perfect shot.

Hope I don't miss!"

It was not like Tom Swift to miss, nor did he

on this occasion. There was a slight report from

the electric rifle--a report not unlike the crackle

of the wireless--and the powerful projectile sped

true to its mark.

Straight through the throat and chest under

the uplifted jaw of the jaguar it went--through

heart and lungs. Then with a great coughing,

sighing snarl the beast reared up, gave a convulsive

leap forward toward its newly discovered

enemies, and fell dead in a limp heap, just beyond

the native over which it had been crouching before

it delivered the death stroke, now never to fall.

"You did it, Tom! You did it!" cried

Ned, springing up from where he had been kneeling

to give his chum a better chance to shoot.

"You did it, and saved the man's life!" And Ned

would have rushed out toward the still twitching body.

"Just a minute!" interposed Tom. "Those

beasts sometimes have as many lives as a cat.

I'll give it one more for luck." Another electric

projectile through the head of the jaguar produced

no further effect than to move the body

slightly, and this proved conclusively that there

was no life left. It was safe to approach, which

Tom and Ned did.

Their first thought, after a glance at the

jaguar, was for the Indian. It needed but a brief

examination to show that he was not badly hurt.

The jaguar had leaped on him from a low tree

as he passed under it, as the boys learned afterward,

and had crushed the man to earth by the

weight of the spotted body more than by a stroke

of the paw.

The American jaguar is not so formidable a

beast as the native name of tiger would cause

one to suppose, though they are sufficiently dan-

gerous, and this one had rather badly clawed the

Indian. Fortunately the scratches were on the

fleshy parts of the arms and shoulders, where,

though painful, they were not necessarily serious.

"But if you hadn't shot just when you did, Tom,

it would have been all up with him," commented

Ned.

"Oh, well, I guess you'd have hit him if I

hadn't," returned the young inventor. "But let's

see what we can do for this chap."

The man sat up wonderingly--hardly able to

believe that he had been saved from the dreaded

"tigre." His wounds were bleeding rather freely,

and as Tom and Ned carried with them a first-aid

kit they now brought it into use. The wounds

were bound up, the man was given water to

drink and then, as he was able to walk, Tom and

Ned offered to help him wherever he wanted to

go.

"Blessed if I can tell whether he's one of our

Indians or whether he belongs to the Beecher

crowd," remarked Tom.

"Senor Beecher," said the Indian, adding, in

Spanish, that he lived in the vicinity and had

only lately been engaged by the young professor

who hoped to discover the idol of gold before

Tom's scientific friend could do so.

Tom and Ned knew a little Spanish, and with

that, and simple but expressive signs on the part

of the Indian, they learned his story. He had his

palm-thatched hut not far from the Beecher camp,

in a small Indian village, and he, with others,

had been hired on the arrival of the Beecher party

to help with the excavations. These, for some

reason, were delayed.

"Delayed because they daren't use the map they

stole from us," commented Ned.

"Maybe," agreed Tom.

The Indian, whose name, it developed, was Tal,

as nearly as Tom and Ned could master it, had

left camp to go to visit his wife and child in the

jungle hut, intending to return to the Beecher

camp at night. But as he passed through the

forest the jaguar had dropped on him, bearing him

to earth.

"But you saved my life, Senor," he said to

Tom, dropping on one knee and trying to kiss

Tom's hand, which our hero avoided. "And now

my life is yours," added the Indian.

"Well, you'd better get home with it and take

care of it," said Tom. "I'll have Professor Bumper

come over and dress your scratches in a better

and more careful way. The bandages we put

on are only temporary."

"My wife she make a poultice of leaves--they

cure me," said the Indian.

"I guess that will be the best way," observed

Ned. "These natives can doctor themselves for

some things, better than we can."

"Well, we'll take him home," suggested Tom.

"He might keel over from loss of blood.

Come on," he added to Tal, indicating his object.

It was not far to the native's hut from the place

where the jaguar had been killed, and there Tom

and Ned underwent another demonstration of affection

as soon as those of Tal's immediate family and the

other natives understood what had happened.

"I hate this business!" complained Tom, after

having been knelt to by the Indian's wife and

child, who called him the "preserver" and other

endearing titles of the same kind. "Come on,

let's hike back."

But Indian hospitality, especially after a life

has been saved, is not so simple as all that.

"My life--my house--all that I own is yours,"

said Tal in deep gratitude. "Take everything,"

and he waved his hand to indicate all the possessions

in his humble hut.

"Thanks," answered Tom, "but I guess you

need all you have. That's a fine specimen of

blow gun though," he added, seeing one hanging

on the wall. "I wouldn't mind having one like

that. If you get well enough to make me one,

Tal, and some arrows to go with it, I'd like it

for a curiosity to hang in my room at home."

"The Senor shall have a dozen," promised the

Indian.

"Look, Ned," went on Tom, pointing to the

native weapon. "I never saw one just like this.

They use small arrows or darts, tipped with wild

cotton, instead of feathers."

"These the arrows," explained Tal's wife,

bringing a bundle from a corner of the one-room

hut. As she held them out her husband gave a

cry of fear.

"Poisoned arrows! Poisoned arrows!" he exclaimed.

"One scratch and the senors are dead men. Put them away!"

In fear the Indian wife prepared to obey, but

as she did so Tom Swift caught sight of the package

and uttered a strange cry.

"Thundering hoptoads, Ned!" he exclaimed.

"The poisoned arrows are wrapped in the piece of oiled

silk that was around the professor's missing map!"

CHAPTER XX

AN OLD LEGEND

Fascinated, Tom and Ned gazed at the package

the Indian woman held out to them. Undoubtedly

it was oiled silk on the outside, and through

the almost transparent covering could be seen

the small arrows, or darts, used in the blow gun.

"Where did you get that?" asked Tom, pointing

to the bundle and gazing sternly at Tal.

"What is the matter, Senor?" asked the Indian in turn.

"Is it that you are afraid of the poisoned arrows?

Be assured they will not harm you unless

you are scratched by them."

Tom and Ned found it difficult to comprehend

all the rapid Spanish spoken by their host, but

they managed to understand some, and his

eloquent gestures made up the rest.

"We're not afraid," Tom said, noting that the

oiled skin well covered the dangerous darts. "But

where did you get that?"

"I picked it up, after another Indian had thrown

it away. He got it in your camp, Senor. I

will not lie to you. I did not steal. Valdez

went to your camp to steal--he is a bad Indian--

and he brought back this wrapping. It contained

something he thought was gold, but it was

not, so he----"

"Quick! Yes! Tell us!" demanded Tom

eagerly. "What did he do with the professor's

map that was in the oiled silk? Where is it?"

"Oh, Senors!" exclaimed the Indian woman,

thinking perhaps her husband was about to be

dealt harshly with when she heard Tom's

excited voice. "Tal do no harm!"

"No, he did no harm," went on Tom, in a

reassuring tone. "But he can do a whole lot of good

if he tells us what became of the map that was in

this oiled silk. Where is it?" he asked again.

