“His old trick again,” murmured the professor. “I should have been on my guard. However, it doesn’t matter. But come on, boys. If we stand out here our plans will soon be known to every one.”
The travelers went back to their hotel, but the crowds of people remained at the square, for there were other antics of the entertainers to follow.
“I wonder if we’ll have to sleep ‘en el sereno’ to-night?” said Bob. “If we do, I’m going to stay awake.”
“Yes, indeed; if they treat Chunky the way they did Jerry and myself, we’ll be stranded,” put in Ned. “Have you got it all right, Chunky?”
What “it” was, Ned did not say; but Bob understood, and, feeling where his money-belt encircled his waist, nodded to indicate that it was still in place.
The travelers found there was plenty of room in the hotel. They were given a large apartment with four beds in it, and told they could sleep there together. They found that the room had but one door to it, and all the windows were too high up to admit of easy entrance. So, building a barricade of chairs in front of the portal, the adventurers decided it would not be necessary to stand guard. If any one came into the apartment he would have to make noise enough to awaken the soundest sleeper.
Thus protected, the travelers went to bed. Nor were their slumbers disturbed by the advent of any robbers. However, if they could have seen what was taking place in a small hut on the outskirts of the town, about midnight, they might not have slept as peacefully.
Within a small adobe house, well concealed in a grove of trees, five figures were grouped around a table on which burned a candle stuck in a bottle.
“I’ll make trouble for Jerry Hopkins and his friends yet,” spoke a youth, pounding the table with his fist.
“That’s what you’re always saying, Noddy Nixon,” put in a man standing over in the shadow.
“Well, I mean it this time, Tom Dalsett. We’d have put them out of business long ago if I’d had my way.”
“Well, what are you going to do this time?” asked a lad, about Noddy’s age, whom, had the Motor Boys seen him, they would have at once known for Jack Pender, though he had become quite stout and bronzed by his travels.
“I’ve got a plan,” went on Noddy. “I didn’t come over to Mexico for nothing.”
“What do you s’pose they come for?” asked Bill Berry, who was busy cleaning his revolver.
“To locate a silver mine, of course,” replied Noddy. “Ain’t that so, Vasco?” and Nixon turned to a slick-looking Mexican, who was rolling a cigarette. The fellow was a halfbreed, having some American blood in his veins.
“Si, señor,” was the reply. “Trust Vasco Bilette for finding out things. I heard them talking about a mine.”
“Of course; I told you so,” said Noddy.
The truth of it was that Bilette had heard nothing of the sort, but thought it best to agree with Noddy.
“I hope we have better luck getting in on this mine than we did on their gold mine,” said Pender.
“Well, rather!” put in Dalsett.
“Leave it to me,” went on Noddy. “I have a plan. And now do you fellows want to stay here all night or travel in the auto?”
“Stay here,” murmured Bilette. “It is warm and comfortable. One can smoke here.” Then, as if that settled it, he rolled himself up in his blanket, and, with a last puff on his cigarette, he went to sleep on the floor.
In a little while the others followed his example. Bilette slept better than any one, for he seemed to be used to the hordes of fleas that infested the hut.
As for Noddy, he awakened several times because of the uncomfortableness of his bed. Finally he got up and went out to sit up the rest of the night on the cushioned seats of the automobile.
So far, the Nixon crowd had done nothing but ride on a sort of pleasure trip through Mexico. Noddy had managed to get some cash from home, and, with what Dalsett obtained by gambling, they managed to live.
Shortly after crossing the Rio Grande River, Noddy had fallen in with a slick Mexican, Vasco Bilette by name, and had added him to his party. Bilette knew the country well, and was of considerable assistance. He seemed to have no particular occupation. Some evenings, when they would be near a large town, he would disappear. He always turned up in the morning with plenty of cash. How he got it he never said.
But once he returned with a knife wound in the hand, and again, limping slightly from a bullet in the leg. From which it might be inferred that Vasco used other than gentle and legitimate means of making a livelihood. But Noddy’s crowd was not one that asked embarrassing questions.
With no particular object in view, Noddy had driven his car hither and thither. However, accidentally hearing that Jerry and his friends had come over into Mexico, Noddy determined to remain in their vicinity, learn their plans, and, if possible, thwart them to his own advantage.
Fortunately, the boys and the professor, soundly sleeping at their inn, could not look into the future and see the dangers they were to run, all because of Noddy and his gang. If they could have, they might have turned back.
Bright and early the next morning Professor Snodgrass awoke. He looked out of the window, saw that the sun was shining, and rejoiced that the day was to be pleasant. Then he happened to spy a new kind of a fly buzzing around the room.
“Ah, I must have you!” exclaimed the naturalist, unlimbering his insect net. “Easy now, easy!”
On tiptoes he began encircling the room after the fly. The buzzer seemed in no mood to be caught, and the professor made several ineffectual attempts to ensnare it. Finally the insect lighted on Bob’s nose, as the boy still slumbered.
“Now I have you!” the professor cried. He forgot that Bob might have some feelings, and thinking only of the rare fly, he brought the net down smartly on Bob’s countenance.
“Help! Help! Robbers! Thieves!” shouted the boy.
“Keep still! Don’t move! I have it now!” yelled the professor, gathering up his net with the fly in it. “Ah, there you are, my little beauty!”
Ned and Jerry tumbled out of their beds, Ned with his revolver ready in his hand.
“Oh, I thought it was some one after my money-belt,” said Bob, when his eyes were fully opened and he saw the professor.
