CHAPTER XVIII—ARMED AGAIN
It was Frank’s voice, and the exclamation was elicited by Frank catching sight of the figure against the parapet, now struggling to its feet, knife clutched in hand. Frank had been the first to reach his comrade’s side. He did not pause but, unarmed though he was, sprang forward.
Bob pulled the sack from his head, just in time to see Frank’s rush bear the other to his knees. Then the others were on the scene, soldiers with torches, Prince Huaca, Jack and the rest. It was all over in a trice. The man was disarmed and in the hands of two soldiers, each holding him firmly by an arm. He was a stout rascal, with an evil face.
Prince Huaca looked at him keenly.
“One of the Palace Guard,” said he. “I recognize his face and bearing, even though he is not in uniform.”
To his men, he added:
“Take him below.” As the prisoner was being led away, the prince turned to Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto.
“You see the crisis has come,” said he simply. “This is the first time they have tried assassination.”
Then he went to Bob’s side, a winning smile on his face.
“I have you to thank for saving my life,” he said. “I hope you are not hurt.”
“Not at all, thanks,” said Bob, uncomfortably. “As to saving your life, sir—well, I guess he wouldn’t have gotten much chance at you, with all your soldiers around.”
“How tell?” said the prince. “I have soldiers below, too. Yet this assassin gained the battlements.”
Then, temporarily dismissing the matter with a shrug of the shoulders, he said:
“But, come, let us complete our preparations of the—what do you call it? Ah, yes. The radio.”
Turning, he led the way to where the station was nearing completion. While the boys resumed their operations, Prince Huaca again looked on between Don Ernesto and Mr. Hampton, and conversed with them. He seemed to have thawed to them greatly, and both men gained the impression that he was a lonely man and welcomed their friendship. To himself, Mr. Hampton thought that probably the prince was gifted with so much greater intelligence and vision than those surrounding him, that, indeed, he must lead a lonely life. And this diagnosis, in after days, he was to learn was correct. For years, Prince Huaca, of all of Incarial rank, had stood alone in opposition to the War Party, pointing out the folly of invasion of the outside world in the belief that it had stood still since the days of the Incas. Of friends of lesser rank, however, he had many like the lord of the outer valley, at whose home they had stopped the first day.
As they stood there, Mr. Hampton was silent, turning these matters over in his mind, and considering their own and Prince Huaca’s predicament. He was stirred by a real liking for the man, and by a great pity for him, too. Alone in this isolation, pitted against shrewd-witted men lusting for his downfall, what chance had he?
“Prince Huaca, I want to be of help; we all want to be of help,” said he suddenly. “Indeed, our very lives depend upon aiding you to overcome your enemies and defeat their plans. May I ask, therefore, what your own plans are? It is possible we may, by putting our heads together, find some additional way of helping you beside merely calling for aid that, after all, will take weeks to reach us.”
“I shall close the fortress, admit only a daily ration of food to the city from the farms, and notify the Inca and Council that negotiations with the outside world have been launched.”
“Ere that help can arrive, however,” objected Mr. Hampton, “many days of waiting must elapse. Meanwhile, may not the fortress be attacked and treachery succeed, where tonight’s attempt fortunately came to naught?”
Before Prince Huaca could give answer, Jack approached.
“Dad, we’ll soon be in a position to broadcast and try to raise the monastery. It’s a good thing we have got the quarter-kilowatt generator, for the monastery is all of one hundred and fifty miles distant as the crow flies, and, although we have a ten-inch spark coil, we couldn’t be heard beyond fifty miles with it and the batteries for our source of energy, unless under freakish conditions. But, what I was going to ask is, What time is it?”
Mr. Hampton looked at his watch.
“Why, it’s eleven o’clock.”
“What? As late as that?”
Jack was amazed and keenly disappointed.
“Why, I had no idea we had been working so long. I’m afraid, then, we won’t be able to pick up the monastery tonight. La Prensa’s nightly concert will have been finished, and they’ll all be in bed. What tough luck!”
“Try, anyway, Jack,” urged Mr. Hampton, in an anxious tone. “Time is invaluable to us. Perhaps,” he added, hopefully, “Brother Gregorio will be pottering around and will catch your signal.”
Jack shook his head doubtfully.
“The good monks used to be in bed at nine o’clock before we put in the radio set for them. And they’ve still got sleepy habits. But we’ll see.”