"Valdez burn it up," answered Tal.

"What, burned the professor's map?" cried Ned.

"If that was in this yellow cloth--yes,"

answered the injured man. "Valdez he is bad. He

say to me he is going to your camp to see what

he can take. How he got this I know not, but

he come back one morning with the yellow pack-

age. I see him, but he make me promise not

to tell. But you save my life I tell you everything.

"Valdez open the package; but it is not gold,

though he think so because it is yellow, and the

man with no hair on his head keep it in his pocket

close, so close," and Tal hugged himself to indicate

what he meant.

"That's Professor Bumper," explained Ned.

"How did Valdez get the map out of the

professor's coat?" asked Tom.

"Valdez he very much smart. When man

with no hair on his head take coat off for a

minute to eat breakfast Valdez take yellow thing

out of pocket."

"The Indian must have sneaked into camp

when we were eating," said Tom. "Those from

Beecher's party and our workers look all alike

to us. We wouldn't know one from the other,

and one of our rival's might slip in."

"One evidently did, if this is really the piece of

oiled silk that was around the professor's map,"

said Ned.

"It certainly is the same," declared the young

inventor. "See, there is his name," and he

stretched out his hand to point.

"Don't touch!" cried Tal. "Poisoned arrows

snake poison--very dead-like and quick."

"Don't worry, I won't touch," said Tom grimly.

"But go on. You say Valdez sneaked into our

camp, took the oiled-silk package from the coat

pocket of Professor Bumper and went back to

his own camp with it, thinking it was gold."

"Yes," answered Tal, though it is doubtful if

he understood all that Tom said, as it was half

Spanish and half English. But the Indian knew

a little English, too. "Valdez, when he find no

gold is very mad. Only papers in the yellow

silk-papers with queer marks on. Valdez think

it maybe a charm to work evil, so he burn them

up--all up!"

"Burned that rare map!" gasped Tom.

"All in fire," went on Tal, indicating by his

hands the play of flames. "Valdez throw away

yellow silk, and I take for my arrows so rain not

wash off poison. I give to you, if you like, with

blow gun."

"No, thank you," answered Tom, in disappointed

tones. "The oiled silk is of no use without

the map, and that's gone. Whew! but this is

tough!" he said to his chum. "As long as it was

only stolen there was a chance to get it back,

but if it's burned, the jig is up."

"It looks so," agreed Ned. "We'd better get

back and tell the professor. It he can't get along

without the map it's time he started a movement

toward getting another. So it wasn't Beecher,

after all, who got it."

"Evidently not," assented Tom. "But I

believe him capable of it."

"You haven't much use for him," remarked Ned.

"Huh!" was all the answer given by his chum.

"I am sorry, Senors," went on Tal, "but I

could not stop Valdez, and the burning of the

papers----"

"No, you could not help it," interrupted the

young inventor. "But it just happens that it

brings bad luck to us. You see, Tal, the papers

in this yellow covering, told of an old buried

city that the bald-headed professor--the-man-

with-no-hair-on-his-head--is very anxious to

discover. It is somewhere under the ground," and

he waved to the jungle all about them, pointing

earthwards.

"Paper Valdez burn tell of lost city?" asked

Tal, his face lighting up.

"Yes. But now, of course, we can't tell where

to dig for it."

The Indian turned to his wife and talked rapidly

with her in their own dialect. She, too, seemed

greatly excited, making quick gestures. Finally

she ran out of the hut.

"Where is she going?" asked Tom suspiciously.

"To get her grandfather. He very old Indian.

He know story of buried cities under trees. Very

old story--what you call legend, maybe. But

Goosal know. He tell same as his grandfather

told him. You wait. Goosal come, and you listen."

"Good, Ned!" suddenly cried Tom. "Maybe,

we'll get on the track of lost Kurzon after all,

through some ancient Indian legend. Maybe we

won't need the map!"

"It hardly seems possible," said Ned slowly.

"What can these Indians know of buried cities

that were out of existence before Columbus came

here? Why, they haven't any written history."

"No, and that may be just the reason they are

more likely to be right," returned Tom. "Legends

handed down from one grandfather to another

go back a good many hundred years. If

they were written they might be destroyed as

the professor's map was. Somehow or other,

though I can't tell why, I begin to see daylight

ahead of us."

"I wish I did," remarked Ned.

"Here comes Goosal I think," murmured Tom,

and he pointed to an Indian, bent with the weight

of years, who, led by Tal's wife, was slowly

approaching the hut.

CHAPTER XXI

THE CAVERN

"Now Goosal can tell you," said Tal, evidently

pleased that he had, in a measure, solved the

problem caused by the burning of the professor's

map. "Goosal very old Indian. He know old

stories--legends--very old."

"Well, if he can tell us how to find the buried

city of Kurzon and the--the things in it," said

Tom, "he's all right!"

The aged Indian proceeded slowly toward the

hut where the impatient youths awaited him.

"I know what you seek in the buried city,"

remarked Tal.

"Do you?" cried Tom, wondering if some one

had indiscreetly spoken of the idol of gold.

"Yes you want pieces of rock, with strange

writings on them, old weapons, broken pots.

I know. I have helped white men before."

"Yes, those are the things we want," agreed

Tom, with a glance at his chum. "That is--some

of them. But does your wife's grandfather talk

our language?"

"No, but I can tell you what he says."

By this time the old man, led by "Mrs. Tal"--

as the young men called the wife of the Indian

they had helped--entered the hut. He seemed

nervous and shy, and glanced from Tom and Ned

to his grandson-in-law, as the latter talked rapidly

in the Indian dialect. Then Goosal made answer,

but what it was all about the boys could

not tell.

"Goosal say," translated Tal, "that he know a

story of a very old city away down under ground."

"Tell us about it!" urged Tom eagerly.

But a difficulty very soon developed. Tal's

intentions were good, but he was not equal to

the task of translating. Nor was the understanding

of Tom and Ned of Spanish quite up to the mark.

"Say, this is too much for me!" exclaimed Tom.

"We are losing the most valuable part of this by

not understanding what Goosal says, and what

Tal translates."

"What can we do?" asked Ned.

"Get the professor here as soon as possible.

He can manage this dialect, and he'll get the

information at first hand. If Goosal can tell

where to begin excavating for the city he ought

to tell the professor, not us."

"That's right," agreed Ned. "We'll bring the

professor here as soon as we can."

Accordingly they stopped the somewhat difficult

task of listening to the translated story and

told Tal, as well as they could, that they would

bring the "man-with-no-hair-on-his-head" to

listen to the tale.

This seemed to suit the Indians, all of whom

in the small colony appeared to be very grateful

to Tom and Ned for having saved the life of

Tal.

"That was a good shot you made when you

bowled over the jaguar," said Ned, as the two

young explorers started back to their camp.

"Better than I realized, if it leads to the discovery

of Kurzon and the idol of gold," remarked Tom.

"And to think we should come across the oiled-

silk holding the poisoned arrows!" went on Ned.

