Tom Swift in the City of Gold
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Victor Appleton >> Tom Swift in the City of Gold
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"Followed!" murmured Tom. "I wonder--" -From his valise he took a
small but powerful telescope. In the fast-fading light he focused it
on the two ox carts. The next moment he uttered an exclamation of
anger and dismay.
"Who is it?" asked Ned, though he was almost sure what the answer
would be.
"Andy Foger and his father!" cried Tom. "I might have known they'd
follow us--to learn--" and then he stopped, for Senor Delazes was
regarding him curiously.
CHAPTER XIV
A WEARY SEARCH
"Are you sure it's them?" asked Ned.
"Bless my toothpick!" cried Mr. Damon. "It isn't possible, Tom?"
"Yes, it is," said the young inventor. "It's the Fogers all right.
Take a look for yourself, Ned."
The other lad did, and confirmed his chum's news, and then Mr. Damon
also made sure, by using the glass.
"No doubt of it," the odd man said. "But what are you going to do,
Tom?"
Our hero thought for a moment. Then, once more, he looked
steadfastly through the glass at the other carts. The occupants of
them did not appear to know that they were under observation, and at
that distance they could not have made out our friends without a
telescope. Tom ascertained that the Fogers were not using one.
"Has Senor Swift any orders?" asked Delazes. "Who are these Fogers?
Enemies of yours I take it. Why should they follow you merely to
find a ruined city, that the ruins and relics may be studied?"
"Here are the orders," spoke Tom, a bit sharply, not answering the
question. "We'll camp and have supper, and then we'll go on and make
all the distance we can after dark."
"What, travel at night?" cried the Mexican, as if in horror at the
suggestion.
"Yes; why not?" asked Tom calmly. "They can't see us after dark, and
if we can strike off on another trail we may throw them off our
track. Surely we'll travel after supper."
"But it will be night--dark--we never work after dark," protested
Delazes.
"You're going to this time," declared Tom grimly.
"But the oxen--they are not used to it."
"Nothing like getting used to a thing," went on the young inventor.
"They won't mind after a rest and a good feed. Besides, there is a
moon to-night, and it will be plenty light enough. Tell the men,
Senor Delazes."
"But they will protest. It is unheard of, and--"
"Send them to me," said Tom quickly. "There'll be double pay for
night work. Send them to me."
"Ah, that is good. Senor Swift. Double pay! I think the men will not
object," and with a greedy look in his black eyes the Mexican
contractor hastened to tell his men of the change of plans.
Tom took another look at the approaching Fogers. Their carts were
slowly crawling up the trail, and as Tom could plainly see them, he
made no doubt but that his caravan was also observed by Andy and his
father.
"I guess that's the best plan to throw them off," agreed Ned, when
they were once more underway. "But how are you going to explain to
Delazes, Tom, the reason the Fogers are following us? He'll get
suspicious, I'm afraid."
"Let him. I'm not going to explain. He can think what he likes, I
can't stop him. More than likely though, that he'll put it down to
some crazy whim of us 'Americanos.' I hope he does. We can talk
loudly, when he's around, about how we want to get historical
relics, and the Fogers are after the same thing. There have been
several expeditions down this way from rival colleges or museums
after Aztec relics, and he may think we're one of them. For the
golden images are historical relics all right," added Tom in a lower
voice.
The Mexicans made no objections to continuing on after supper, once
they learned of the double pay, and a little later they went into
camp. A turn of the trial hid the Fogers from sight, but Tom and his
friends had no doubt but what they were still following.
It was rather novel, traveling along by the light of the brilliant
moon, and the boys and Mr. Damon thoroughly enjoyed it. Orders had
been given to proceed as quietly as possible, for they did not want
the Fogers to learn of the night trip.
"They may see us," Tom had said when they were ready to start, "but
we've got to take a chance on that. If the trail divides, however,
we can lose them."
"It does separate, a little farther on," Delazes had said.
"Good!" cried Tom, "then we'll fool our rival relic hunters and our
museum will get the benefit." He said this quite loudly.
"Ah, then you want the relics for a museum?" asked the Mexican
contractor quickly.
"Yes, if they pay enough," replied Tom, and he meant it, for he had
no doubt that many museums would be glad to get specimens of the
golden images.
Just as they were about to start off Tom had swept the moonlit trail
with his night-glass, but there was no sign of the Fogers, though
they may have seen their rivals start off.
"Let her go!" ordered Tom, and they were once more underway.
