CHAPTER XI.
UNDER TROPICAL STARS
The manager glanced at the millionaire’s startled face for a moment and then asked, his voice showing sympathy rather than curiosity:
“Unpleasant news, Mr. Havens?”
“Decidedly so!” was the reply.
The millionaire studied over the telegram for a moment and then laid it down in front of the manager.
“Read it!” he said.
The message was brief and ran as follows:
“Ralph Hubbard murdered last night! Private key to deposit box A missing from his desk!”
“Except for the information that some one has been murdered,” Mellen said, restoring the telegram to its owner, “this means little or nothing to me. I don’t think I ever knew Ralph Hubbard!”
“Ralph Hubbard,” replied the millionaire gravely, “was my private secretary at the office of the Invincible Trust Company, New York. All the papers and information collected concerning the search for Milo Redfern passed through his hands. In fact, the letter purporting to have been written and mailed on the lower East Side of New York was addressed to him personally, but in my care.”
“And deposit box A?” asked Mellen. “Pardon me,” he added in a moment, “I don’t seek to pry into your private affairs, but the passing of the telegram to me seemed to indicate a desire on your part to take me into your confidence in this matter.”
“Deposit box A,” replied the millionaire, “contained every particle of information we possess concerning the whereabouts of Milo Redfern.”
“I see!” replied Mellen. “I see exactly why you consider the murder and robbery so critically important at this time.”
“I have not only lost my friend,” Mr. Havens declared, “but it seems to me at this time that I have also lost all chance of bringing Redfern to punishment.”
“I’m sorry,” consoled Mellen.
“I don’t know what to do now,” the millionaire exclaimed. “With the information contained in deposit box A in their possession, the associates of Redfern may easily frustrate any move we may make in Peru.”
“So it seems!” mused Mellen. “But this man Redfern is still a person of considerable importance! Men who have passed out of the range of human activities seldom have power to compel the murder of an enemy many hundreds of miles away.”
“I have always believed,” Mr. Havens continued, “that the money embezzled by Redfern was largely used in building up an institution which seeks to rival the Invincible Trust Company.”
“In that case,” the manager declared, “the whole power and influence of this alleged rival would be directed toward the continued absence from New York of Redfern.”
“Exactly!” the millionaire answered.
“Then why not look in New York first?” asked Mellen.
“Until we started away on this trip,” was the reply, “we had nothing to indicate that the real clew to the mystery lay in New York.”
“Did deposit box A contain papers connecting Redfern’s embezzlement with any of the officials of the new trust company?” asked the manager.
“Certainly!” was the reply.
The manager gave a low whistle of amazement and turned to his own telegrams. The millionaire sat brooding in his chair for a moment and then left the room. At the door of the building, he met Sam Weller.
“Mr. Havens,” the young man said, drawing the millionaire aside, “I want permission to use one of your machines for a short time to-night.”
“Granted!” replied Mr. Havens with a smile.
“I’ve got an idea,” Sam continued, “that I can pick up valuable information between now and morning. I may have to make a long flight, and so I’d like to take one of the boys with me if you do not object.”
“They’ll all want to go,” suggested the millionaire.
“I know that,” laughed Sam, “and they’ve been asleep all day, and will be prowling around asking questions while I’m getting ready to leave. I don’t exactly know how I’m going to get rid of them.”
“Which machine do you want?” asked Mr. Havens.
“The Ann, sir, if it’s all the same to you.”
“You’re quite welcome to her,” the millionaire returned.
“Well, then, with your permission,” continued Sam, “I’ll smuggle Jimmie out to the field and we’ll be on our way. The machine has plenty of gasoline on board, I take it, and is perfect in other ways?”
“I believe her to be in perfect condition, and well supplied with fuel,” was the answer. “She’s the fastest machine in the world right now.”
Sam started away, looking anything but a tramp in his new clothes, but turned back in a moment and faced his employer.
“If we shouldn’t be back by morning,” he said, then, “don’t do any worrying on our account. Start south in your machines and you’ll be certain to pick us up somewhere between Quito and Lake Titicaca. If you don’t pick us up within a day or two,” the boy continued in a hesitating tone, “you’ll find a letter addressed to yourself at the local post-office.”