"That's the strangest part of the whole affair.

If it hadn't been that you shot the jaguar this

never would have come about."

That Professor Bumper was astonished, and

Mr. Damon likewise, when they heard the story

of Tom and Ned, is stating it mildly.

"Come on!" exclaimed the scientist, as Tom

finished, "we must see this Goosal at once.

If my map is destroyed, and it seems to be,

this old Indian may be our only hope.

Where did he say the buried city was, Tom?"

"Oh, somewhere in this vicinity, as nearly as

I could make out. But you'd better talk with

him yourself. We didn't say anything about the

idol of gold."

"That's right. It's just as well to let the

natives think we are only after ordinary relics."

"Bless my insurance policy!" gasped Mr. Damon.

"It does not seem possible that we are on

the right track."

"Well, I think we are, from what little information

Goosal gave us," remarked Tom. "This buried city

of his must be a wonderful place."

"It is, if it is what I take it to be," agreed the

professor. "I told you I would bring you to a

land of wonders, Tom Swift, and they have hardly

begun yet. Come, I am anxious to talk to Goosal."

In order that the Indians in the Bumper camp

might not hear rumors of the new plan to locate

the hidden city, and, at the same time, to keep

rumors from spreading to the camp of the rivals,

the scientist and his friends started a new shaft,

and put a shift of men at work on it.

"We'll pretend we are on the right track, and

very busy," said Tom. "That will fool Beecher."

"Are you glad to know he did not take your

map Professor Bumper?" asked Mr. Damon.

"Well, yes. It is hard to believe such things of

a fellow scientist."

"If he didn't take it he wanted to," said Tom.

"And he has done, or will do, things as unsportsmanlike."

"Oh, you are hardly fair, perhaps, Tom,"

commented Ned.

"Um!" was all the answer he received.

With the Indians in camp busy on the excavation

work, and having ascertained that similar

work was going on in the Beecher outfit,

Professor Bumper, with Mr. Damon and the young

men, set off to visit the Indian village and listen

to Goosal's story. They passed the place where

Tom had slain the jaguar, but nothing was left

but the bones; the ants, vultures and jungle animals

having picked them clean in the night.

On the arrival of Tom and his friends at the

Indian's hut, Goosal told, in language which

Professor Bumper could understand, the ancient

legend of the buried city as he had had it from his

grandfather.

"But is that all you know about it, Goosal?"

asked the savant.

"No, Learned One. It is true most of what I

have told you was told to me by my father and

his father's father. But I--I myself--with these

eyes, have looked upon the lost city."

"You have!" cried the professor, this time in

English. "Where? When? Take us to it!

How do you get here?"

"Through the cavern of the dead," was the

answer when the questions were modified.

"Bless my diamond ring!" exclaimed Mr.

Damon, when Professor Bumper translated the reply.

"What does he mean?"

And then, after some talk, this information

came out. Years before, when Goosal was a

young man, he had been taken by his grandfather

on a journey through the jungle. They

stopped one day at the foot of a high mountain,

and, clearing away the brush and stones at a

certain place, an entrance to a great cavern was

revealed. This, it appeared, was the Indian burial

ground, and had been used for generations.

Goosal, though in fear and trembling, was lead

through it, and came to another cavern, vaster

than the first. And there he saw strange and

wonderful sights, for it was the remains of a buried

city, that had once been the home of a great

and powerful tribe unlike the Indians--the ancient

Mayas it would seem.

"Can you take us to this cavern?" asked the professor.

"Yes," answered Goosal. "I will lead to it

those who saved the life of Tal--them and their

friends. I will take you to the lost city!"

"Good!" cried Mr. Damon, when this had been

translated. "Now let Beecher try to play any

more tricks on us! Ho! for the cavern and the

lost city of Kurzon."

"And the idol of gold," said Tom Swift to

himself. "I hope we can get it ahead of Beecher.

Perhaps if I can help in that--Oh, well, here's hoping,

that's all!" and a little smile curved his lips.

Greatly excited by the strange news, but

maintaining as calm an air outwardly as possible, so

as not to excite the Indians, Tom and his friends

returned to camp to prepare for their trip. Goosal

had said the cavern lay distant more than a two-

days' journey into the jungle.

CHAPTER XXII

THE STORM

"Now," remarked Tom, once they were back

again in their camp, "we must go about this trip

to the cavern in a way that will cause no suspicion

over there as to what our object is," and he

nodded in the direction of the quarters of his

rival.

"Do you mean to go off quietly?" asked Ned.

"Yes. And to keep the work going on here,

at these shafts," put in the scientist, "so that

if any of their spies happen to come here they

will think we still believe the buried city to be

just below us. To that end we must keep the

Indians digging, though I am convinced now that

it is useless."

Accordingly preparations were made for an

expedition into the jungle under the leadership of

Goosal. Tal had not sufficiently recovered from

the jaguar wounds to go with the party, but the

old man, in spite of his years, was hale and hearty

and capable of withstanding hardships.

One of the most intelligent of the Indians was

put in charge of the digging gangs as foreman,

and told to keep them at work, and not to let

them stray. Tolpec, whose brother Tom had

tried to save, proved a treasure. He agreed to

remain behind and look after the interests of his

friends, and see that none of their baggage or

stores were taken.

"Well, I guess we're as ready as we ever

shall be," remarked Tom, as the cavalcade made

ready to start. Mules carried the supplies that

were to be taken into the jungle, and others of

the sturdy animals were to be ridden by the

travelers. The trail was not an easy one, Goosal

warned them.

Tom and his friends found it even worse than

they had expected, for all their experience in

jungle and mountain traveling. In places it was

necessary to dismount and lead the mules along,

sometimes pushing and dragging them. More

than once the trail fairly hung on the edge of

some almost bottomless gorge, and again it

wound its way between great walls of rock,

so poised that they appeared about to topple

over and crush the travelers. But they kept on

with dogged patience, through many hardships.

To add to their troubles they seemed to have

entered the abode of the fiercest mosquitoes

encountered since coming to Honduras. At times

it was necessary to ride along with hats covered

with mosquito netting, and hands encased in

gloves.

They had taken plenty of condensed food with

them, and they did not suffer in this respect.

Game, too, was plentiful and the electric rifles of

Tom and Ned added to the larder.

One night, after a somewhat sound sleep

induced by hard travel on the trail that day, Tom

awoke to hear some one or something moving

about among their goods, which included their

provisions.

"Who's there?" asked the young inventor

sharply, as he reached for his electric rifle.

There was no answer, but a rattling of the pans.

"Speak, or I'll fire!" Tom warned, adding this

in such Spanish as he could muster, for he thought

it might be one of the Indians. No reply came,

and then, seeing by the light of the stars a dark

form moving in front of the tent occupied by

himself and Ned, Tom fired.

There was a combined grunt and squeal of

pain, then a savage growl, and Ned yelled:

"What's the matter, Tom?" for he had been

awakened, and heard the crackle of the electrical

discharge.

"I don't know," Tom answered. "But I shot

something--or somebody!"