“Sorry to disturb you,” said the naturalist. “But it’s in the interest of science, my dear young friend, and science is no respecter of persons.”
“Nor of my nose, either,” observed Bob, rubbing his proboscis with a rueful countenance.
There came a loud pounding at the door.
“Who’s there?” asked Jerry.
“’Tis I, the landlord,” was the answer. “What is it? Have the brigands come? Is the place on fire? Why did the señor yell, as if some one had stuck a knife into him?”
“It was only me,” called Bob. “The professor caught a new kind of fly on my nose.”
“A fly! On your nose! Diablo! Those Americanos! They are crazy!” the innkeeper muttered as he went away.
“Well, we’re up; I suppose we may as well stay up,” said Ned, stretching and yawning. “My, but I did sleep good!”
They all agreed that the night’s sleep had been a restful one. They dressed, had breakfast, and, in spite of the entreaties of the landlord to stay a few days, they were soon on the road in the automobile.
“I’m glad to know we are on the right path,” said the professor, after several miles had been covered. “I only hope that old Mexican was not joking with us.”
“What was that he said about turning to the left?” asked Ned.
“We are to turn when we come to the place where the laughing monkey is,” said Bob.
“Serpent was what he said,” observed Jerry. “The laughing serpent. I wonder what that can be. I never saw a snake laugh.”
“It might be a figure of speech, or he may have meant there is a stone image carved in that design set up to mark a road,” spoke the professor. “However, we shall see.”
Dinner was eaten in a little glade beside a small brook, where some fish were caught. Then, while the boys stretched out on the grass, the professor, who was never idle, took a small rifle and said he would go into the forest and see if he could not get a few specimens.
“Look out for snakes!” called Ned.
“I will,” replied the naturalist, remembering his former experience.
About an hour later, when Jerry was just beginning to think it was time to start off, the stillness of the forest was broken by a terrible and blood-curdling yell.
“A tiger!” cried Bob.
“There are no tigers here,” said Jerry. “But it’s some wild beast!”
The yell was repeated. Then came a crashing of the underbrush, followed by a wild call for help.
“That’s the professor!” cried Jerry, seizing his rifle.
The boys crashed through the bushes and under the low branches of trees in the direction of the professor’s voice. They could hear him more plainly now.
“Help! Help! Come quick!” the naturalist cried.
The sight that met the boys’ eyes when they came out into a little clearing of the forest was at once calculated to amuse and alarm them. They saw the professor clinging to the tail of a mountain lion, the beast being suspended over a low tree-limb, with the naturalist hanging on one side of the branch and the animal on the other, the brute in the air and the professor on the ground.
The infuriated beast was struggling and wiggling to get free from the grip the professor had of its tail. It snarled and growled, now and then giving voice to a fierce roar, and endeavoring to swing far enough back to bite or claw the naturalist.
As for Professor Snodgrass, he was clinging to the tail with both hands for dear life, and trying to keep as far as possible away from the dangerous teeth and claws of the lion.
“Let go!” yelled Jerry.
“I dare not!” shouted the professor. “If I do the brute will fall to the ground and eat me up. I can’t let go, and I can’t hold on much longer. Hurry up, boys, and do something!”
“How did you get that way?” asked Bob.
“I’ll—tell—you—later!” panted the poor professor, as he was swung clear from the ground by a particularly energetic movement of the beast. “Hurry! Hurry! The tail is slipping through my fingers!”
In fact, this seemed to be the case, and the beast was now nearer the ground, while the length of tail the naturalist grasped was lessened.
The big cat-like creature suddenly began swinging to and fro, like a pendulum. At each swing it came closer and closer to the professor. All the while it was spitting and snarling in a rage. Suddenly the professor gave a yell louder than any he had uttered.
“Ouch! He bit me that time!” he cried. “Hurry, boys!”
The lads saw that the situation now had more of seriousness than humor in it. Jerry crept up close and, with cocked rifle, waited for a chance to fire at the beast without hitting the professor.
At that instant the lion made a strong, backward swing, and its claws caught in the professor’s trousers. The beast tried to sink its teeth in the naturalist’s legs, but with a quick movement the professor himself jumped back, and, with his own momentum and that of the lion to aid him, he swung in a complete circle around the limb of the tree, the lion going with him, so their positions were exactly reversed.
“Steady now! I have him!” called Jerry.
The change in the positions of man and beast had given the boy the very opportunity he wanted. The animal was now nearest to him. Quickly raising the rifle, Jerry sent a bullet into the brute’s head, following it up with two others. The lion, with a last wild struggle to free itself, dangled limply from the tree-limb, from which it was still suspended by the professor’s hold on its tail.
Seeing that his enemy was dead, and could do him no harm, the naturalist let go his grip and the big cat fell in a heap on the ground.
“Once more you boys have saved my life,” said the collector, as he mopped his brow, for his exertions in trying to keep free from the beast had not been easy.
“Are you bit much?” asked Ned.
“Nothing more than scratches,” was the reply.
“How in the world did you ever get in such a scrape?” asked Jerry.
“I’ll tell you how it was,” answered the professor. “You see, I was busy collecting bugs and small reptiles, going from tree to tree. When I came to this one I saw what I thought was a small, yellow snake. I believed I had a fine prize.
“I approached without making a sound, and when I was near enough I made a grab for what I imagined was the snake. Instead, it turned out to be the tail of the mountain lion, which dangled from the limb, on which the beast was crouched. All at once there was a terrible commotion.”
“I would say there was!” interrupted Ned. “We heard it over where we were.”