“Look here, Sam,” suggested Mr. Havens, “why don’t you tell me a little more about yourself and your people?”
“Sometime, perhaps, but not now,” was the reply. “The letter, you understand,” he continued, “is not to be opened until you have reasonable proof of my death.”
“I understand!” the millionaire answered. “But here’s another thing,” he added, “you say that we may find you between Quito and Lake Titicaca. Are you acquainted with that region?”
“Well, I know something about it!” replied Sam. “You see,” he continued, “when I left your employ in the disgraceful manner which will at once occur to you, I explained to Old Civilization that she might go and hang herself for all of me. I ducked into the wilderness, and since that time I’ve spent many weeks along what is known as the roof of the world in Peru.”
“I wish you luck in your undertaking!” Mr. Havens said as the young man turned away, “and the only advice I give you at parting is that you take good care of yourself and Jimmie and enter upon no unnecessary risks!”
“That’s good advice, too!” smiled Sam, and the two parted with a warm clasp of the hands.
After leaving the millionaire aviator at the telegraph office, Sam hastened to the hotel where the boys were quartered and called Jimmie out of the little group in Ben’s room. They talked for some moments in the corridor, and then Jimmie thrust his head in at the half-open door long enough to announce that he was going out with Sam to view the city. The boys were all on their feet in an instant.
“Me, too!” shouted Ben.
“You can’t lose me!” cried Carl.
Glenn was at the door ready for departure with the others.
“No, no!” said Sam shaking his head. “Jimmie and I are just going out for a little stroll. Unfortunately I can take only one person besides myself into some of the places where I am going.”
The boys shut the door with a bang, leaving Carl on the outside. The lad turned the knob of the door and opened and closed it to give the impression that he, too, had returned to the apartment. Then he moved softly down the corridor and, still keeping out of sight, followed Sam and Jimmie out in the direction of the field where the machines had been left.
The two conversed eagerly, sometimes excitedly during the walk, but of course, Carl could hear nothing of what was being said. There was quite a crowd assembled around the machines, and so Carl had little difficulty in keeping out of sight as he stepped close to the Ann. After talking for a moment or two with one of the officers in charge of the machines, Sam and Jimmie leaped into the seats and pushed the starter.
As they did so Jimmie felt a clutch at his shoulders, and then a light body settled itself in the rather large seat beside him.
“You thought you’d get away, didn’t you?” grinned Carl.
“Look here!” shouted Jimmie as the powerful machine swept across the field and lifted into the air, “you can’t go with us!”
“Oh, I can’t?” mocked Carl. “I don’t know how you’re going to put me off! You don’t want to stop the machine now, of course!”
“But, see here!” insisted Jimmie, “we’re going on a dangerous mission! We’re likely to butt into all kinds of trouble. And, besides,” he continued, “Sam has provisions for only two. You’ll have to go hungry if you travel with us. We’ve only five or six meals with us!”
“So you’re planning a long trip, eh?” scoffed Carl. “What will the boys say about your running off in this style?”
“Oh, keep still!” replied Jimmie. “We’re going off on a mission for Mr. Havens! You never should have butted in!”
“Oh, let him go!” laughed Sam, as the clamor of the motors gradually made conversation impossible. “Perhaps he’ll freeze to death and drop off before long. I guess we’ve got food enough!”
There was no moon in the sky as yet, but the tropical stars looked down with surprising brilliancy. The country below lay spread out like a great map. As the lights of Quito faded away in the distance, dark mountain gorges which looked like giant gashes in the face of mother earth, mountain cones which seemed to seek companionship with the stars themselves, and fertile valleys green because of the presence of mountain streams, swept by sharply and with the rapidity of scenes in a motion-picture house.
As had been said, the Ann had been constructed for the private use of the millionaire aviator, and was considered by experts to be the strongest and swiftest aeroplane in the world. On previous tests she had frequently made as high as one hundred miles an hour on long trips. The motion of the monster machine in the air was so stable that the millionaire had often taken prizes for endurance which entitled him to medals for uninterrupted flights.