"Maybe some of Beecher's crowd," ventured

his chum. But when they got their electric

torches, and focused them on the inert, black

object, it was found to be a bear which had come

to nose about the camp for dainty morsels.

Bruin was quite dead, and as he was in prime

condition there was a feast of bear meat at the

following dinner. The white travelers found it

rather too strong for their palates, but the Indians

reveled in it.

It was shortly after noon the next day, when

Goosal, after remarking that a storm seemed

brewing, announced that they would be at the

entrance to the cavern in another hour.

"Good!" cried Professor Bumper. "At last

we are near the buried city."

"Don't be too sure," advised Mr. Damon,

"We may be disappointed. Though I hope not

for your sake, my dear Professor."

Goosal now took the lead, and the old Indian,

traveling on foot, for he said he could better look

for the old landmark that way than on the back

of a mule, walked slowly along a rough cliff.

"Here. somewhere, is the entrance to the cav-

ern," said the aged man. "It was many years

ago that I was here--many years. But it seems

as though yesterday. It is little changed."

Indeed little did change in that land of wonders.

Only nature caused what alterations there were.

The hand of man had long been absent.

Slowly Goosal walked along the rocky trail,

on one side a sheer rock, towering a hundred feet

or more toward the sky. On the other side a

deep gash leading to a great fertile valley below.

Suddenly the old man paused, and looked about

him as though uncertain. Then, more slowly

still, he put out his hand and pulled at some

bushes that grew on a ledge of the rock. They

came away, having no depth of earth, and a small

opening was disclosed.

"It is here," said Goosal quietly. "The

entrance to the cavern that leads to the burial

place of the dead, and the city that is dead also.

It is here."

He stood aside while the others hurried

forward. It took but a few minutes to prove that

he was right--at least as to the existence of the

cavern--for the four men were soon peering into

the opening.

"Come on!" cried Tom, impetuously.

"Wait a moment," suggested the professor,

"Sometimes the air in these places is foul. We

must test it." But a torch one of the Indians

threw in burned with a steady glow. That test

was conclusive at least. They made ready to enter.

Torches of a light bark, that glowed with a

steady flame and little smoke, had been provided,

as well as a good supply of electric dry-battery

lamps, and the way into the cavern was thus well

lighted. At first the Indians were afraid to

enter, but a word or two from Goosal reassured

them, and they followed Professor Bumper, Tom,

and the others into the cavern.

For several hundred feet there was nothing

remarkable about the cave. It was like any

other cavern of the mountains, though wonderful

for the number of crystal formations on the root

and walls--formations that sparkled like a million

diamonds in the flickering lights.

"Talk about a wonderland!" cried Tom.

"This is fairyland!"

A moment later, as Goosal walked on beside

the professor and Tom, the aged Indian came to

a pause, and, pointing ahead, murmured:

"The city of the dead!"

They saw the niches cut in the rock walls.

niches that held the countless bones of those who

had died many, many years before. It was a

vast Indian grave.

"Doubtless a wealth of material of historic

interest here," said Professor Bumper, flashing

his torch on the skeletons. "But it will keep.

Where is the city you spoke of, Goosal?"

"Farther on, Senor. Follow me."

Past the stone graves they went, deeper and

deeper into the great cave. Their footsteps

echoed and re-echoed. Suddenly Tom, who with

Ned had gone a little ahead, came to a sudden

halt and said:

"Well, this may be a burial place sure enough,

but I think I see something alive all right--if

it isn't a ghost."

He pointed ahead. Surely those were lights

flickering and moving about, and, yes, there were

men carrying them. The Bumper party came to

a surprised halt. The other lights advanced,

and then, to the great astonishment of Professor

Bumper and his friends, there confronted them

in the cave several scientists of Professor Beecher's

party and a score or more of Indians. Professor

Hylop, who was known to Professor Bumper,

stepped forward and asked sharply:

"What are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same thing," was the

retort.

"You might, but you would not be answered,"

came sharply. "We have a right here, having

discovered this cavern, and we claim it under a

concession of the Honduras Government. I shall

have to ask you to withdraw."

"Do you mean leave here?" asked Mr Damon.

"That is it, exactly. We first discovered this

cave. We have been conducting explorations in

it for several days, and we wish no outsiders."

"Are you speaking for Professor Beecher"' asked Tom.

"I am. But he is here in the cave, and will

speak for himself if you desire it. But I represent

him, and I order you to leave. If you do

not go peaceably we will use force. We have

plenty of it," and he glanced back at the Indians

grouped behind him--scowling savage Indians.

"We have no wish to intrude," observed

Professor Bumper, "and I fully recognize the right

of prior discovery. But one member of our

party (he did not say which one) was in this

cave many years ago. He led us to it."

"Ours is a government concession!" exclaimed

Professor Hylop harshly. "We want no intruders!

Go!" and he pointed toward the direction

whence Tom's party had come.

"Drive them out!" he ordered the Indians in

Spanish, and with muttered threats the dark-

skinned men advanced toward Tom and the

others.

"You need not use force," said Professor Bumper.

He and Professor Hylop had quarreled bitterly

years before on some scientific matter, and the

matter was afterward found to be wrong. Perhaps

this made him vindictive.

Tom stepped forward and started to protest,

but Professor Bumper interposed.

"I guess there is no help for it but to go. It

seems to be theirs by right of discovery and

government concession," he said, in disappointed

tone. "Come friends"; and dejectedly they

retraced their steps.

Followed by the threatening Indians, the

Bumper party made its way back to the entrance.

They had hoped for great things, but if the cavern

gave access to the buried city--the ancient

city of Kurzon on the chief altar of which stood

the golden idol, Quitzel--it looked as though

they were never to enter it.

"We'll have to get our Indians and drive those

fellows out!" declared Tom. "I'm not going to

be beaten this way--and by Beecher!"

"It is galling," declared Professor Bumper.

"Still he has right on his side, and I must give

in to priority, as I would expect him to. It is

the unwritten law."

"Then we've failed!" cried Tom bitterly.

"Not yet," said Professor Bumper. "If I can

not unearth that buried city I may find another

in this wonderland. I shall not give up."

"Hark! What's that noise?" asked Tom, as

they approached the entrance to the cave.

"Sounds like a great wind blowing," commented Ned.

It was. As they stood in the entrance they

looked out to find a fierce storm raging. The

wind was sweeping down the rocky trail, the

rain was falling in veritable bucketfuls from the

overhanging cliff, and deafening thunder and

blinding lightning roared and flashed.

"Surely you would not drive us out in this

storm," said Professor Bumper to his former

rival.

"You can not stay in the cave! You must get

out!" was the answer, as a louder crash of thunder

than usual seemed to shake the very mountain.

CHAPTER XXIII

ENTOMBED ALIVE

For an instant Tom and his friends paused at

the entrance to the wonderful cavern, and looked

at the raging storm. It seemed madness to

venture out into it, yet they had been driven

from the cave by those who had every right of

discovery to say who, and who should not, partake

of its hospitality.