It was about five miles to where the trail divided, and it was
midnight when they got there, for the going was not easy.
"Now, which way," asked Delazes, as the caravan came to a halt. "To
the left or right?"
"Let me see," mused Tom, trying to remember the map the African
missionary had sent him. "Do these roads come together farther on?"
"No, but there is a cross trail about twenty miles ahead by which
one can get from either of these trails to the other."
"Good!" cried the young inventor. "Then we'll go to the right, and
we can make our way back. But wait a minute. Send a couple of carts
on the left trail for about two miles. We'll wait here until they
come back."
"The senor is pleased to joke," remarked the Mexican quickly.
"I never was more earnest in all my life," replied Tom.
"What's the answer?" asked Ned.
"I want to fool the Fogers. If they see cart tracks on both roads
they won't know which one we took. They may hit on the right one
first shot, and again, they may go to the left until they come to
the place where our two carts turn back. In that case we'll gain a
little time."
"Good!" cried Ned. "I might have known you had a good reason, Tom."
"Send on two carts," ordered the young inventor, and now Delazes
understood the reason for the strategy. He chuckled as he ordered
two of the drivers to start off, and come back after covering a
couple of miles.
It was rather dreary waiting there at the fork of the trail, and to
beguile the time Tom ordered fires lighted and chocolate made. The
men appreciated this, and were ready to start off again when their
companions returned.
"There," announced Tom, when they were on the way once more, "I
think we've given them something to think over at any rate. Now for
a few more miles, and then we'll rest until morning."
All were glad enough when Tom decided to go into camp, and they
slept later than usual the next morning. The trail was now of such a
character that no one following them could be detected until quite
close, so it was useless to worry over what the Fogers might do.
"We'll just make the best time we can, and trust to luck," Tom said.
They traveled on for two days more, and saw nothing of the Fogers.
Sometimes they would pass through Mexican villages where they would
stop to eat, and Tom would make inquiries about the ancient city of
Poltec and the plain of the ruined temple. In every case the
Mexicans shook their heads. They had never heard of it. Long before
this Tom had ascertained that neither Delazes nor any of his men
knew the location of this plain nor had they ever heard of it.
"If there is such a place it must be far in--very far in," the
contractor had said. "You will never find it."
"Oh, yes, I will," declared Tom.
But when a week passed, and he was no nearer it than at first even
Tom began to get a little doubtful. They made inquiries at every
place they stopped, of villagers, of town authorities, and even in
some cases of the priests who obligingly went over their ancient
church records for them. But there was no trace of the temple plain,
and of course none of the city of gold.
Peasants, journeying along the road, parties of travelers, and often
little bodies of soldiers were asked about the ruined temple, but
always the answer was the same. They had never heard of it, nor of
the head-hunters either.
"Well, I'm glad of the last," said Mr. Damon, looking apprehensively
around, while Eradicate of his head to see if it was still fast on
his shoulders.
It was a weary search, and when two weeks had passed even Tom had to
admit that it was not as easy as it had seemed at first. As for the
Mexicans, they kept on, spurred by the offer of good wages. Delazes
watched Tom narrowly, for a sign or hint of what the party was
really after, but the young inventor and his friends guarded their
secret well.
"But I'm not going to give up!" cried Tom. "Our map may be wrong,
and likely it is, but I'm sure we're near the spot, and I'm going to
keep on. If we don't get some hint of it in a few days, though, I'll
establish a camp, go up in the air and see what I can pick out from
the balloon."
"That's the stuff!" cried Ned. "It will be a relief from these rough
ox carts."
So for the next few days they doubled and redoubled on their trail,
criss-crossing back and forth, ever hoping to get some trace of the
temple, which was near the entrance to the city of gold. In all that
time nothing was seen of the Fogers.
"We'll try the balloon to-morrow," decided Tom, as they went into
camp one night after a weary day. Every one was tired enough to
sleep soundly under the tents which were set up over the carts, in
which beds were laid. It must have been about midnight when Tom, who
felt a bit chilly (for the nights were cool in spite of the heat of
the day), got up to look at the campfire. It was almost out so he
went over to throw on some more logs.
As he did so he heard a noise as if something or somebody had leaped
down out of a tree to the ground. A moment later, before he could
toss on the sticks he had caught up, Tom was aware of two eyes of
greenish brightness staring at him in the glow of the dying fire,
and not ten feet away.