“Yes, of course,” resumed the professor. “Well, as soon as I got the tail in my hands I found I had made a mistake. It was then too late to let go, so the only thing to do was to hold on. It was rather a peculiar position to be in.”
“It certainly was,” said Jerry, with a laugh.
“Yes, of course. Well, seeing that the only thing to do was to keep my grip, I kept it and yelled for help. I guess the lion was as badly scared as I was first, when it felt me grab its tail. After it found I wasn’t going to let go it got mad, I guess.”
“It acted so, at any rate,” put in Bob.
“Yes, of course,” went on the professor. “Well, anyhow, I knew if I did let go I would be clawed to pieces, so there I hung, like the man on the tail of the mad bull, not daring to let go. Then you came, and you know the rest.”
“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” asked Ned.
“Sure,” was the reply. “I was too lively for the lion. I’m sorry the tail didn’t turn out to be a snake, though, for if it had been I’m sure it would have been a rare specimen.”
Leaving the dead body of the animal where it had fallen, the travelers went back to their auto. The camp utensils were packed away, and soon, with Ned at the steering wheel, the machine was running off the miles that separated the adventurers from the hidden city they hoped to find.
They traveled until nearly nightfall, and came to no village or settlement. It began to look as if they would have to camp in the open, when, just as darkness was approaching, they came to a small adobe hut in the midst of a sugar-cane plantation.
“Maybe we can stop here overnight,” said Jerry.
An aged Mexican and his wife came to the door of the cabin to see the strange fire-wagon pass. Speaking to them in Spanish, the professor asked if he and his companions could get beds for the night. At first the man seemed to hesitate, but the rattling of a few coins in Bob’s pockets soon changed his mind, and he bade the travelers enter.
The woman quickly got a fairly good meal, and then, after sitting about for an hour or so and talking over the events of the day, the travelers sought their beds. They found themselves in one apartment, containing two small, cane couches, neither one hardly big enough for a single occupant.
“However, it’s better than sleeping out of doors, where the mosquitoes can carry you away,” said Ned.
Contrary to their expectations, the travelers slept good, the only trouble being the fleas, which were particularly numerous. But by this time they had become somewhat used to this Mexican pest.
While the professor and the boys were taking a well-earned rest, quite a different scene was being enacted by Noddy Nixon and his companions.
Following a half-formed plan he had in mind, Noddy had hung on the trail of the Motor Boys. He had followed them from the inn where they last stopped, and now he was camped out, with his followers, about five miles from the adobe hut. But Jerry and his friends did not know this.
“Isn’t it pretty near time you told us what you are going to do, Noddy?” asked Jack Pender, as he piled some wood on the camp-fire.
“I’ll tell you,” spoke Noddy. “We’re going to follow them until they locate their mine, and then we’re going to stake a claim right near theirs. They’re not going to get all the gold or silver in this country the way they did in Arizona.”
“Are you sure it’s a mine they’re after?” asked Bilette, puffing at his cigarette.
“Of course,” replied Noddy. “What else could it be? Didn’t you hear that’s what they came for?”
“I don’t know,” went on the slick Mexican. “I only asked for information. If it’s a mine they’re after we’ll need a bigger force than we have to run things.”
“Where can we get help?” asked Noddy.
“I’ll show you,” replied Vasco. He put his fingers to his lips and whistled shrilly.
An instant later half a dozen Mexicans stepped from the shadow of the trees and stood in a line, in the glare of the fire.
“Well, you didn’t lose any time over it,” observed Noddy. “Where did they come from, and who are they?” and the bully looked a little uneasy.
“They came from the greenwood,” replied Vasco Bilette, “for the forest is their home. And they are friends of mine, so now both your questions are answered.”
“If they’re friends of yours I s’pose it’s all right,” went on Noddy.
“Well, rather!” drawled Vasco, lighting another cigarette from the stump of his last one.
“Will they help us?” went on Noddy.
Bilette addressed something in Spanish to his friends who had so mysteriously appeared.
“Si, señor,” they exclaimed as one man, bowing to Noddy.
“Queer you happened to have ’em on hand,” said Noddy, accepting the answer to his question, for he had learned a little Spanish, and knew that “si” meant yes.
“I anticipated we might need them,” said Bilette. “So I told them to be on hand and in waiting to-night. They are very prompt.”
“Then we’ll join forces with them and show Jerry Hopkins and his crowd that he can’t have everything his own way,” growled Noddy. “Come on, we’ll follow them now and see what they are doing,” and Noddy seemed ready to start off.
“Not to-night; it’s time to turn in,” objected Bilette. “We’ll begin early in the morning.”
He spoke once more to the six men, who disappeared into the forest as quietly as they had come. Then Bilette, wrapping himself up in his cloak, went to sleep.
The others followed his example, and soon the camp was quiet. Noddy now had his plans in working order, and he thought, with satisfaction, of the revenge he would have.
“Come, come, boys! Are you going to sleep all day?” exclaimed Professor Snodgrass, the next morning.
His cheery voice awoke the others, and they sat up on the hard cots.
“Where are we? Oh, yes, I remember now!” said Bob. “I thought I was back at the gold mine.”
“I dreamed I was back in Cresville,” added Jerry. “I wonder how all the folks are. We must write some letters home.”
After breakfast, which the Mexican and his wife served in an appetizing style, the travelers decided to delay their start an hour or two, and spend the time writing. Professor Snodgrass said he had no one to correspond with, so he wandered off with his net and specimen box, but the boys got out paper, pens and ink, and were soon busy scratching away.
In about two hours the professor returned, having collected a number of specimens and escaped getting into any difficulties or dangers for once.