"We can't go out into that blow!" cried Ned.

"It's enough to loosen the very mountains!"

"Let's stay here and defy them!" murmured Tom.

"If the--if what we seek--is here we have

as good a right to it as they have."

"We must go out," said Professor Bumper simply.

"I recognize the right of my rival to dispossess us."

"He may have the right, but it isn't human,"

said Mr. Damon. "Bless my overshoes! If

Beecher himself were here he wouldn't have the

heart to send us out in this storm."

"I would not give him the satisfaction of

appealing to him," remarked Professor Bumper.

"Come, we will go out. We have our ponchos,

and we are not fair-weather explorers. If we

can't get to the lost city one way we will

another. Come my friends."

And despite the downpour, the deafening

thunder and the lightning that seemed ready to sear

one's eyes, he walked out of the cave entrance,

followed by Tom and the others.

"Come on!" cried Tom, in a voice he tried to

render confident, as they went out into the

terrible storm. "We'll beat 'em yet!"

The rain fell harder than ever. Small torrents

were now rushing down the trail, and it was only

a question of a few minutes before the place

where they stood would be a raging river, so

quickly does the rain collect in the mountains and

speed toward the valleys.

"We must take to the forest!" cried Tom.

"There'll be some shelter there, and I don't like

the way the geography of this place is behaving.

There may be a landslide at any moment."

As he spoke he motioned upward through the

mist of the rain to the sloping side of the mountain

towering above them. Loose stones were

beginning to roll down, accompanied by patches

of earth loosened by the water. Some of the

patches carried with them bunches of grass and

small bushes.

"Yes, it will be best to move into the jungle,"

said the professor. "Goosal, you had better take

the lead."

It was wonderful to see how well the aged Indian

bore up in spite of his years, and walked on

ahead. They had left their mules tethered some

distance back, in a sheltering clump of trees, and

they hoped the animals would be safe.

The guide found a place where they could

leave the trail, though going down a dangerous

slope, and take to the forest. As carefully as

possible they descended this, the rain continuing to

fall, the wind to blow, the lightning to sizzle all

about them and the thunder to boom in their ears.

They went on until they were beneath the

shelter of the thick jungle growth of trees, which

kept off some of the pelting drops.

"This is better!" exclaimed Ned, shaking his

poncho and getting rid of some of the water that

had settled on it.

"Bless my overcoat!" cried Mr. Damon. "We seem

to have gotten out of the frying pan into the fire!"

"How?" asked Tom. "We are partly sheltered here,

though had we stayed in the cave in spite of----"

A deafening crash interrupted him, and following

the flash one of the giant trees of the forest

was seen to blaze up and then topple over.

"Struck by lightning!" yelled Ned.

"Yes; and it may happen to us!" exclaimed

Mr. Damon. "We were safer from the lightning

in the open. Maybe----"

Again came an interruption, but this time a

different one. The very ground beneath their feet

seemed to be shaking and trembling.

"What is it?" gasped Ned, while Goosal fell on

his knees and began fervently to pray.

"It's an earthquake!" yelled Tom Swift.

As he spoke there came another sound--the

sound of a mass of earth in motion. It came

from the direction of the mountain trail they had

just left. They looked toward it and their horror-

stricken eyes saw the whole side of the

mountain sliding down.

Slowly at first the earth slid down, but

constantly gathering force and speed. In the face

of this new disaster the rain seemed to have

ceased and the thunder and lightning to be less

severe. It was as though one force of nature

gave way to the other.

"Look! Look!" gasped Ned.

In silence, which was broken now only by a

low and ominous rumble, more menacing than

had been the awful fury of the elements, the

travelers looked.

Suddenly there was a quicker movement of

seemingly one whole section of the mountain.

Great rocks and trees, carried down by the

appalling force of the landslide were slipping over

the trail, obliterating it as though it had never existed.

"There goes the entrance to the cavern!" cried Ned,

and as the others looked to where he pointed

they saw the hole in the side of the mountain

--the mouth of the cave that led to the lost city

of Kurzon--completely covered by thousands of

tons of earth and stones.

"That's the end of them!" exclaimed Tom, as

the rumble of the earthquake died away.

"Of----" Ned stopped, his eyes staring.

"Of Professor Beecher's party. They're

entombed alive!"

CHAPTER XXIV

THE REVOLVING STONE

Stunned, not alone by the realization of the

awfulness of the fate of their rivals, but also by

the terrific storm and the effect of the earthquake

and the landslide, Tom and his friends remained

for a moment gazing toward the mouth of the

cavern, now completely out of sight, buried by

a mass of broken trees, tangled bushes, rocks and

earth. Somewhere, far beyond that mass, was

the Beecher party, held prisoners in the cave

that formed the entrance to the buried city.

Tom was the first to come to a realization of

what was needed to be done.

"We must help them!" he exclaimed, and it was

characteristic of him that he harbored no enmity.

"How?" asked Ned.

"We must get a force of Indians and dig them

out," was the prompt answer.

At Tom's vigorous words Professor Bumper's

forces were energized into action, and he stated:

"Fortunately we have plenty of excavating

tools. We may be in time to save them. Come

on! the storm seems to have passed as suddenly

as it came up, and the earthquake, which, after

all did not cover a wide area, seems to be over.

We must start the work of rescue at once. We

must go back to camp and get all the help we

can muster."

The storm, indeed, seemed to be over, but it

was no easy matter to get back over the soggy,

rain-soaked ground to the trail they had left to

take shelter in the forest. Fortunately the earthquake

had not involved that portion where they

had left their mules, but most of the frightened

animals had broken loose, and it was some little

time before they could all be caught.

"It is no use to try to get back to camp to-

night," said Tom, when the last of the pack and

saddle animals had been corralled. "It is getting

late and there is no telling the condition of the

trail. We must stay here until morning."

"But what about them?" and Mr. Damon

nodded in the direction of the entombed ones.

"We can help them best by waiting until the

beginning of a new day," said the professor. "We

shall need a large force, and we could not bring

it up to-night. Besides, Tom is right, and if we

tried to go along the trail after dark, torn and

disturbed as it is bound to be by the rain, we

might get into difficulties ourselves. No, we

must camp here until morning and then go for

help."

They all decided finally this was best. The

professor, too, pointed out that their rivals were

in a large and roomy cave, not likely to suffer

from lack of air nor food or water, since they

must have supplies with them.

"The only danger is that the cave has been

crushed in," added Tom; "but in that event we

would be of no service to them anyhow."

The night seemed very long, and it was a most

uncomfortable one, because of the shock and

exertions through which the party had passed.

Added to this was the physical discomfort caused

by the storm.

But in time there was the light in the east that

meant morning was at hand, and with it came

action. A hasty breakfast, cups of steaming coffee

forming a most welcome part, put them all

in better condition, and once more they were on

their way, heading back to the main camp where

they had left their force of Indians.

"My!" exclaimed Tom, as they made their

way slowly along, "it surely was some storm!

Look at those big trees uprooted over there.