He walked to where Bob and Frank were putting the finishing installation touches to the generator. Some six or eight inches in diameter, it was firmly planted on its legs, handles projecting on either side.
“All ready, Jack,” said Frank. “You take the instrument and Bob and I will get up steam.”
Interested spectators, the other principals, grouped themselves close, with the torch bearers forming a ring about them. Bob and Frank began pumping away at the handles.
“Reminds me of making ice cream in the old freezer,” said Bob.
Brother Gregorio had been placed in charge of the radio at the monastery, and it was for him Jack called repeatedly, after tuning to the monastery’s meter wave length, but no answer came back.
“No use, I’m afraid,” he said at last, disappointedly. “May as well ease up, fellows. They’re all asleep, as I expected.”
“And that’s the nearest radio station, too,” said Frank. “There isn’t another within our radius.”
“Well, we’ll have to wait until tomorrow, that’s all,” added Bob.
The matter was explained to Prince Huaca, who was disappointed greatly, and wanted the boys to make another attempt to raise the monastery. Jack complied, but again without success.
“Ah, well,” said the prince, resignedly. “It is in the hands of God.”
Don Ernesto glanced at him in quick surprise, and the prince rightly interpreted the look.
“Nay,” said he, “I am not as my people in religion, for I have read much in the Holy Book left by the holy men who came hither centuries ago with de Arguello. But of that we shall speak, perhaps, some other time. Let us now decide what shall be done with this radio tonight, and then return to my apartments.”
It was hardly likely that anything untoward would happen to the outfit, yet sentries were placed on guard from among the awed torch bearers. Then the party returned below. Instead of dismissing them to their quarters, along with Pedro and Carlos, Prince Huaca invited Mr. Hampton, Don Ernesto and the boys to enter his apartments again. When they were back in the inner room, he ordered the prisoner brought before him.
Escorted by two guards, whom Prince Huaca dismissed to the anteroom during the examination, the prisoner was brought in. Of the examination itself, which was brief, and was conducted in the unknown Inca tongue, the others could make nothing. It appeared to all, however, that the man was visibly frightened, although he cloaked his fear under a mask of stoicism. Several times they heard the name of “Cinto” uttered by the prince. At length, the guards were resummoned and the prisoner led away.
For a time after his departure, Prince Huaca sat silent, elbows planted on the table, his head in his hands, lost in thought. That it was none too pleasant could be seen from his expression.
“It was as I thought,” he confided at length. “The High Priest, Cinto, and his rascally nephew despatched this man to assassinate me. Should he have accomplished his deed, he was to have been given an officer’s command in the Palace Guard. Ah, my poor uncle, what rascals surround him and prey upon his superstitions and his love of a fading life!
“The fellow says he gained entrance by calling to see an acquaintance among my troops; and then, in the relaxation of the holiday which obtained in the guard room, he slipped into the interior of the fortress and made his way to the battlements, after seeing us go to them. This is lax discipline that permits of such things, and shall be inquired into presently.
“And now it is late and you will want to retire. But before you go, I have something to give you. You see, I trust you utterly. Do you, therefore, Senor Hampton, open the cabinet behind you, and there you will find the weapons taken from you on your capture. These I trust you with, and enjoin you not to make use of except in case of direct necessity. Yet, after what has happened tonight, my faith in my defences is shaken. If one man may creep in thus easily, may not others have done so? I questioned the rascal as to that, but he denied it. Yet I am not convinced. I, myself, shall take precautions to guard myself tonight, and you with these weapons will also be safe.
“They are, doubtless, far better weapons than those which we make after the pattern of the arms brought hither by the Spaniards in the early days?”
It was more question than statement, and Mr. Hampton nodded.
“They are, indeed, Prince Huaca,” said he. “And these small ones, called pistols, are very deadly and can shoot a great distance. Will you permit me,” he asked suddenly, “to tender you one of them? It can be carried concealed upon your person, and is better protection than anything; far better than a dozen trusty men even, provided they be not provided with modern arms.”
He advanced to the prince, carrying an automatic.
“It is simple to operate,” said he, “and will discharge a half dozen shots in succession without pause to reload.”
Briefly he explained the use of the weapon, and Prince Huaca accepted with thanks what he might have taken without a by-your-leave. He tucked it away, within his tunic and under his broad golden girdle.
They then took their leave and were led by the jailer once more to their room, where they found Pedro and Carlos contentedly snoring away.
“In the morning we shall radio,” said the prince, on their departure.
The others agreed.