“We’d better start,” he called. “I’m anxious to get to that underground city. If that turns out half as well as I expect, our fortunes are made.”
“Will it be better than the gold mine?” asked Bob, with a grin.
“The gold mine!” exclaimed the naturalist. “Why, I had rather reach this buried city than have half a dozen gold mines!”
He was very enthusiastic and seemed anxious to get on with the journey. The automobile was made ready, and, bidding their hosts good-by, the travelers were again under way.
As they progressed the road became rougher and more difficult of passage. In places it was so narrow that the automobile could barely be taken past the thick growth of foliage on either side.
The forest fairly teemed with animal life, while the flitting of brilliantly colored birds through the trees made the woods look as if a rainbow had burst and fallen from the sky. Parrots and macaws, gay in their vari-tinted plumage, called shrilly as the puffing auto invaded their domains.
It was necessary to run the car slowly. The professor fretted at the lack of speed, but nothing could be done about it, and, as Jerry said, it was better to be slow and sure. So they went on for several miles.
About noon the travelers came to the edge of a broad river, which cut in two the road they had been following.
“Here’s a problem,” said Jerry, bringing the car to a stop. “How are we going to get over that? No bridge and no ferry in sight.”
“Perhaps it isn’t as deep as it looks,” suggested the professor.
“Tell you what!” exclaimed Ned. “We’ll all go in for a swim and then we can tell whether it’s too deep to run the auto across.”
His plan was voted a good one, and soon the boys and Professor Snodgrass were splashing about in the water. Their bath was a refreshing one. Incidentally, Ned found out that he could wade across, the stream in one place coming only to his knees, while the bottom was of firm sand.
While the travelers were splashing about in the cool water, they might not have felt so unconcerned had they been able to look through the thick screen of foliage on the bank of the stream, and see what was taking place there.
Several dark-complexioned men, in company with Vasco Bilette, had dismounted from their horses and were watching the bathers.
“Well, I’m glad they decided to stop,” remarked Vasco. “Our horses are tired from following their trail. They will probably camp for the night on the other bank, for they would be foolish to go farther when they can find good water and fodder.”
“You forget they do not have a horse to consider,” spoke one of the Mexicans. “Their machine does not eat.”
“No more it does,” said Bilette. “But they cannot go much farther. If necessary, we can cross the river and get at them.”
“Is that Noddy boy and his puff-puff carriage to join us?” asked one of the crowd of Mexicans.
“That is the plan,” replied Vasco. “He thought we could follow the trail on horses better than he could in the automobile, because that makes a noise, and those we are pursuing might hear it. So Noddy has kept about five miles behind. As for us, you know that we have been only a mile in the rear, thanks to the slowness with which they had to run their machine.
“Ah, the Americanos have finished their bath. Here they come back,” went on Vasco, as the boys and the professor began wading toward the shore, near which they had left their auto.
Suddenly the professor set up a great splashing and made a grab under the water.
“I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” he yelled, holding something aloft.
“Got what?” asked Jerry.
“A rare specimen of the green-clawed crab,” was the answer, and the naturalist held up to view a wiggling crawfish. “It bit my big toe, but I grabbed it before it got away. This was indeed a profitable bath for me. That specimen is worth one hundred dollars.”
“If there are crabs in there I don’t see why there aren’t fish,” spoke Ned. “I’m going to try, anyhow.”
Quickly dressing, he got out a line and hook, cut a pole and, with a grasshopper for bait, threw in. In three minutes he had landed a fine big fish, and several others followed in succession.
“I guess we’ll have one good meal, anyhow,” observed Ned.
“Shall we stay on this side and eat, or cross the river?” asked the professor.
“Might as well stay here,” was Jerry’s opinion.
So the portable stove was made ready and soon the appetizing smell of frying fish filled the air. The travelers made a good meal, and Vasco Bilette and his gang, hiding among the trees, smoked their cigarettes and wished they had a portion.
“But never mind, when we have the Americanos at our mercy we will be the ones who eat, and they will starve,” was how Vasco consoled himself.
Dinner over, the travelers took their places in the auto, and, with Jerry at the wheel, the passage of the river was begun. Following the course Ned had tried, the machine was taken safely over the stream, and run up the opposite bank. No sooner had it got on solid ground, however, than, with a loud noise, one of the rear tires burst.
“Here’s trouble!” exclaimed Ned, as Jerry brought the car to a sudden stop.
“Might have been worse,” commented Bob. “It might have blown out while we were in the water, and that would have been no joke.”
“Right you are, Chunky,” said Jerry. “Well, I suppose we may as well camp here for a spell; at least until the repairs are made.”
He set to work to put in a new tube, Ned and Bob assisting him, while the professor wandered off after any stray specimens that might exist. He found several insects that he said were rare ones.
The fixing of the tire proved a harder job than Jerry had anticipated. It was several hours before it was repaired to suit him, and by then the sun was getting low.
“What do you say that we camp here for the night?” proposed Ned. “We can’t get on much farther anyhow, and this is a nice place. It’s more open than in the forest.”
This was voted a good plan, so a fire was made and a camp staked out. From their side of the river Vasco and his companions viewed these preparations with satisfaction.
“They cannot escape us now,” said the leader of the Mexicans. “We can easily cross the river after dark and get close to them. I wish Noddy would hurry up.”
At that instant there was the sound of wheels in the road, to the left of which Vasco and his men were concealed. In a little while Noddy, with Dalsett, Berry and Pender, rode up in the machine.
“Where are they?” asked Noddy, eagerly.