CHAPTER XV
THE GOLDEN IMAGE
For a moment the young inventor felt a cold chill run down his
spine, and, while his hair did not actually "stand up" there was a
queer sensation on his scalp as if the hairs WANTED to stand on end,
but couldn't quite manage it.
Involuntarily Tom started, and one of the sticks he held in his hand
dropped to the ground. The green eyes shifted--they came nearer, and
the lad heard a menacing growl. Then he knew it was some wild animal
that had dropped down from a tree and was now confronting him, ready
to spring on the instant.
Tom hardly knew what to do. He realized that if he moved it might
precipitate an attack on him, and he found himself dimly wondering,
as he stood there, what sort of an animal it was.
He had about come to the conclusion that it was something between a
cougar and a mountain lion, and the next thought that came to him
was a wonder whether any one else in the camp was awake, and would
come to his rescue.
He half turned his head to look, when again there came that menacing
growl, and the animal came a step nearer. Evidently every movement
Tom made aroused the beast's antagonism, and made him more eager to
come to the attack.
"I've got to keep my eyes on him," mused the lad. "I wonder if
there's any truth in the old stories that you can subdue a wild
beast with your eyes--by glaring at him. But whether that's so or
not, I've got to do it--keep looking him in the face, for that's all
I can do."
True, Tom held in his hand some light sticks, but if it came to a
fight they would be useless. His gun was back in the tent, and as
far as he could learn by listening there was not another soul in the
camp awake.
Suddenly the fire, which had almost died out, flared up, as a dying
blaze sometimes will, and in the bright glare the young inventor was
able to see what sort of beast confronted him. He saw the tawny,
yellow body, the twitching tail, the glaring eyes and the cruel
teeth all too plainly, and he made up his mind that it was some
species of the cougar family. Then the embers flared out and it was
darker than before. But it was not so dark but what Tom could still
see the glaring eyes.
"I've got to get away from him--scare him--or shoot him," the lad
decided on the instant. "I'd like to bowl him over with a bullet,
but how can I get my gun?"
He thought rapidly. The gun was in the tent back of him, near where
he had been sleeping. It was fully loaded.
"I've got to get it," reflected Tom, and then he dropped the other
sticks in his hand. Once more the beast growled and came a step
nearer--soft, stealthy steps they were, too, making no sound on the
ground.
Then Tom started to make a cautious retreat backwards, the while
keeping his eyes focused on those of the beast. He made up his mind
that he would give that "hypnotism" theory a trial, at any rate.
But at his first backward step the beast let out such a fierce
growl, and came on with such a menacing leap that Tom stood still in
very terror. The animal was now so close to him that a short jump
would hurl the beast upon the lad.
"This won't do," thought Tom. "Every time I go back one step he
comes on two, and it won't take him long to catch up to me. And
then, too, he'll be in the tent in another minute, clawing Ned or
Mr. Damon. What can I do? Oh, for a gun!"
He stood still, and this seemed to suit the animal, for it remained
quiet. But it never took its eyes off Tom, and the switching tail,
and the low growls now and then, plainly indicated that the beast
was but waiting its time to leap and give the death blow.
Then an idea came to Tom. He remembered that he had once read that
the human voice had a wonderful effect on wild animals. He would try
it.
"And I'm not going to sing him any slumber song, either," mused Tom.
"I'll start on a low tone to call for Ned, and gradually raise my
voice until I wake him up. Then I'll tell Ned to draw a bead on the
beast and plunk him while I hold his attention."
Tom lost no time in putting his plan into operation.
"Ned! Ned! Say, old man, wake up! I'm in trouble! There's a beast as
big as a lion out here. Ned! Ned! Ned!"
Tom began in a low voice, but increased his tones with each word. At
first the beast seemed uneasy, and then it stepped switching its
tail and just glared at Tom.
"Ned! I say Ned! Wake up!"
Tom listened. All was silent within the tent.
"Ned! Oh, Ned!"
Louder this time, but still silence.
"Hey, Ned! Are you ever going to wake up! Get your gun! Your gun!
Shoot this beast! Ned! Ned!"
Tom waited. It seemed as if the beast was nearer to him. He called
once more.
"Ned! Ned!" He was fairly shouting now. Surely some one must hear
him.
"What's that? What's the matter? Tom? Where are you?"
It was Ned's voice--a sleepy voice--and it came from the interior of
the tent.
"Here!" called Tom. "Out in front--by the fire--get your gun, and
get him with the first shot, or it's all up with yours truly."
"Get who with the first shot. Who are you talking about?"