But——
CHAPTER XIX—TREACHERY
“What’s that?”
Frank sat up in bed, listened a moment, then shook the form of Bob beside him. He shook vigorously. Bob grunted.
“Tumble out,” said Frank, himself hitting the floor. And he raised his voice to a shout:
“Everybody up.”
Springing to the nearest couch, where reposed Jack and his father, beginning to stir and blink at his shout, Frank shook them too. All the time he continued shouting: “Everybody up. Everybody up.”
All were awake by now, sitting up in bed or springing to the floor. And the sounds that had caused Frank to awaken could be heard plainly.
Above the revelry in the square below, which had continued unabated hour after hour, could be heard a different hubbub, men shouting, and the sound of firearms being discharged. Ferdinand sprang to a loophole and stared out on a tossing, surging mass of humanity, lighted fitfully by the glare of the bonfires and the tossing flame of torches. All around the edges of the square, men, women and children were fleeing as if in panic. Before the great stairs of the Temple, where glowed the hugest bonfire of all, could be seen a force of men in gleaming armor—something which caused Ferdinand to rub his eyes and wonder if he were dreaming. They were close knit and firing to the rear as they advanced steadily.
“Look, look,” cried Ferdinand.
All sprang to the loopholes.
The armor-clad force set foot on the stairway and started upward, those in the rear continuing their rear-guard fight.
“What is it? Who’s fighting?”
They craned to see the opposing force. Ah, there it was. A rabble of men from the direction of the fortress, some with firearms which they were discharging at the group mounting the Temple stairs, others armed only with spears. Some wore helmet or breastplate, but none were fully clothed in armor. They were shouting with rage, and it seemed to the onlookers there were cries of “Huaca, Huaca.”
What could it mean? They stared, fascinated, absorbed, beginning to grow alarmed. The force on the Temple stairs held together firmly. Several dropped as if wounded, but were lifted by comrades and supported into the Temple. The force reached the top of the stairway. Then, from the great pillars of the portico, gloomy and unlighted, above the glare of the bonfire, stepped numbers of men, similarly clad in armor, who took up position in serried rank along the top of the steps, and, at the command of a plumed leader in the middle, delivered with uplifted sword, started down the steps.
Suddenly a new clash of steel, seemingly at the base of the fortress rock, immediately below the windows of the prisoners, broke out. It was succeeded by loud shouts. They craned, but could not see.
“Sounds like an attack on the fort,” cried Frank, withdrawing from his loophole to shout to Jack and his father at the next one.
“But that isn’t possible,” Jack replied. “The only approach to the fort is up a winding stairway from the city. Below us is rock.”
“But, listen. Something’s going on. Wish I could see.”
“Look, Frank, look.” Bob pulled his companion back to their loophole.
Frank followed the injunction.
Back across the square, running pell mell, came the men who had pursued the armor-clad warriors into the Temple.
“Those are soldiers from the fortress, boys,” said Mr. Hampton, over Frank’s shoulder. Frank and Bob turned about to see Jack and his father, who had approached from their loophole.
“Do you think so?”
“Yes,” answered Mr. Hampton, speaking rapidly. “I believe that in some manner Prince Huaca has been captured and that force we saw disappear into the Temple had him in its midst. His soldiers followed, unorganized and enraged. Now a force in their rear has attacked the fortress, possibly at a sally-post below us of which we know nothing. Arm yourselves at once, boys, and barricade the door with the couches. If the fortress falls, we will defend ourselves.”
“Thank goodness Prince Huaca returned us our weapons and ammunition last night,” said Bob, leaping to possess himself of rifle and revolver.
“Last night?” said Frank. “Why, this is the same night.”
“Right you are, Frank. But things move so fast here, I lose track of time.”
While the others armed, and then barricaded the door, Mr. Hampton kept watch at the loophole. Prince Huaca’s followers could no longer be seen. The armor-clad Palace Guard was sweeping across the great square, empty now of merrymakers, in a wave. But, though he could not see the soldiers of the prince, Mr. Hampton could tell what had become of them. For up from the foot of the Acropolis below his loophole came an increased sound of shouting and clashing steel.
He looked again. The Palace Guard had increased pace. Evidently, all was not going well with the attacking party at the Acropolis, as the retreating soldiers from the fortress fell upon them in the rear. Would the soldiers of the fortress win back to shelter with their comrades? Or would the reinforcements of the Palace Guard arrive in time to break down resistance? Mr. Hampton trembled. Upon the outcome depended the fate of the boys in the room behind. Jack! His eyes misted. Well, they would sell their lives dearly.