Vasco pointed through the screen of bushes to the other side of the bank, where the professor and boys were encamped.
“Good!” exclaimed Nixon. “We’ll pay them a visit to-night.”
All unconscious of the nearness of their foes, the Cresville boys, having had a good supper, sat talking about the camp-fire. The professor was engaged in sorting over the specimens he had gathered during the day.
At this same time Noddy and Dalsett, with Vasco and the six Mexicans the latter had provided, were preparing to cross the river, under cover of the darkness.
They did not undress, but waded in as they were, the gleaming camp-fire on the other side serving as a beacon to guide them.
“Softly!” cautioned Vasco, as the nine crawled up on the opposite bank, and began creeping toward the campers.
The professor and the boys were thinking of getting out their blankets and turning in for the night. They sat in a circle about the camp-fire, talking over the events of the day.
Meanwhile, creeping nearer and nearer, Noddy, Vasco and their gang were encircling the camp of Jerry and his friends. They came so close that they could hear the conversation between the professor and the boys.
Now, if the Mexicans whom Vasco had engaged to assist him had not understood something of the English language, or if chance had so arranged matters that they had not come near enough to overhear the talk of Jerry and his comrades, this story might have had a different ending.
As it was, fate so willed matters that Noddy and his gang got close to the camp in time to hear the professor remark:
“Well, boys, it will not be many more days, I hope, before we reach the buried city we are searching for. And when we do I will be the proudest man in the world. Think of discovering a buried town of ancient Mexico! Why, half the college professors would give their heads to be in my place.”
“But we haven’t found the city yet,” said Ned.
“No; but I am sure we are on the right road,” went on the professor. “I am sure of it, not only because of what the old Mexican magician told us, but from the map my friend left me. See, here it is,” and he drew out the paper with the rude drawing on.
The boys drew close to look the map over once more.
“There seem to be two roads, one branching off to the right,” remarked Jerry, pointing to the map. “And it looks as if there was some sort of an image at the parting of the ways.”
“There is!” exclaimed the professor. “I never noticed it before, but there is the laughing serpent, as sure as you’re a foot high!”
“We’ll reach the buried city all right,” spoke Bob. “I only hope we don’t come upon it too unexpectedly.”
“Well, the Mexican prophesied we would find it sooner than we thought,” observed Ned. “But he may not have meant all he said. Anyhow, I’m sleepy and I’m going to turn in.”
The others followed his example of wrapping themselves up in their blankets, and soon their deep breathing told they were on the road to slumberland.
Meanwhile, the Mexicans who had listened to the above conversation were much disturbed. Though they did not understand all that had been said, they caught enough to indicate to them that the boys and the professor were not on a search for gold or silver mines, the only things in which the Mexicans were interested.
There were angry but low-voiced mutterings among the Mexicans. Soon they became angry, talked among themselves and grew quite excited. They talked rapidly to Vasco, in Spanish.
“What does all this mean, Noddy?” asked Bilette. “Have you fooled us?”
“No, no, it’s all right!” exclaimed Nixon. “Their talk of a buried city is only a bluff to throw us off the track.”
“Hardly, when they don’t know we are following them,” said Vasco. “I’m afraid that’s not true, Noddy. Better own up and say you guessed at the whole thing.”
“I didn’t guess!” exclaimed Noddy.
“Too much talk! Not enough do!” exclaimed one of the Mexicans, striding forward and pushing Noddy to one side. Noddy resented this, and drew back his hand as if to strike the Mexican. The latter, quick as a flash, drew an ugly-looking knife.
“Put that up!” exclaimed Vasco, noting, in the darkness, his companion’s act. “We don’t want to begin fighting among ourselves.”
He stepped between Noddy and the Mexican, and pushed them away from each other. The Mexican muttered angrily, and his companions could be heard growling over the outcome of the affair. They could appreciate a gold or silver mine. A buried city was nothing to them, and they saw no use in pursuing the trail further. They were angry at Noddy for having brought them thus far on a foolish errand.
“Now keep quiet,” advised Bilette. “The first thing you know you’ll have them all aroused and then there’ll be trouble.”
“Diablo!” exclaimed one of the Mexicans, beneath his breath. “Are we fools or children? We leave the city and we travel for days through the wilderness. We are told we are to get great riches. Santa Maria! Is this money? Is this gold or silver? The crazy Americanos talk of nothing but lost cities. What care I for lost cities? What care any of us for lost cities? I hate lost cities!”
“And I! And I!” exclaimed his companions, in whispers.
“And this fellow, Noddy Nixon, is to blame for it all!” went on the angry Mexican. “He gets us all to come out here. We follow the crazy Americano who does nothing but grab bugs and toads. He is man to be afraid of! Yet we follow him, and all for what? To find he is looking for some old ruins. I will not stand it!”
“Clear out of here!” commanded Bilette. “If we stand here quarreling much longer they’ll wake up.”
Under the guidance of their leader, the Mexicans made their way back to the river bank. On the opposite shore they had left their horses and Noddy’s automobile.
“What made you think they were after a mine, Noddy?” asked Bilette, when the party was well beyond earshot of the campers. “You must have made a mistake.”
“Supposing I did,” whispered Noddy, in low tones to Vasco, “what good will it do to tell every one? I may have failed on this plan, but I have another, even better.”
“Better not try it until you find if it will work,” advised Bilette. “My men are in no mood to be fooled a second time.”
Disappointed and dejected, the Mexicans recrossed the river and made their camp on the opposite shore from Professor Snodgrass and the boys. The Mexicans were still in a surly mood, and Vasco had to keep close watch lest some one of them should harm Noddy.