They're almost as big as the giant redwoods of

California, and yet they were bowled over as if

they were tenpins."

"I wonder if the wind did it or the earthquake,"

ventured Mr. Damon.

"No wind could do that," declared Ned. "It must

have been the landslide caused by the earthquake."

"The wind could do it if the ground was made

soft by the rain; and that was probably what

did it," suggested Tom.

"There is no harm in settling the point,"

commented Professor Bumper. "It is not far off our

trail, and will take only a few minutes to go

over to the trees. I should like to get some

photographs to accompany an article that perhaps

I shall write on the effects of sudden and

severe tropical storms. We will go to look at

the overturned trees and then we'll hurry on to

camp to get the rescue party."

The uprooted trees lay on one side of the

mountain trail, perhaps a mile from the mouth of

the cave which had been covered over, entombing

the Beecher party. Leaving the mules in

charge of one of the Indians, Professor Bumper

and his friends, accompanied by Goosal, approached

the fallen trees. As they neared them

they saw that in falling the trees had lifted with

their roots a large mass of earth and imbedded

rocks that had clung to the twisted and gnarled

fibers. This mass was as large as a house.

"Look at the hole left when the roots pulled

out!" cried Ned. "Why, it's like the crater of

a small volcano!" he added. And, as they stood

on the edge of it looking curiously at the hole

made, the others agreed with Tom's chum.

Professor Bumper was looking about, trying

to ascertain if there were any evidences of the

earthquake in the vicinity, when Tom, who had

cautiously gone a little way down into the excavation

caused by the fallen trees, uttered a cry of surprise.

"Look!" he shouted. "Isn't that some sort of

tunnel or underground passage?" and he pointed

to a square opening, perhaps seven feet high and

nearly as broad, which extended, no one knew

where, downward and onward from the side of

the hole made by the uprooting of the trees.

"It's an underground passage all right," said

Professor Bumper eagerly; "and not a natural

one, either. That was fashioned by the hand

of man, if I am any judge. It seems to go right

under the mountain, too. Friends, we must

explore this! It may be of the utmost importance!

Come, we have our electric torches, and we shall

need them, for it's very dark in there," and he

peered into the passage in front of which they

all stood now. It seemed to have been tunneled

through the earth, the sides being lined by either

slabs of stone, or walls made by a sort of concrete.

"But what about the rescue work?" asked Mr. Damon.

"I am not forgetting Professor Beecher and his

friends," answered the scientist.

"Perhaps this may be a better means of rescuing

them than by digging them out, which will take

a week at least," observed Tom.

"This a better way?" asked Ned, pointing to the tunnel.

"That's it," confirmed the savant. "If you

will notice it extends back in the direction

of the cave from which we were driven.

Now if there is a buried city beneath all this

jungle, this mountain of earth and stones, the

accumulation of centuries, it is probably on the

bottom of some vast cavern. It is my opinion

that we were only in one end of that cavern, and

this may be the entrance to another end of it."

"Then," asked Mr. Damon, "do you mean that

we can enter here, get into the cave that contains

the buried city, or part of it, and find there

Beecher and his friends?"

"That's it. It is possible, and if we could it

would save an immense lot of work, and probably

be a surer way to save their lives than by

digging a tunnel through the landslide to find

the mouth of the cave where we first entered."

"It's a chance worth taking," said Mr. Damon.

"Of course it is a chance. But then everything

connected with this expedition is; so one is no

worse than another. As you say, we may find

the entombed men more easily this way than any

other."

"I wonder," said Tom slowly, "if, by any

chance, we shall find, through this passage, the

lost city we are looking for."

"And the idol of gold," added Ned.

"Goosal, do you know anything about this?"

asked Professor Bumper. "Did you ever hear

of another passage leading to the cave where you

saw the ancient city?"

"No, Learned One, though I have heard stories

about there being many cities, or parts of a big

one, beneath the mountain, and when it was

above ground there were many entrances to it."

"That settles it!" cried the professor in

English, having talked to Goosal in Spanish.

"We'll try this and see where it leads."

They entered the stone-lined passage. In

spite of the fact that it had probably been buried

and concealed from light and air for centuries,

as evidenced by the growth of the giant trees

above it, the air was fresh.

"And this is one reason," said Tom, in

commenting on this fact, "why I believe it leads to

some vast cavern which is connected in some

fashion with the outer air. Well, perhaps we

shall soon make a discovery."

Eagerly and anxiously the little party pressed

forward by the light of the pocket electric lamps.

They were obsessed by two thoughts--what they

might find and the necessity for aiding in the

rescue of their rivals.

On and on they went, the darkness illuminated

only by the torches they carried. But they

noticed that the air was still fresh, and that a

gentle wind blew toward them. The passage

was undoubtedly artificial, a tunnel made by the

hands of men now long crumbled into dust. It

had a slightly upward slope, and this, Professor

Bumper said, indicated that it was bored upward

and perhaps into the very heart of the mountain

somewhere in the interior of which was the

Beecher party.

Just how far they went they did not know, but

it must have been more than two miles. Yet

they did not tire, for the way was smooth.

Suddenly Tom, who, with Professor Bumper,

was in the lead, uttered a cry, as he held his

torch above his head and flashed it about in a

circle.

"We're blocked!" he exclaimed. "We're up

against a stone wall!"

It was but too true. Confronting them, and

extending from side to side across the passage

and from roof to floor, was a great rough stone.

Immense and solid it seemed when they pushed

on it in vain.

"Nothing short of dynamite will move that,"

said Ned in despair. "This is a blind lead.

We'll have to go back."

"But there must be something on the other

side of that stone," cried Tom. "See, it is pierced

with holes, and through them comes a current of

air. If we could only move the stone!"

"I believe it is an ancient door," remarked

Professor Bumper.

Eagerly and frantically they tried to move it

by their combined weight. The stone did not

give the fraction of the breadth of a hair.

"We'll have to go back and get some of your

big tunnel blasting powder, Tom," suggested Ned.

As he spoke old Goosal glided forward. He

had remained behind them in the passage while

they were trying to move the rock. Now he

said something in Spanish.

"What does he mean?" asked Ned.

"He asks that he be allowed to try," translated

Professor Bumper. "Sometimes, he says, there

is a secret way of opening stone doors in these

underground caves. Let him try."

Goosal seemed to be running his fingers lightly

over the outer edge of the door. He was muttering

to himself in his Indian tongue.

Suddenly he uttered an exclamation, and, as

he did so, there was a noise from the door itself.

It was a grinding, scraping sound, a rumble as

though rocks were being rolled one against the

other.

Then the astonished eyes of the adventurers

saw the great stone door revolve on its axis

and swing to one side, leaving a passage open

through which they could pass. Goosal had

discovered the hidden mechanism.

What lay before them?

CHAPTER XXV

THE IDOL OF GOLD

"Forward! cried Tom Swift.

"Where?" asked Mr Damon, hanging back for

an instant. "Bless my compass, Tom! do you

know where you're going?"