Straining to listen to the sounds from below, watching the oncoming wave of the Palace Guard, Mr. Hampton was unaware of what was transpiring in the room behind him. A hand fell on his arm. He whirled about. It was Jack.
“Somebody’s at the door.”
Mr. Hampton gripped his rifle, and sprang toward the barricade of couches behind which crouched the rest of their little force. The great door of the room opened outward. They could see the light of several torches shining upon helmet and lance point.
At sight of the barricade, and of the rifles poking over it, there was a hasty scramble on the part of those in the corridor to get out of the way. Then a white flag was thrust up on a spear point, and Mr. Hampton saw it was borne by their jailer—the man whom Prince Huaca trusted with the knowledge of the secret passage into his inner apartment, the man whose kindly face, as he had dealt with them, had made them feel they had a friend in him, even though there was no common tongue between them.
He made signs to indicate he came in peace, then beckoned another forward. This other, in the dress of a noble, seemed vaguely familiar to Mr. Hampton. Jack supplied the answer.
“Why, Dad, it’s the young noble at whose house we stopped when we were brought through the outer valley as prisoners. He’s a friend of Prince Huaca.”
“What the deuce, though,” said Mr. Hampton. “I can’t speak to him in his language.”
It was unnecessary.
In Spanish far poorer than Prince Huaca’s, yet still understandable, the young noble explained he came in peace. Then he asked that he be admitted. Part of the barricade was removed, and he was brought into the room. He and Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto withdrew to one side and carried on a low-voiced conversation.
Presently, he bowed and withdrew from the room, the guard in the corridor going with him. The jailer, however, at his command, remained behind, and the door was left open. The boys looked inquiringly at the older men.
“Tear down the barricade, boys, so we have something to sit on. The fortress is still in the hands of Prince Huaca’s men. The prince, as I surmised, has been captured. This young noble, Michac, had heard a rumor out at his country home of impending trouble, and was so alarmed for Prince Huaca’s safety that he started for the fortress at once. He arrived too late. Prince Huaca had been captured by a body of men who gained entrance to his sleeping chamber through the secret passage. How it was all brought about has yet to be learned. They carried him out through a postern, where a strong body from the Palace Guard was in waiting. That was the force we first saw make its way to the Temple.
“Michac has gone to see the safeguarding of the fortress, and has assumed command, for the soldiers believe there was treachery among their offices and have deposed all. Michac is known to them, he has always held aloof from the Court, and they trust him, and offered him the command. He plans to send a messenger at once to the Inca with word that if Prince Huaca is slain, the fortress troops will starve the city.
“The position of the fortress, controlling the food supply of the city, gives him the opportunity thus to preserve Prince Huaca’s life. On the other hand, if he attacks, Prince Huaca would be slain. Thus, matters probably will be deadlocked. Michac says that from a letter sent him by Prince Huaca, he learned of the latter’s trust in us, and thus has asked us to place ourselves at his disposal, as allies and advisers.
“He will return presently. Now you have the whole matter before you. It looks dark, yet not entirely hopeless.”
CHAPTER XX—FRANK PLANS A MIRACLE
Michac, however, was delayed far longer than he anticipated, and the remaining hours of the night passed without his return. None passed through their corridor. No messengers appeared with word from Michac. They were left in darkness as to the course of events.
Sleep for most of them would have been impossible. Only Pedro and Carlos, apprised briefly by Don Ernesto as to what had occurred, could yield to slumber. They, however, with the stoic philosophy and acceptance of a situation that the boys on previous occasions had admired, turned in and slept soundly, ready for the next call to action.
“Boy, how I wish I could do the same,” said big Bob, glancing enviously at the slumbering huachos. “No use to try, though. I might get to sleep, but it would be only to have Frank chuck me out of bed the next minute. Seems to me I never yet got to sleep that he didn’t go out and start a couple of bunches of fellows to fighting each other, just to spoil my slumber.”
Don Ernesto and Mr. Hampton fell into quiet, low-voiced conversation, and the boys posted themselves at the loopholes to watch for developments.
The bonfires still blazed in the great square, fed ever and again by members of the Palace Guard. These latter, clad in complete armor, were posted at every street leading into the square. The fitful glare of the bonfires gleamed now and again upon breastplate or helmet.