Wet and cold, for if the days were hot the nights were chilly, the Nixon gang reached their camp. One of the men lighted a fire and cooked some frijoles and tortillas. The meal, simple as it was, made every one feel better.
Nixon and Pender, as soon as they had finished eating, drew off to one side, leaving the Mexicans to talk among themselves.
“It looks as if we’d have trouble,” said Noddy.
“It’s all your fault,” observed Pender.
“I’m not saying it isn’t,” put in Noddy. “But what’s the use of crying over spilled milk? The question is: What are we going to do about it now?”
Pender was silent a few minutes. Then a thought seemed to come to him suddenly.
“I have it!” he exclaimed.
“What?” asked Noddy.
Jack leaned over and whispered something in his friend’s ear. Noddy hesitated a moment, and then gave a start.
“The very thing!” he exclaimed. “I wonder I didn’t think of it before.”
He hurried to where Vasco was sitting, near the camp-fire, smoking a cigarette. To him he whispered what Pender had suggested.
“It’s a risky thing to do,” said the Mexican. “If it fails, we’ll have to leave the country. If it succeeds we’ll be in danger of heavy punishment from the authorities. However, I’m ready to risk it if you are. Shall I tell the men?”
“Of course,” replied Noddy. “I want to make it up to them for being mistaken about the mine.”
Thereupon Vasco called his friends to him, and, motioning for silence, said:
“Our friend Noddy,” he explained, “has just told me something.”
“About a gold mine?” asked one of the men, bitterly.
“It may prove to be a gold mine,” said Vasco. “But it concerns one of those across the river,” and he nodded toward the other campers.
“Did you notice one of the boys”—Bilette went on—“the fat one; the stout youth; the one they call Bob and sometimes Chunky?”
“Si! Si!” exclaimed the Mexicans.
“Well, his father is a rich banker.”
“What of it?” asked one of the men. “His money is not in Mexico.”
“But it can be brought to Mexico!” cried Vasco.
“How?”
“By kidnapping the boy and holding him for a large ransom. Will you do it?”
“We will!” yelled the men. “This will provide us with gold. We’ll kidnap the fat boy!”
“Easy! Easy!” cried Vasco Bilette. “Do you want them to hear you across the river?”
Under his caution the men subsided.
“We must follow them and watch our chance,” spoke Noddy. “We’ll demand a heavy ransom.”
“Si! Si!” agreed the Mexicans.
“That’s how we get square, Jack,” whispered Noddy to his chum.
“You bet, Noddy; and get money, too!” said Pender.
“We’ll all have to have a share,” put in Dalsett. “I’m not here for my health.”
“Me either,” remarked Bill Berry. “I need cash as much as any one.”
“We’ll share the ransom money,” said Vasco. “Now turn in, every one of you.”
Soon the camp became quiet, the only sounds heard being the movements of animals in the forest, or, now and then, the splash of a fish in the river.
The sun was scarcely above the horizon the next morning ere Vasco Bilette was astir. He took a position where he could watch the other camp, and saw the professor and the boys get their breakfast and start off.
“We’ll give them about an hour’s start,” said Vasco to Noddy. “Then the men on horses will follow and you can come, about a mile behind, in the auto. At the first opportunity we’ll capture this Bob Baker.”
Meanwhile, Jerry and his companions were going along at a moderate pace. The weather was fine though hot, and the road fairly good. For perhaps twenty miles they puffed along, and then they came to another river.
“I hope this isn’t any deeper than the other,” said Jerry.
“I’ll swim across,” volunteered Ned.
His offer was accepted, and, stripping off his outer garments, he plunged into the water. Luckily, he found the stream was about as shallow as the first one the auto had forded. He reached the opposite bank and called over.
“Come on! Fetch my clothes with you; I’m not going to swim back.”
Jerry started the machine down into the water. It went along all right until about half way across. Then there came a sudden swirl beneath the surface, a jar to the machine, and then the auto came to a stop.
“What’s the matter?” cried Jerry. “Have we struck a snag?”
“Looks more like a snag had struck us,” replied Bob, leaning over the rear seat and looking down into the water. “Something has hold of one of the back wheels.”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Jerry. “Do you suppose a fish would try to swallow an automobile, as the whale did Jonah?”
“Well, you can see for yourself,” maintained Bob. “There’s some kind of a fish, or beast, or bird, down under the water, making quite a fuss. It’s so muddy I can’t make out what it is.”
Jerry climbed over into the tonneau. Sure enough, there was some disturbance going on. Every now and then the water would swirl and eddy, and the automobile would tremble as if trying to move against some powerful force. Jerry had thrown out the gears as soon as he felt an obstruction.
Professor Snodgrass was closely observing the water.
“What do you think it is?” asked Jerry.
“It might be that it is an eddy of the water about a sink-hole, or it may be, as Bob suggests, a big fish,” replied the naturalist. “I never knew there were fish in these waters big enough to stop an auto, though.”
“It may be a whole school of fishes,” said Bob.
Just then there came a more violent agitation of the water, and the auto began to move backward slightly.
“Whatever it is, it seems bound to get us,” Jerry remarked. “Wait until I see if I can’t beat the fish or whatever it is.”
He turned on more power and threw in the first speed gear. The auto shivered and trembled, and then moved ahead slightly. But the big fish, or whatever it was, with powerful strokes of its tail began a backward pull that neutralized the action of the automobile.
“I see what it is!” cried the professor.
“What?” asked Jerry.