Jimmie declares to this day that the fastest express train which ever traveled over the gradeless lines of mother earth had nothing whatever on the flight of the Ann that night! Although Sam kept the machine down whenever possible, there were places where high altitudes were reached in crossing cone summits and mountain chains.
At such times the temperature was so low that the boys shivered in their seat, and more than once Jimmie and Carl protested by signs and gestures against such high sailing.
At two o’clock when the moon rose, bringing every detail of the country into bold relief, Sam circled over a green valley and finally brought the aeroplane down to a rest hardly more than four thousand feet above sea-level. It was warm here, of course, and the two boys almost dropped from their seat as the fragrant air of the grass-grown valley reached their nostrils. While Sam busied himself with the running gear of the flying machine, Jimmie and Carl sprawled out on the lush grass and compared notes. The moonlight struck the valley so as to illuminate its western rim while the eastern surface where the machine lay was still heavy in shadows.
“Jiminy!” exclaimed Jimmie, lifting himself on one elbow and gazing at the wrinkled cones standing all around the valley. “I wonder how Sam ever managed to drop into this cosy little nest without breaking all our necks.”
Sam, who seemed to be unaffected by the cold and the strain of the long flight, stood, oil-can in hand, when the question was asked. In a moment he walked over to where the boys lay.
“I can tell you about that,” he said with a smile. “Not long ago I had a job running an old ice-wagon of an aeroplane over this country for a naturalist. We passed this spot several times, and at last came back here for a rest. Not to put too fine a point upon it, as Micawber would say, we remained here so long that I became thoroughly acquainted with the country. It is a lonesome little valley, but a pleasant one.”
“Well, what did we come here for?” asked Carl, in a moment, “and how far are we from Quito? Seems like a thousand miles!”
“We are something like four hundred miles from the capital city of Ecuador,” Sam replied, “and the reason why we landed here will be disclosed when you chase yourselves along the valley and turn to the right around the first cliff and come face to face with the cunningest little lake you ever saw, also the haunted temple which stands there!”
CHAPTER XII.
THE HAUNTED TEMPLE
“A haunted temple?” echoed Jimmie. “I thought the haunted temples were a lot farther south.”
“There are haunted temples all over Peru, if you leave it to the natives,” answered Sam. “Whenever there is a reason for keeping strangers away from such ruins as we are about to visit, the ghosts come forth at night in white robes and wave weird lights above skeleton faces.”
“Quit it!” cried Carl. “I’ve got the creeps running up and down my back right now! Bring me my haunted temples by daylight!”
“Yes,” scorned Jimmie, “we’ll bring you a little pet ghost in a suit-case. That would be about your size!”
“Honest,” grinned the boy, “I’m scared half to death.”
“What’s the specialty of the ghosts who inhabit this ruined temple?” asked Jimmie. “Can’t you give us some idea of their antics?”
“If I remember correctly,” Sam replied, with a laugh, “the specialty of the spirits to whom I am about to introduce you consists of low, soft music. How does that suit?”
“I tell you to quit it!” cried Carl.
“After I prepare the aeroplane for another run,” Sam went on, with a grin, “I’ll take you around to the temple, if you like.”
“Mother of Moses!” cried Carl. “My hair’s all on end now; and I won’t dare look into a mirror in the morning for fear I’ll find it turned white.”
“There’s a strange feeling in my system, too!” Jimmie declared, “but I think it comes from a lack of sustenance.”
“Jimmie,” declared Carl reproachfully, “I believe you would pick the pocket of a wailing ghost of a ham sandwich, if he had such a thing about him!”
“Sure I would!” answered the boy. “What would a ghost want of a ham sandwich? In those old days the people didn’t eat pork anyway. If you read the history of those days, you’ll find no mention of the wriggly little worms which come out of pigs and made trouble for the human race.”
“Well, if you’re ready now,” Sam broke in, “we’ll take a walk around the corner of the cliff and see if the ghosts are keeping open house to-night.”
“You really don’t believe in these ghosts, do you?” asked Jimmie.
“I do not!” was the reply.