"This cougar! Hurry Ned, he's creeping nearer!"
Tom heard a movement behind him. He dared not turn his head, but he
knew it was his chum. Then he heard a gasp and he knew that Ned had
seen the beast. Then all Tom could do was to wait. And it was not
easy waiting. At any moment the beast might spring, and, as far as
he was concerned it would be all over.
Nearer and nearer crept the brute. Again Tom felt that queer
sensation down his spine.
"Hurry, Ned," he whispered.
"All right," came back the reassuring answer.
There was a moment of silence.
Crack! A sliver of flame cut the darkness. There was a report that
sounded like a cannon, and it was followed by an unearthly scream.
Instinctively Tom leaped back as he saw the greenish eyes change
color.
The young inventor felt a shower of dirt thrown over him by the
claws of the dying cougar, and then he realized that he was safe. He
raced toward the tent, to be met by Ned, and the next instant the
camp was in wild commotion.
"Bless my slippers!" cried Mr. Damon. "What has happened. Tell me at
once?"
"Fo' de lob of chicken!" yelled Eradicate from a tent he had all to
himself--the cook tent.
"Santa Maria! Ten thousand confusions! What is it?" fairly screamed
Delazes.
"Are you all right, Tom?" called Ned.
"Sure. It was a good shot."
And then came explanations. Wood was thrown on the fire, and as the
Mexicans gathered around the blaze they saw, twitching in the death
throes, a big cougar, or some animal allied to it. Neither Tom nor
his friends had ever seen one just like it, and the Mexican name for
it meant nothing to them. But it was dead, and Tom was saved and the
way he grasped Ned's hand showed how grateful he was, even if he did
not say much.
Soon the excitement died out, after Tom had related his experience,
and though it was some time before he and the others got to sleep
again, they did finally, and the camp was once more quiet.
An early start was made the next day, for Tom had reconsidered his
determination to assemble the balloon and explore in that air craft,
And the reason for his reconsideration was this:
They had not gone far on their journey before they met a solitary
Mexican, and of him they asked the usual question about the plain of
the temple.
He knew nothing, as might have been expected, but he stated that
there was a large village not far distant in which dwelt many old
Mexicans.
"They might know something," he said.
"It's worth trying," decided Tom. "I'll wait until to-morrow about
the balloon. We can make the village by noon, I guess. Perhaps we
can get a clew there."
But it was nearly night when the ox carts drew into the Mexican
settlement, for there was an accident in the afternoon, one of the
vehicles breaking down.
There were fires blazing in many places in the village, which was
one of the most primitive sort, when our friends entered. They were
curiously watched as they drove through on their way to a good
camping site beyond.
And here, once more, fate stepped in to aid Tom in his search for
the city of gold.
As they were out of corn meal, and needed some for supper, Tom told
Eradicate to stop at one of the larger houses to buy some. The lad
followed the colored man into the building, which seemed to be used
by several families.
"We'll be obliged to yo' all fo' some corn meal," began Eradicate,
picking out an aged Mexican to whom he addressed his request.
"What is it?" asked the Mexican in Spanish.
Tom put the question in that language, and he was on the point of
explaining that they were travelers, when he stopped midway, and
stared at something on a rude shelf in the main room of the house.
"Look! Look, Ned!" whispered Tom.
"What is it?" asked his chum.
"On that shelf! That image! The image of gold! One just like the
drawing Mr. Illingway sent from Africa! Ned, we're on the trail at
last, for there is one of the small images from the city of gold!"
and Tom, with a hand that trembled in spite of himself, pointed at
the small, yellow figure.
CHAPTER XVI
THE MAP ON THE GOLD
Naturally, when Tom pointed at the golden image, the eyes of all the
Mexicans in the room, as well as those of the friends of the young
inventor, followed. For a moment there was silence and then the aged
Mexican, whom Eradicate had asked for corn meal, rapidly uttered
something in Spanish.
"Yes! Yes!" chorused his companions, and they followed this up, by
crying aloud when he had said something else: "No! No!" Then there
was confused talking, seemingly directed at Tom, who, though he had
lowered his hand, continued to stare at the golden image.
"What in the world are they saying?" asked Ned, who only knew a
little Spanish.
"I can't get on to all of it," explained Tom above the confusion.
"Evidently they think we've come to take the image away from them
and they are objecting."
"Offer to buy it then," suggested Ned.