“A big alligator! It has one wheel in its mouth and is trying to drag us back. Hand me a rifle!”
Jerry passed over a gun. The professor, who was a good shot, leaned down over the back of the tonneau. He could just make out the ugly head of the ’gator beneath the surface. In quick succession he sent three bullets from the magazine rifle into its brain.
There was a last dying struggle of the beast, the waters swirled in a whirlpool under the lashing of the powerful tail, and then the little waves became red with blood and the alligator ceased struggling.
Once more Jerry threw the gear into place, and this time the machine went forward and reached the opposite bank.
“I thought you were never coming,” observed Ned, who was shivering in his wet undergarments. “What did you stop for? To catch fish?”
“We stopped because we had to,” replied Jerry, and he told Ned about the alligator.
“I thought you were shooting bullfrogs,” observed the swimmer as he got out some dry clothing. “Say, if we told the folks at home that a Mexican alligator tried to chew up an automobile, I wonder what they’d say?”
“The beast must have been very hungry, or else have taken us for an enemy,” remarked the professor. “I wish I could have saved him for a specimen. But I suppose it would have been a bother to carry around.”
“I think it would,” agreed Jerry. “But now we are safe, I must see if Mr. Alligator damaged the machine any.”
He looked at the wheels where the saurian had taken hold, but beyond the marks of the teeth of the beast on the spokes and rim, no harm had been done.
“Are we ready to go on now?” asked the professor, when Ned had finished dressing.
“I’d like to take a dip in the river,” said Bob. “It’s hot and dusty on the road, and we may not get another chance.”
“I think I’ll go in, too,” observed Jerry. “We are in no hurry. Will you come along, professor?”
“No; I’ll watch you,” said the naturalist. He sat down on the bank while Jerry and Chunky prepared for a dip.
They splashed around in the water near shore and had a good bath. Bob was swimming a little farther out than was Jerry.
“Better stay near shore,” cautioned the professor. “No telling when some alligators may be along.”
At that instant Bob gave a cry. He struggled in the water and gave a spring into the air.
“Something has stung me!” he cried.
Then he sank back, limp and unconscious, beneath the waves.
“Hurry!” cried the professor. “Get him out, Jerry, or he’ll be drowned!”
But Jerry had hurried to the rescue even before the professor called. Reaching down under the water he picked up his companion’s body, and, placing it over his shoulder, waded to shore with it. Bob was as limp as a rag.
“Is he killed?” asked Ned.
“I hope not,” replied the professor. “Still, he had a narrow escape.”
“Did something bite him?” asked Jerry.
The professor pointed to a small red mark on Bob’s leg.
“He received an electric shock,” said the naturalist.
“An electric shock?” echoed Ned.
“Yes; from the electric battery fish, or stinging ray, as they are sometimes called. They can give a severe shock, causing death under some circumstances, it is said. But I guess it was a young one that stung Bob. They are a fish,” the professor went on to explain, “fitted by nature with a perfect electric battery. I wish I had caught one for a specimen.”
“I didn’t think of it at the time this one stung me or I would have caught it for you,” said Bob, suddenly opening his eyes.
“Oh, you’re better, are you?” asked Jerry.
“I’m all right,” replied Bob. “It was quite a jar at first.”
“I agree with you,” put in the professor. “However, you got over it better than I expected you would. I think we had better get out of the neighborhood of this river. It seems unlucky.”
In a little while Bob was sufficiently recovered to dress. Then, having delayed only to fill the water tank of the auto from the stream, the travelers resumed their journey.
They chugged along until nightfall, and having reached no settlement, they camped in the open, and made an early start the next day. It was about noon when, having made a sudden turn of the road, they came to a place where there was a parting of the ways.
“I wonder which we shall take?” asked Ned.
“Look! Look!” cried Bob, suddenly, pointing to something ahead.
“What is it?” asked Jerry, bringing the machine up with a sudden jerk.
“See! There is the laughing serpent!” exclaimed Bob.
“The laughing serpent?” inquired Ned. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t you remember what the old Mexican said?” went on Bob. “Here is the parting of the ways, and here is the image of the laughing serpent.”
“Sure enough!” agreed the professor. “It’s an image cut out of stone, in the shape of a snake laughing. Wonderful! Wonderful!”
Right at the fork of the road and about fifteen feet from the automobile was the strange design. It was rudely cut out of stone, a serpent twining about a tree-trunk. There was nothing remarkable in the image itself except for the quaint, laughing expression the sculptor had managed to carve on the mouth of the reptile.
“I wonder how it came here?” asked Jerry, getting out of the car and going close for a better look.
“Probably a relic of the Aztec race,” replied the professor. “They were artists in their way. This must be the image the old Mexican mentioned. If it is I suppose we may as well follow his advice and take the road to the left.”
“The road to the buried city,” put in Jerry. “We must be close to it now.”
“Isn’t that something sticking in the mouth of the image?” asked Bob.
“It looks like a paper,” said Ned. “I’ll climb up and see what it is.”
He scrambled up the stone tree-trunk, about which the image of the laughing serpent was twined. Reaching up, he took from the mouth of the reptile a folded paper.
“What does it say?” called Jerry.
“It’s written in some queer language; Spanish, I guess,” replied Ned. “I can’t read it.”
“Bring it here,” said Professor Snodgrass. “Perhaps I can make it out.”
The naturalist puzzled over the writing a few minutes. Then he exclaimed:
“It’s from our old friend, the Mexican magician. He tells us to turn to the left, which is the same advice he has given us before, and he adds that we must beware of some sudden happening.”