“There ain’t no such animal, is there?” asked Carl.
“I have never witnessed any ‘supernatural’ things,” Sam answered, “which could not be traced eventually to some human agency. Usually to some interested human agency.”
“Well,” grinned Carl, “if there ain’t any ghosts at this ruined temple, what’s the use of my going there to see them?”
“You may remain and watch the machine if you care to,” Sam replied. “While we are supposed to be in a valley rarely frequented by human kind, it may be just as well to leave some one on guard. For instance,” the young man went on, “a jaguar might come along and eat up the motors!”
“Jaguars?” exclaimed Carl. “Are they the leopard-like animals that chase wild horses off the pampas of Brazil, and devour men whenever they get particularly hungry?”
“The same!” smiled Sam.
“Then I want to see the ghosts!” exclaimed Carl.
“Come along, then,” advised Sam.
“If you didn’t know Carl right well,” Jimmie explained, as they walked along, “you’d really think he’d tremble at the sight of a ghost or a wild animal, but he’s the most reckless little idiot in the whole bunch! He’ll talk about being afraid, and then he’ll go and do things that any boy in his right mind ought not to think of doing.”
“I had an idea that that was about the size of it!” smiled Sam.
Presently the party turned the angle of the cliff and came upon a placid little mountain lake which lay glistening under the moonlight.
“Now, where’s your ruined temple?” asked Carl.
“At the southern end of the lake,” was the reply.
“I see it!” cried Jimmie. “There’s a great white stone that might have formed part of a tower at one time, and below it is an opening which looks like an entrance to the New York subway with the lights turned off.”
The old temple at the head of the lake had frequently been visited by scientists and many descriptions of it had been written. It stood boldly out on a headland which extended into the clear waters, and had evidently at one time been surrounded by gardens.
“I don’t see anything very mysterious about that!” Carl remarked. “It looks to me as if contractors had torn down a cheap old building in order to erect a skyscraper on the site, and then been pulled off the job.”
“Wait until you get to it!” warned Jimmie.
“I’m listening right now for the low, soft music!” laughed Carl.
“Does any one live there?” asked Jimmie in a moment.
“As the place is thought by the natives to be haunted,” Sam answered, “the probability is that no one has set foot inside the place since the naturalist and myself explored its ruined corridors several weeks ago.”
The boys passed farther on toward the temple, and at last paused on the north side of a little arm of the lake which would necessitate a wide detour to the right.
From the spot where they stood, the walls of the temple glittered as if at sometime in the distant past they had been ornamented with designs in silver and gold. The soft wind of the valley sighed through the openings mournfully, and it required no vigorous exercise of the imagination to turn the sounds into man-made music.
The boys looked at each other significantly.
“Come on, Jimmie,” Carl shouted. “Let’s go and get a front seat. The concert is just about to begin!”
“There is no hurry!” Jimmy answered.
While the three stood viewing the scene, one which never passed from their memory, a tall, stately figure passed out of the entrance to the old temple and moved with dignified leisure toward the margin of the lake.
“Now, who’s that?” demanded Carl.
“The names of the characters appear on the program in the order of their entrance!” suggested Jimmie.
“Honest, boys,” Sam whispered, “I think you fellows deserve a medal apiece. Instead of being awed and frightened, standing as you do in the presence of the old temple, and seeing, as you do, the mysterious figure moving about, one would think you were occupying seats at a minstrel show!”
“You said yourself,” insisted Jimmie, “that there wasn’t any such thing as ghosts.”
“That’s right,” exclaimed Carl. “What’s the use of getting scared at something that doesn’t exist?”
“The only question in my mind at the present time,” Jimmie went on, with a grin, “is just this: Is that fellow over there carrying a gun?”
While the boys talked in whispers, Sam had been moving slowly to the west so as to circle the little cove which separated him from the temple.
In a moment the boys saw him beckoning them to him and pointing toward the ruins opposite.
The figure which had been before observed was now standing close to the lip of the lake, waving his hands aloft, as if in adoration or supplication. This posture lasted only a second and then the figure disappeared as if by magic.