"I haven't the least idea, but it must lead to

something, or the ancients who made this

revolving stone door wouldn't have taken such care

to block the passage."

"Ask Goosal if he knows anything about it,"

suggested Mr. Damon to the professor.

"He says he never was here before," translated

the savant, "but years ago, when he went into

the hidden city by the cave we left yesterday, he

saw doors like this which opened this way."

"Then we're on the right track!" cried Tom.

"If this is the same kind of door, it must lead

to the same place. Ho for Kurzon and the idol

of gold!"

As they passed through the stone door, Tom

and Professor Bumper tried to get some idea of

the mechanism by which it worked. But they

found this impossible, it being hidden within the

stone itself or in the adjoining walls. But, in

order that it might not close of itself and entomb

them, the portal was blocked open with stones

found in the passage.

"It's always well to have a line of retreat open,"

said Tom. "There's no telling what may lie beyond us."

For a time there seemed to be nothing more

than the same passage along which they had

come. Then the passage suddenly widened, like

the large end of a square funnel. Upward and

outward the stone walls swept, and they saw

dimly before them, in the light of their torches,

a vast cavern, seemingly formed by the falling

in of mountains, which, in toppling over, had met

overhead in a sort of rough arch, thus protecting,

in a great measure, that which lay beneath

them.

Goosal, who had brought with him some of

the fiber bark torches, set a bundle of them

aflame. As they flared up, a wondrous sight

was revealed to Tom Swift and his friends.

Stretching out before them, as though they

stood at the end of an elevated street and gazed

down on it, was a city--a large city, with streets,

houses, open squares, temples, statues, fountains,

dry for centuries--a buried and forgotten city--

a city in ruins--a city of the dead, now dry as

dust, but still a city, or, rather, the strangely

preserved remains of one.

"Look!" whispered Tom. A louder voice just then,

would have seemed a sacrilege. "Look!"

"Is it what we are looking for?" asked Ned in a low voice.

"I believe it is," replied the professor. "It is

the lost city of Kurzon, or one just like it. And

now if we can find the idol of gold our search will

be ended--at least the major part of it."

"Where did you expect to find the idol?" asked Tom.

"It should be in the main temple. Come, we

will walk in the ancient streets--streets where

no feet but ours have trod in many centuries.

Come!"

In eager silence they pressed on through this

newly discovered wonderland. For it was a

wonderful city, or had been. Though much of

it was in ruins, probably caused by an earthquake

or an eruption from a volcano, the central

portion, covered as it was by the overtoppling

mountains that formed the arching roof, was well

preserved.

There were rude but beautiful stone buildings.

There were archways; temples; public squares;

and images, not at all beautiful, for they seemed

to be of man-monsters--doubtless ancient gods.

There were smoothly paved streets; wondrously

carved fountains, some in ruins, all now as dry

as bone, but which must have been places of

beauty where youths and maidens gathered in

the ancient days.

Of the ancient population there was not a

trace left. Tom and his friends penetrated some

of the houses, but not so much as a bone or a

heap of mouldering dust showed where the

remains of the people were. Either they had fled

at the approaching doom of the city and were

buried elsewhere, or some strange fire or other

force of nature had consumed and obliterated

them.

"What a wealth of historic information I shall

find here!" murmured Professor Bumper, as he

caught sight of many inscriptions in strange

characters on the walls and buildings.

"I shall never get to the end of them."

"But what about the idol of gold?" asked Mr.

Damon, "Do you think you'll find that?"

"We must hurry on to the temple over there,"

said the scientist, indicating a building further along.

"And then we must see about rescuing your

rivals, Professor," put in Tom.

"Yes, Tom. But fortunately we are on the

ground here before them," agreed the professor.

Undoubtedly it was the chief temple, or place

of worship, of the long-dead race which the

explorers now entered. It was a building beautiful

in its barbaric style, and yet simple. There were

massive walls, and a great inner court, at the end

of which seemed to be some sort of altar. And

then, as they lighted fresh torches, and pressed

forward with them and their electric lights, they

saw that which caused a cry of satisfaction to

burst from all of them.

"The idol of gold!"

Yes, there it squatted, an ugly, misshapen,

figure, a cross between a toad and a gila monster,

half man, half beast, with big red eyes--rubies

probably--that gleamed in the repulsive golden

face. And the whole figure, weighing many

pounds, seemed to be of SOLID GOLD!

Eagerly the others followed Professor Bumper

up the altar steps to the very throne of the golden

idol. The scientist touched it, tried to raise it

and make sure of its solidity and material.

"This is it!" he cried. "It is the idol of gold!

I have found We have found it, for it

belongs to all of us!"

"Hurray!" cried Tom Swift, and Ned and Mr.

Damon joined in the cry.

There was no need for silence or caution now;

and yet, as they stood about the squat and ugly

figure, which, in spite of its hideousness, was

worth a fortune intrinsically and as an antique,

they heard from the direction of the stone passage

a noise.

"What is it?" asked Tom Swift.

There was a murmur of voices.

"Indians!" cried Professor Bumper, recognizing

the language--a mixture of Spanish and Indian.

The cave was illuminated by the glare of other

torches which seemed to rush forward. A moment

later it was seen that they were being carried

by a number of Indians.

"Friends," murmured Goosal, using the

Spanish term, "Amigos."

"They are our own Indians!" cried Tom Swift.

"I see Tolpec!" and he pointed to the native who

had deserted from Jacinto's force to help them.

"How did they get here?" asked Professor Bumper.

This was quickly told. In their camp, where,

under the leadership of Tolpec they had been

left to do the excavating, the natives had heard,

seen and felt the effects of the storm and the

earthquake, though it did little damage in their

vicinity. But they became alarmed for the safety

of the professor and his party and, at Tolpec's

suggestion, set off in search of them.

The Indians had seen, passing along the trail,

the uprooted trees, and had noted the footsteps

of the explorers going down to the stone passage.

It was easy for them to determine that Tom

and his friends had gone in, since the marks of

their boots were plainly in evidence in the soft

soil.

None of the Indians was as much wrought up

over the discovery of Kurzon and the idol as

were the white adventurers. The gold, of course,

meant something to the natives, but they were

indifferent to the wonders of the underground

city. Perhaps they had heard too many legends

concerning such things to be impressed.

"That statue is yours--all yours," said old

Goosal when he had talked with his relatives and

friends among the natives. "They all say what

you find you keep, and we will help you keep it."

"That's good," murmured Professor Bumper.

"There was some doubt in my mind as to our

right to this, but after all, the natives who live

in this land are the original owners, and if they

pass title to us it is clear. That settles the last

difficulty."

"Except that of getting the idol out," said Mr. Damon.

"Oh, we'll accomplish that!" cried Tom.

"I can hardly believe my good luck," declared

Professor Bumper. "I shall write a whole book

on this idol alone and then----"

Once more came an interruption. This time

it was from another direction, but it was of the

same character--an approaching band of torch-

bearers. They were Indians, too, but leading

them were a number of whites.

And at their head was no less personage than

Professor Beecher himself.