Of all that great multitude which had been making merry, none remained. Several had been wounded in the crossfire of the two opposing forces, but their bodies had been removed. Where before all was mirth and merry-making, now reigned an ominous, oppressive silence.
Now and again the intermittent gleam of torches borne through the streets could be seen in the thoroughfares radiating from the great square. The boys wondered what it portended.
“Perhaps the High Priest is ferreting out Prince Huaca’s friends and arresting them,” suggested Frank, on one occasion.
Hours passed, while the boys kept moving about, talking, watching through the loopholes. At length, Bob, with a jaw-dislocating yawn, flung himself down on a couch, and went soundly to sleep. A moment later Ferdinand succumbed to the force of suggestion and to his overwhelming fatigue, and also lay down.
Silence, while the jailer, crouching by the door in the position he had held for hours, seemed a graven image; silence, while Don Ernesto and Mr. Hampton sat forward, voiceless, lost in thought, their elbows on their knees, on a couch near the door; silence, while Frank and Jack leaned in a loophole, their heads close together, staring down at the Temple front and the portion of the square within their view.
“Jack,” said Frank at last, in a low voice, “I’ve been thinking.”
“Yes?”
“We can get out to safety all right, probably, with Michac in command.”
“I suppose he’d let us go.”
“But we can’t desert Prince Huaca.”
“That’s right.”
“He’s a white man.”
“He certainly is.”
“He trusted us, Jack, and we ought to help him.”
“We ought to, indeed.”
“I have an idea.”
“What is it, Frank?”
“Don’t laugh, Jack, will you?”
“No, I won’t laugh, Frank. This is pretty serious business. What is there to laugh at?”
“I mean I don’t want you to laugh at my idea.”
“All right, Frank, I promise. What is it?”
A lengthy pause. Frank’s shoulders began to shake. He looked at him curiously.
“Why—why——”
“Yes, Jack, I’m laughing myself. I can’t help it. Oh, but this is too good. But”—Frank by an effort regained control of himself and resumed his normal expression—“just the same, I’m right.”
“Well, for goodness sake, what is it? What have you got in mind? I’d like to laugh, too.”
“Jack, you promised.”
“All right. Out with it.”
Jack was interested. His curiosity was piqued. What could Frank have in mind?
“Well, Jack, you remember Pedro has false teeth? A full set, with a rubber plate that looks just like a palate?”
“Yes. Go on.”
“And Carlos has a glass eye?”
“Yes, yes.”
“And, Jack, you remember Don Ernesto’s toupee?”
“Well, what of it?”
“It’s a wonderful work of art, Jack. When he wears it, you would swear it was his own luxuriant hair. And when he takes it off——”
“He’s certainly bald, and his head shines like a billiard ball. Yes, I know. What of it? What’s all this got to do with rescuing Prince Huaca—false teeth, glass eyes and toupee?”
Frank stared at him.
“Jack, don’t you see?”
Jack was sleepy, fatigued, and peevish.
“No, I don’t. What’s the matter with you, anyway?”
“Well, Jack, when you think of modern inventions, you think of the airplane and radio and steamers and locomotives and telephones, don’t you?”
“I suppose so.”
“But, Jack, the savages know nothing about glass eyes and false teeth and toupees. And I’m sure the Incas don’t know anything about them, either.”
Jack looked at Frank, puzzled.
“That’s right, Frank. But how can it benefit us?”
“Well, look here. Suppose we appeared before the Inca and his Council as a delegation from the fortress and demanded Prince Huaca’s release on pain of working our magic on the Inca and all his forces. Then we’d give them a demonstration. Your father has a little pointed beard. He could make up to look like a magician. He’d make a few passes, utter some words in English—anything would confound them, as English is unknown to them—and then Pedro would pull out his teeth, Carlos would pluck out his eye, and Don Ernesto would scalp himself. Wouldn’t that just give them fits? Wouldn’t it just——”
But Jack’s bewildered expression had given way to one of mirth, uncontrollable mirth, and he laughed until he was weak, leaning back against the wall, his hands pressed to his aching sides. Frank, too, yielded to merriment, expostulating between spasms of laughter:
“You promised not to laugh, Jack. You promised.”
The sound of their laughter reached Don Ernesto and Mr. Hampton, and they looked inquiringly toward its source; then, as the boys continued to go off into fresh gales of mirth, arose from the couch and approached them.
“What’s the joke, boys? Let us in on it,” said Mr. Hampton, smiling.
“Oh, I can’t, Dad. I can’t speak. Ask Frank.”