There were the smooth waters of the lake with the ruined temple for a background. There were the moonbeams bringing every detail of the scene into strong relief. Nothing had changed, except that the person who a moment before had stood in full view had disappeared as if the earth had opened at his feet.
“Now what do you think of that?” demanded Jimmie.
“Say,” chuckled Carl, “do you think that fellow is custodian of the temple, and has to do that stunt every night, the same as a watchman in New York has to turn a key in a clock every hour?”
Jimmie nudged his chum in the ribs in appreciation of the observation, and then stood silent, his eyes fixed on the broken tower across the cove.
While he looked a red light burned for an instant at the apex of the old tower, and in an instant was followed by a blue light farther up on the cliff. The boys remained silent, wondering.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Carl insisted, in a moment. “Do you think they pull off this stunt here every night?”
“Oh, keep still!” exclaimed Jimmie. “They don’t have to pull it off every night. They only put the play on when there’s an audience.”
“An audience?” repeated Carl. “How do they know they’ve got an audience?”
“Chump!” replied Jimmie scornfully. “Do you think any one can sail an aeroplane like the Ann over this country without its being seen? Of course they know they’ve got an audience.”
By this time the boys had advanced to the place where Sam was standing. They found that young man very much interested in the proceedings, and also very much inclined to silence.
“Did you see anything like that when you were here before?” asked Jimmie. “Did they put the same kind of a show on for you?”
Sam shook his head gravely.
“Well, come on!” Carl cried. “Let’s chase around the cove and get those front seats you spoke about.”
“Wait, boys!” Sam started to say, but before the words were well out of his mouth the two lads were running helter-skelter along the hard white beach which circled the western side of the cove.
“Come back!” he called to them softly. “It isn’t safe.”
The boys heard the words but paid no heed, so Sam followed swiftly on in pursuit. He came up with them only after they had reached the very steps which had at some distant time formed an imposing entrance to a sacred temple.
“What are you going to do?” he demanded.
“We’re going inside!” replied Carl. “What do you think we came here for? I guess we’ve got to see the inside.”
“Don’t take any unnecessary risks!” advised Sam.
“What’d you bring us here for?” asked Carl.
“Oh, come on!” exclaimed Jimmie. “Let’s all go in together!”
Sam hesitated, but the boys seized him by the arms and almost forced him along. In a moment, however, he was as eager as the others.
“Do you mean to say,” asked Jimmie, as they paused for a moment on a broad stone slab which lay before the portal of the ruined temple, “that you went inside on your former visit?”
“I certainly did!” was the reply.
“Then why are you backing up now?” asked Carl.
“On my previous visit,” Sam explained, standing with his back against the western wall of the entrance, “there were no such demonstrations as we have seen to-night. Now think that over, kiddies, and tell me what it means. It’s mighty puzzling to me!”
“Oh, we’ve got the answer to that!” exclaimed Jimmie. “Did you come here in an aeroplane, or did you walk in?”
“We came in on an aeroplane, early in the morning,” was the reply.
“That’s the answer!” exclaimed Jimmie. “The people who are operating these ghost stunts did not know you were coming because they saw no lights in the sky. Now we came down with a noise like an express train and a great big acetylene lamp burning full blast. Don’t you see?”
“That’s the idea!” Carl cried. “The actors and stage hands all disappeared as soon as you showed around the angle of the cliff.”
“But why should they go through what you call their stunts at this time, and not on the occasion of my former visit?” asked Sam.
“I’ll tell you,” replied Jimmie wrinkling his freckled nose, “there’s some one who is interested in the case which called us to Peru doing those stunts.”
“In that case,” Sam declared, “they have a definite reason for keeping us out of this particular ruin!”
“That’s the idea!” exclaimed Jimmie. “So far as we know, this man Redfern or some of his associates may be masquerading as ghosts.”
“I came to this temple to-night,” explained Sam, “thinking that perhaps this might be one of the way stations on the road to Lake Titicaca.”
“You have guessed it!” exclaimed Jimmie. “The men who have been sent south to warn Redfern are doing their first stunts here!”
“And that,” said Sam, “makes our position a dangerous one!”