"That's what I'm going to do," answered Tom, and once more
addressing the aged Mexican, who seemed to be at the head of the
household, Tom offered to purchase the relic which meant so much to
him, agreeing to pay a large sum.
This seemed to create further confusion, and one of the women of the
household hastily took down the little statute and was carrying it
into an inner room, when Miguel Delazes came up. He looked into the
open doorway, glanced about the room which was illuminated by
several rude oil lamps, saw the looks of wonder and surprise on the
faces of Tom and his companions, noted the excitement among the
Mexicans, and then he caught sight of the golden image which the
woman held.
"Ah!" exclaimed Delazes, and there was a world of meaning in his
tone. His small dark eyes glittered. They roved from the image to
Tom, and back to the little golden figure again. "Ah!" muttered the
contractor. "And so the senor has found that for what he was
searching? It IS gold after all, but such gold as never I have seen
before. So, the senor hopes to get many relics like that for his
museum? So, is it not? Ah, ha! But that is worth coming many miles
to get!"
Tom realized that if he did net act quickly Delazes might have his
secret, and once it was known that Tom was seeking the buried city
of gold, the Mexicans could never be shaken off his trail. He
decided on a bold step.
"Look here, Senor Delazes," said the young inventor. "I had no more
idea that golden image was here than you did. I would like to buy
it, in fact I offered to, but they don't seem to want to sell it. If
you can purchase it for me I'll pay YOU a good price for it."
"And doubtless the senor would like many more," suggested Delazes,
with an open sneer.
"Doubtless the senor would!" snapped Tom. "Look here, Delazes, I'm
here on business, to get all the relics I can--this kind or any
other that I may fancy. You can think we're after buried treasure if
you want to--I'm not going to take the trouble to contradict you. I
hired you and your men for a certain purpose. But if you don't want
to stay and let me and my friends run things, the sooner you tell me
so the better. But I don't want any more of your underhand remarks.
Understand?"
For a moment Delazes stared at Tom with snapping eyes, as though he
would like to have attacked him. Then, knowing that Tom and his
friends were well armed, and doubtless thinking that strategy was
better than open force he bowed, smiled in what he probably meant
for a friendly fashion, and said:
"The senor is pleased to joke. Very well, I shall believe what I
like. Meanwhile, does Senor Swift commission me to buy the image for
him?"
Tom hesitated a moment. He feared he would be no match for the
shrewd Mexican, and he wondered how much Delazes already knew. Then
he decided on keeping up his end baldly, as that had seemed to have
the best effect.
"You can have a try at buying the image after I have failed," he
said. "I'll try my hand first."
"Very well," assented the contractor. The talk had been in English,
and none of the Mexicans gave any signs of having understood it. Tom
realized that he was playing a dangerous game, for naturally Delazes
would privately tell the Mexicans to put so high a price on the
statute as to prevent Tom from getting it and then the contractor
would make his own terms.
But Tom decided that this was the only course, and he followed it.
"We'll stay here in the village for to-night," he went on. "Delazes,
you and your men can make yourselves comfortable with any friends
you may find here. We'll set up our tent as usual, after we get some
corn meal for supper. I'll talk to them about the relic to-morrow.
They seem to be afraid now."
"Very well," assented the contractor again, and then be said
something in Spanish to the aged Mexican. What it was Tom could not
catch, for Delazes spoke rapidly and seemed to use some colloquial,
or slang phrases with which our hero was not familiar. The old
Mexican assented by a nod, and then he brought out some corn meal
which Eradicate took. The woman with the golden image had gone into
an inner room.
"Bless my pocketbook!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, when he Tom, Ned and
Eradicate were busy setting up their tent near a campfire just on
the edge of the village. "This is most unexpected. What are you
going to do, Tom?"
"I hardly know. I want to have a talk with whoever owns that image,
to learn where they got it. One thing is sure, it proves that Mr.
Illingway's information about the city of gold is correct."
"But it doesn't tell us where it is," said Ned.
"It must be somewhere around here," declared his chum. "Otherwise
the image wouldn't be here."
"Bless my gaiters, that's so!" exclaimed the odd man.
"Not necessarily," insisted Ned. "Why one of the images is away over
in Africa, and this one may have been brought hundreds of miles from
the underground city."
"I don't believe so," declared Tom. "We're somewhere in the
neighborhood of the city, according to Mr. Illingway's map, I'm
sure. That would be true, image or no image. But when you take the
little gold statue into consideration it makes me positive that I'm
near the end of the trail. I've just got to have a talk with those
people to learn where the statue came from."
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