Jack was so weak he could hardly support himself. The ludicrous idea propounded by his friend, coming on top of his nervous strain, had induced a species of hysteria.
The two older men grinned in sympathy with the boys, although in the dark as to the cause of their laughter.
“Some boyish joke, I suppose,” said Mr. Hampton, and was about to turn away, but Jack recovered himself sufficiently to lay a detaining hand on his arm.
“Wait a minute, Dad. Give me a chance to get my breath. You must hear this.”
The two older men paused, expectant. Presently Jack recovered sufficiently to attempt an explanation.
“Frank there,” he said, pointing to his still quaking comrade. And then he explained what Frank had proposed.
“I hope we won’t give you offense, Don Ernesto,” he said, with quick compunction.
The latter, however, was a jolly sort. And he was struck with the originality of the idea. With a comical gesture he put his hand to his head, removed his toupee and held it aloft while Mr. Hampton, seeing what he was about, pulled a long face and made several mysterious passes before him.
They had moved close to the table and stood revealed in the light of the rekindled lamp.
A wild shriek came from the doorway. They swung about startled, Don Ernesto still holding his toupee aloft. The shriek brought Bob and Ferdinand to the floor. Even Carlos and Pedro sprang upright on their couch.
“Great guns, I forgot the jailer was sitting over there,” said Mr. Hampton. “Look at him.”
“Hurray,” cried Frank. “It worked.”
“What do you mean? What worked?”
It was Bob, rubbing his eyes.
Frank, however, paid him no attention.
“Look, look,” he said, seizing Mr. Hampton’s arm. “He saw Don Ernesto scalp himself and he’s scared stiff.”
“I believe you’re right, Frank,” said Mr. Hampton, delightedly.
They hurried to the recumbent form. The jailer lay on his face, his hands up to his eyes, as if shutting out an horrific sight. He was moaning like a man in the extremity of terror.
“Let’s try the teeth and the false eye on him, too,” said Frank, carried away with enthusiasm at the unexpected proof of the plausibility of his suggestion.
“No, no,” protested Mr. Hampton. “The man is beside himself with terror now.”
Bending down, he began to pat the fellow on the back, and endeavor to induce him to raise his head. Don Ernesto, meanwhile, restored his toupee. Presently, although Mr. Hampton knew no words in the other’s tongue, he had brought him back to some semblance of sanity. The jailer still trembling violently, was induced to get to his feet, but his hands were still to his eyes, as if he feared to gaze upon a terrible sight.
The room grew lighter. A glance toward the loopholes revealed the sky was becoming bright in the east.
“Look,” said Jack, “it is dawn.”
At that moment, while Mr. Hampton still patted the trembling form of the jailer, steps were heard in the corridor, and the flickering light of torches was reflected on the walls. Frank looked out.
“Here comes Michac with a bodyguard,” he said. “Say——”
He faced the room, glancing at the others.
“What?” asked Jack.
“Let’s try the whole works on Michac and his escort.”
CHAPTER XXI—TO GO OR NOT TO GO
Jack laughed with the others, but, sobering, said:
“I’d like to, Frank. But don’t you think it would be rather mean to frighten our friends?”
Mr. Hampton interrupted quickly.
“The thought does you credit, Jack. But there is something else to consider. I really believe Frank’s plan for aweing the Inca and his Council a good one. This is a matter of life and death. If the plan is to succeed it must be capable of thoroughly frightening these people and convincing them of our magical powers. And, as Michac and his escort are the same sort of people on whom our tricks would have to be tried in earnest, it is well to give a dress rehearsal, so to speak, and see what our luck will be.”
“Here they come,” said Frank, looking out the door.
“Very well,” said Mr. Hampton, rapidly. “Pedro, Carlos, when I make mysterious signs and order you to remove your eye and teeth, do you do so as if unwillingly, but under compulsion. If you can grimace and pretend it pains you, so much the better. Ready. Here they are.”
As Michac appeared in the doorway, Mr. Hampton faced Don Ernesto, Pedro and Carlos, who stood shoulder to shoulder. He acted as if the young noble and the half dozen soldiers behind him had not been seen. Waving his hands like a mesmerist, in the faces of the trio, he began reciting a rigmarole of whatever words came into his head.
The three controlled their features with commendable gravity, and, indeed, acted as if in fear of Mr. Hampton. Michac paused in astonishment. The soldiers betrayed mingled alarm and curiosity. As for the jailer, he moaned and cowered against the wall. The boys had all they could do to keep from laughing. Then Mr. Hampton made an especially fierce gesture toward Pedro.