“I wonder what he means by that?” asked Jerry.
“Probably nothing,” answered the professor. “But if something does happen, and he meets us after it, he’ll be sure to say he warned us. It’s a way those pretended wonder-workers have.”
“How do you suppose the note was placed there?” inquired Bob. “We left the Mexican many miles behind.”
“They are wonderful runners,” answered the naturalist. “The magician may not have placed it here himself, but he may have given it to a friend. Perhaps there was a relay of runners, such as used to exist among the ancient Mexicans to carry royal messages. The old Mexican, who, somehow or other, discovered our object in this country, probably wanted to impress us with his abilities in the mystifying line.”
The travelers spent a few minutes examining the queer, carved serpent. There were no other evidences of the existence of man at hand, and, except for the two roads, there was nothing to be seen but an almost unbroken forest. It was a wild part of Mexico.
“Well, what are we going to do?” asked Jerry. “Go on or stay here?”
“Go on, by all means,” said the professor. “Why, we may be only a little way from the buried city! Just think of it! There will be wealth untold for us!”
“One thing puzzles me though,” observed Bob.
“What is it, Chunky?” asked Ned.
“How are we going to know this buried city when we come to it?”
“How?” came from Jerry. “Why, I suppose there’ll be a railroad station, with the name of the city on it. Or there may be trolley cars, so we can ask the conductors if we are at the underground town. Don’t you worry about knowing the place when you get to it.”
“But if it’s underground, how are we going to find it?” persisted Bob. “It isn’t like a mine, for people who know the signs can tell where gold or silver is hidden under the ground. But a city is different.”
“I confess that question has been a puzzle to me,” admitted Professor Snodgrass. “The only thing to do is to keep on along this road until we come to the place, or see some evidence that a buried city is in the vicinity.”
“Forward, then!” cried Jerry, cranking up the auto.
They all got into the car and, proceeding at a slow speed, for the path was uncertain, started down the road leading to the left.
But all this while Noddy Nixon and Vasco Bilette, at the head of their two bands, had not been idle. Noddy kept his auto going, and Vasco and his Mexicans trotted along on horseback, drawing nearer and nearer to the travelers ahead of them.
It was about noon when the boys and the professor had started away from the image of the laughing serpent, and it was three hours later that Vasco and his men came up to it.
“Hello!” exclaimed the Mexican, staring at the carved stone. “I never saw you before, but you’re not remarkable for beauty. I wonder what you’re here for?”
He had never been in this part of Mexico before, and it was like a new country to him.
“I wonder which way those chaps took?” asked Vasco, dismounting from his horse. “It won’t do for us to take the wrong trail.”
“See!” exclaimed one of the Mexicans, pointing to where the tracks of the auto wheels could be seen, imprinted in the dust of the way leading to the left. “See! That way they go!”
“Sure enough they did, Petro!” remarked Vasco. “You have sharp eyes. Well, we’ll just wait here until Noddy comes up and sees how things are. I shouldn’t wonder but what it would be time to close in on ’em to-night. I’m getting tired of waiting. I want some money.”
“So are we all tired!” exclaimed one of the gang, speaking in Spanish, which was the language Vasco always used save in talking to his English acquaintances. “We want gold, and if the fat boy is to be carried off and held for a ransom, the sooner the better.”
“Have patience,” advised Vasco. “We’ll have him quick enough. Wait until Noddy comes.” Then he began to roll a cigarette, his example being followed by all the others.
In about an hour Noddy, Pender, Dalsett and Berry came up in the auto. A consultation was held, and it was decided to have the horsemen follow the party in front more closely.
“We’ll do the kidnapping to-night,” said Noddy. “We’ll wait until they go into camp, because that’s what they’ll have to do, for there are no inns down here. We’ll be hiding in the bushes and at the proper time we’ll grab Bob Baker and run.”
“Good!” exclaimed Vasco. “My men were beginning to get impatient.”
The plotters made a fire and prepared dinner. Then the Mexicans got out their revolvers and began cleaning them. Several also sharpened their knives.
“Look here,” began Noddy, as he saw these preparations, “there’s to be no killing, you know, Vasco.”
“Killing! Bless you, of course not,” was the reply, but Vasco winked one eye at Dalsett. “My men are only seeing that their weapons do not get rusty. Now, captain, we’re ready to start as soon as you give the word.”
“Then you may as well begin now,” was Noddy’s reply. “They have a pretty good start of us, but we’ll travel after dark, if need be, to catch up with them. As soon as they camp out for the night, Vasco, surround them so they can’t escape. Then I’ll come up in my car, and we’ll take Bob away in it.”
The horsemen started off, Noddy following in a little while. The trail made by the auto of the boys and the professor was easily followed.
Noddy’s car had barely turned around a bend in the road before something strange happened. The laughing serpent seemed to tremble and shake. It appeared alive, and about to fall to the ground.
Then a portion of the base and tree-trunk slid to one side and from the interior, which was hollow, there stepped out an old Mexican—the same who had played the part of the magician and who had given prophetic warning to the travelers.
“Ha! My trick worked!” he exclaimed. “It was a hard journey to travel all that distance and get here ahead of them. Only the fleetness of my horse and the fact that I knew all the roads that were short cuts, enabled me to do it. Now for the final act in the game!”
He placed his fingers to his mouth and blew a shrill whistle. In an instant a milk-white horse came from the bushes, where it had been concealed.
“Here, my beauty!” called the Mexican.
He leaped on the animal’s back and dashed off like the wind, down the road leading to the right.