For a moment, as the three parties stood

together in the ancient temple, in the glare of

many torches, no one spoke. Then Professor

Bumper found his voice.

"We are glad to see you," he said to his rival.

"That is glad to see you alive, for we saw the

landslide bury you. And we were coming to

dig you out. We thought this cave--the cave of

the buried city--would lead us to you easier than

by digging through the slide. We have just

discovered this idol," and he put his hand on the

grim golden image.

"Oh, you have discovered it, have you?" asked

Professor Beecher, and his voice was bitter.

"Yes, not ten minutes ago. The natives have

kindly acknowledged my right to it under the law

of priority. I am sorry but----"

With a look of disgust and chagrined

disappointment on his face, Professor Beecher turned

to the other scientists and said:

"Let us go. We are too late. He has what

I came after."

"Well, it is the fortune of war--and discovery,"

put in Mr. Hardy, one of the party who seemed

the least ill-natured. "Your luck might have

been ours, Professor Bumper. I congratulate

you."

"Thank you! Are you sure your party is all

right--not in need of assistance? How did you

get out of the place you were buried?"

"Thank you! We do not require any help. It

was good of you to think of us. But we got

out the way we came in. We did not enter the

tunnel as you did, but came in through another

entrance which was not closed by the landslide.

Then we made a turn through a gateway in a

tunnel connecting with ours--a gateway which

seems to have been opened by the earthquake--

and we came here, just now.

"Too late, I see, to claim the discovery of the

idol of gold," went on Mr. Hardy. "But I trust

you will be generous, and allow us to make

observations of the buildings and other relics."

"As much as you please, and with the greatest

pleasure in the world," was the prompt answer

of Professor Bumper. "All I lay sole

claim to is the golden idol. You are at liberty

to take whatever else you find in Kurzon and to

make what observations you like."

"That is generous of you, and quite in contrast

to--er--to the conduct of our leader. I trust

he may awaken to a sense of the injustice he

did you."

But Professor Beecher was not there to hear

this. He had stalked away in anger.

"Humph!" grunted Tom. Then he continued:

"That story about a government concession was all

a fake, Professor, else he'd have put up a fight now.

Contemptible sneak!"

In fact the story of Tom Swift's trip to the

underground land of wonders is ended, for with

the discovery of the idol of gold the main object

of the expedition was accomplished. But their

adventures were not over by any means, though

there is not room in this volume to record them.

Suffice it to say that means were at once taken

to get the golden image out of the cave of the

ancient city. It was not accomplished without

hard work, for the gold was heavy, and Professor

Bumper would not, naturally, consent to

the shaving off of so much as an ear or part of

the flat nose, to say nothing of one of the half

dozen extra arms and legs with which the ugly

idol was furnished.

Finally it was safely taken out of the cave,

and along the stone passage to the opening

formed by the overthrown trees, and thence on

to camp.

And at the camp a surprise awaited Tom.

Some long-delayed mail had been forwarded

from the nearest place of civilization and there

were letters for all, including several for our hero.

One in particular he picked out first and read

eagerly.

"Well, is every little thing all right, Tom?"

asked Ned, as he saw a cheerful grin spread itself

over his chum's face.

"I should say it is, and then some! Look

here, Ned. This is a letter from----"

"I know. Mary Nestor. Go on."

"How'd you guess?"

"Oh, I'm a mind-reader."

"Huh! Well, you know she was away when

I went to call to say good-bye, and I was a little

afraid Beecher had got an inside edge on me."

"Had he?"

"No, but he tried hard enough. He went to

see Mary in Fayetteville, just as you heard, be-

fore he came on to join his party, but he didn't

pay much of a visit to her."

"No?"

"No. Mary told him he'd better hurry along

to Central America, or wherever it was he

intended going, as she didn't care for him as much

as he flattered himself she did."

"Good!" cried Ned. "Shake, old man. I'm glad!"

They shook hands.

"Well, what's the matter? Didn't you read

all of her letter?" asked Ned when he saw his

chum once more perusing the epistle.

"No. There's a postscript here.

"`Sorry I couldn't see you before you left. It

was a mistake, but when you come back----'

"Oh, that part isn't any of your affair!" and,

blushing under his tan, Tom thrust the letter

into his pocket and strode away, while Ned

laughed happily.

With the idol of gold safe in their possession,

Professor Bumper's party could devote their

time to making other explorations in the buried

city. This they did, as is testified to by a long

list of books and magazine articles since turned

out by the scientist, dealing strictly with archaeo-

logical subjects, touching on the ancient Mayan

race and its civilization, with particular reference

to their system of computing time.

Professor Beecher, young and foolish, would

not consent to delve into the riches of the ancient

city, being too much chagrined over the loss of

the idol. It seems he had really promised to

give a part of it to Mary Nestor. But he never

got the chance.

His colleagues, after their first disappointment

at being beaten, joined forces with Professor

Bumper in exploring the old city, and made many

valuable discoveries.

In one point Professor Bumper had done his

rival an injustice. That was in thinking

Professor Beecher was responsible for the treachery

of Jacinto. That was due to the plotter's own

work. It was true that Professor Beecher had

tentatively engaged Jacinto, and had sent word

to him to keep other explorers away from the

vicinity of the ancient city if possible; but

Jacinto, who did not return Professor Bumper's

money, as he had promised, had acted treacherously

in order to enrich himself. Professor

Beecher had nothing to do with that, nor had he

with the taking of the map, as has been seen, the

loss of which, after all, was a blessing in disguise,

for Kurzon would never have been located

by following the directions given there, as it was

very inaccurate.

In another point it was demonstrated that the

old documents were at fault. This was in reference

to the golden idol having been overthrown

and another set up in its place, an act which had

caused the destruction of Kurzon.

It is true that the city was destroyed, or rather,

buried, but this catastrophe was probably

brought about by an earthquake. And another

great idol, one of clay, was found, perhaps a

rival of Quitzel, but it was this clay image which

was thrown down and broken, and not the golden

one.

Perhaps an effort had been made, just before

the burying of the city, to change idols and the

system of worship, but Quitzel seemed to have

held his own. The old manuscripts were not

very reliable, it was found, except in general.

"Well, I guess this will hold Beecher for a

while," said Tom, the night of the arrival of

Mary's letter, and after he had written one in

answer, which was dispatched by a runner to

the nearest place whence mail could be

forwarded.

"Yes, luck seems to favor you," replied Ned.

"You've had a hand in the discovery of the idol

of gold, and----"

"Yes. And I discovered something else I

wasn't quite sure of," interrupted Tom, as he

felt to make sure he had a certain letter safe in

his pocket.

It was several weeks later that the explorations

of Kurzon came to an end--a temporary end, for

the rainy season set in, when the tropics are

unsuitable for white men. Tom, Professor Bumper,

Ned and Mr. Damon set sail for the United

States, the valuable idol of gold safe on board.

And there, with their vessel plowing the blue

waters of the Caribbean Sea, we will take leave

of Tom Swift and his friends.

End.