“Hocus pocus, abracadabra, pluck out thine eye,” he commanded, in Spanish.
Pedro grimaced as if in pain, brushed his hand across his right eye and brought it away with the glass eyeball in his fingers. He held it out to Mr. Hampton.
The jailer, whose curiosity got the better of prudence, had withdrawn his hands from his eyes. Now he emitted another piercing shriek and once more cowered down, too stricken to move. The soldiers pushed back against each other, making little sounds of fear. Michac held his ground, but he became pale.
“Pull out thy teeth and palate,” commanded Mr. Hampton, ferociously, making a pass with his hands before Carlos.
Out came the false teeth, with the palate of red gum, looking like the roof of his mouth. He opened his mouth wide, exposing the toothless gums.
It was too much for the jailer. He had had enough. He turned and dashed wildly through the group of soldiers, and down the corridor.
“After him, after him, he’ll turn the fortress topsy turvy,” cried the quick-witted Jack.
Frank, who was nearest the door, was off like a shot. Nobody attempted to halt him. And he was fortunate enough to come upon the jailer within a few yards, for the latter in his blind haste had stumbled and fallen.
The soldiers were on the verge of panic. Michac, too, was shaken, but held his ground, either out of a fascinated curiosity to see what would occur next, or else in the feeling that he must set an example to his men.
“Now, take this knife and scalp thyself,” Mr. Hampton commanded Don Ernesto, extending his pocket knife.
The latter screwed up his face as if in agony, ran the knife blade seemingly around his head, then with a tug lifted off his toupee, revealing his hairless dome.
It was too much. The soldiers fell over each other trying to get away. There were shrieks and cries, as they darted off with tossing torches.
“Quick,” cried Mr. Hampton, seizing Michac’s arm urgently. “Command them to return. ’Tis but a trick.”
But Michac, although he had resolutely held his ground and refused to flee, was helpless. He was so stupefied that he could not move. He could not even speak. He opened his mouth, but no sound came forth.
“Well, I guess they won’t do any harm,” said Mr. Hampton. “Let them go. Jack, get this chap a drink of water from the table.”
Michac accepted the cup gratefully, and put it to his lips, but his hand shook so badly that he spilled most of the contents.
“There, you will feel better,” said Mr. Hampton. “Now, Senor permit me to explain.”
Leading Michac to a couch, he explained as simply as he could how modern surgical science made false teeth and eyes possible, while the toupee was the outgrowth of a demand of fashion. Then he bade the others restore their original appearance, and they complied. In conclusion, Mr. Hampton explained Frank’s idea that they proceed to the Incarial Council, demand Prince Huaca’s release on pain of incurring the white man’s vengeance, and then proceed to demonstrate their “magic.”
“Do you consider it would succeed?” he asked.
Michac, a young man of intelligence and sense, grasped Mr. Hampton’s explanation quickly, and his fear disappeared. He smiled broadly and delightedly.
“Succeed, Senor? You will make Cinto and his priests die of envy. No such miracles can they perform.”
“Yes, but think you we can obtain Prince Huaca’s release?”
“Nay, I cannot say. They will be frightened, yes. Was not I? And I am a man not easily scared. Yet Prince Huaca is bitterly hated by Cinto and the Council. Not willingly will they give him up. I will be frank with you. I would like the attempt made. Yet if you fail, it is death. Have you no other magic greater than these?”
They looked at each other nonplussed. Suddenly Jack’s face brightened.
“The radio outfit, Dad. Surely we can do something with that.”
Mr. Hampton nodded quickly,
“Good, Jack, good. There must be a way to use it effectively.”
Michac, who had not understood the rapid interchange of remarks, looked inquiringly at Mr. Hampton.
“Will you come with us to the battlement, Senor?” Mr. Hampton said, slowly, in Spanish. “Prince Huaca knows of further and greater magic, and left sentries on guard there last night over it.”
“I heard a strange tale from those men,” said Michac. “For, yes, I found them there upon my inspection of the fortress during the night. Willingly will I accompany you.”
Jack interposed.
“But first, Dad, perhaps Michac ought to round up his escort and prevent them from demoralizing the fortress troops with wild tales of what occurred here.”
“Right,” said Mr. Hampton, and turning to the young nobleman, he communicated Jack’s suggestion. The other nodded.
“Await me.”
When he had left, the boys began to laugh over their recent experience, but Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto were thoughtful. They looked at each other understanding and spoke together, low-voiced. Then Mr. Hampton turned to the lads.
“We’re afraid it can’t be done,” he said. “It was good fun, and all that. But the chances of failure are too great to warrant us in imperiling our lives. It is true, we might go to the Inca as a delegation under a flag of truce, but we have no guarantee its sanctity would be regarded.”
“Oh, Dad, everybody regards the sanctity of a flag of truce.”
Jack’s tone was disappointed.
But Mr. Hampton shook his head.
“I’m afraid the risk is too great.”
“Look here, Dad, I’ve got an idea. You know my ring radio set? I’ve got it with me. We can take that along with us to the audience. Then we’ll tell the Inca that the white man’s god wants to speak to him, clap the ring on his finger, adjust the headphone for him, and, from our station on top of the fortress, order him to release Prince Huaca and punish the conspirators against him. Now don’t say it can’t be done, Dad, for it can, and you know it can. We’ve got plenty of wire, and can run up all the aerial necessary in a trice, stand the Inca on one of those gold flagstones in his palace and give him what he asks for.”
Mr. Hampton laughed.
“Not so bad, Jack, but——”
“Besides, Mr. Hampton,” interposed Frank, “remember we have our pistols—and automatics are something these people aren’t accustomed to. That is another marvel.”
“But we couldn’t take those along under a flag of truce.”
“Why not?” asked Don Ernesto. “They would know nothing about them. The weapons could be tucked away out of sight. And, although to carry them would seem a breach of faith, yet if we would save Prince Huaca, the end justifies the means, it seems to me.”
At that moment Michac returned.
“Ask him about a flag of truce, Dad, whether the Incarial forces would respect it?” suggested Jack.
Mr. Hampton did as proposed. Michac straightened proudly.
“It would be respected,” he said.
“Then, Dad, your major objection of the danger to us is overborne.”
“Yes, I see. But about the pistols, I don’t know.”
Mr. Hampton shook his head. Then he had an inspiration. Taking out his pistol, he held it up for Michac to view.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked.
Michac regarded it curiously. He confessed ignorance. Then, on second thought, he added:
“It is strange. Yet it looks like a tiny gun such as children might make were they expert gunsmiths. Is it a toy?”
“The deadliest known to man,” said Mr. Hampton. And he explained.
“Would we be deprived of these if we went to the Inca’s palace?”
“Nay, I doubt it.”
“Then we can take them,” said Don Ernesto, who had been listening closely. “That is good.”
“But, under a flag of truce——”
“My friend,” said Don Ernesto, “you are quixotic. We risk our lives in a quixotic venture, as it is, if we go to attempt to obtain Prince Huaca’s release. At least let us take advantage of this fortunate circumstance that pistols are unknown here and carry our weapons as protection against treachery. For, though Senor Michac says a flag of truce will be respected, you must remember we are dealing with the High Priest Cinto and his nephew, not with the Inca, and they already have tried to assassinate Prince Huaca and then carried him off captive. Though why,” he added, “he was not assassinated this second time, but merely made prisoner, I cannot see.”
“Perhaps they thought better of it,” said Mr. Hampton. “What think you, Senor?” he added, addressing Michac.
“Nay, I do not know. The plans of this Cinto are beyond my understanding. Yet it may be he repented of having directed assassination and when his spies within the fortress reported failure of the plan, he was glad. For Prince Huaca is beloved of the people, and there might have been an uprising; whereas, if he be but prisoner, men will not so willingly put their lives in danger. An it may be, too,” he added, as an afterthought, “that the man captured by you on the battlement was not sent to slay but to aid in the capture of Prince Huaca. It may be that the story he told of being sent to slay was false, and was told the prince in order to cloak the real design. For the man, as it has been proven, had little to fear. He was released from his fetters by traitors within the fortress, and escaped during the night, probably with those who carried off the prince.”
Mr. Hampton shook his head. “Palace politics are beyond me,” he said. “Evidently this Cinto is a thorough-going scoundrel. But, to return to the matter of whether we go before the Inca with our pistols concealed——”
He was interrupted by the appearance of a soldier at the door, evidently in great haste.
The latter saluted Michac, and the latter gave him permission to speak.
Then Michac turned to the others gravely, and interrupted.
“The Inca has sent a messenger, calling upon me to surrender you to him at once, as you are Incarial prisoners. What shall I do?”