The Mystery Boys and the Inca Gold
Van Powell
Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
THE MYSTERY BOYS AND THE INCA GOLD
By VAN POWELL
Author _of_ "The Mystery Boys Series," etc.
Mystery Boys logo]
THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING CO. Cleveland, Ohio New York City
Copyright, 1931 _by_ THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING CO.
World Book logo]
_Printed in the United States of America_
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE I. A Dead Letter Comes to Life 5 II. The Mystery Boys Add a Member 13 III. Gold, and a Life At Stake 21 IV. "Quipu Bill" 30 V. The Chums Prove Their Mettle 39 VI. A New Mystery Develops 49 VII. Cliff Tries a Ruse 59 VIII. The Outcome 67 IX. Ambushed! 78 X. The Hidden City 89 XI. "Chasca, Hailli!" 98 XII. Cliff Faces a Problem 114 XIII. The Games 123 XIV. Gold, and a Surprise 131 XV. The Feast of Raymi 139 XVI. The Mystery Boys Hold Council 147 XVII. From Bad to Worse 154 XVIII. Tit For Tat 163 XIX. Huamachaco's Secret 174 XX. On the Temple Steps 179 XXI. Rats in a Trap 184 XXII. The Temple of the Sun 189 XXIII. Chasca Appears Again 196 XXIV. The Inca Speaks 202 XXV. Tom's Adventure 207 XXVI. Into the Dungeons 213 XXVII. Beasts of Burden 221 XXVIII. "Can We Get There in Time?" 229 XXIX. At the Cistern 236 XXX. A Fortune by Misfortune 244 XXXI. Cliff Becomes a Prophet 253 XXXII. The Andes Close Their Jaws 258 XXXIII. No Way Out? 264 XXXIV. Huayca Plays Decoy 269 XXXV. Folded Arms 278
THE MYSTERY BOYS AND THE INCA GOLD
CHAPTER I A DEAD LETTER COMES TO LIFE
The whole mysterious affair puzzled Cliff. To have those queer strangersappear suddenly at Aunt Lucy's with their unusual questions threw him alittle off his stride.
"No," he answered the stocky Spaniard with the crafty, shifty eyes, "Idid not get a letter from Peru. Who wrote it? Is it from my father? Howdo you know about it?"
While the Spaniard interpreted the answer to his companion Cliff studiedthem both. If the tall, stalwart man with copper skin and piercing eyeswas not an Indian, Cliff had never seen a truthful picture of one. Hewore European clothes but he was not at his ease in them. While helistened to the queer language which the Spaniard used he kept his eyesboring Cliff and Cliff saw that his denial was not believed.
Copper-skin muttered something and the Spaniard turned again to Cliff.
"You not get letter? _Mi amigo_, my friend, say it mail 'nine, ten week'ago."
"I can't help that," Cliff declared, "It hasn't come. Who is it from--myfather?" Cliff had not heard from his father in nearly five years:naturally he was anxious about the scholar who studied ancientcivilizations and who had gone to Peru to write a book about the Incas.
"Letter from man you not know." The Spaniard was very impressive; hespoke slowly, "When it come you not open it. You give to us _pronto_! Wepay much money."
"Why?" demanded Cliff, "What is in the letter?"
The Spaniard turned and began exchanging words with the Indian. Cliff,sitting with his chums, Nicky and Tom, on Aunt Lucy's cottage porch,looked at his friends helplessly. They, staring with wide eyes, showedplainly that they could not help him with his puzzle. A letter fromPeru; from a man he did not know! It must be delivered to thesestrangers unopened. They would pay well for it. Why? What was it allabout?
Clifford Gray was as clean-cut a youth of fifteen as any of the severalhundred who attended Amadale Military Academy, in this suburb of athriving mid-Western city. He was not handsome but he had clear, direct,observant eyes, a firm, almost stubborn chin and a cheerful grin; hisbody was well built and kept in splendid trim by much athletic activity.That he was calm, cool, in full control of his finely muscled arms wasproved on the day that the Amadale baseball pitcher "blew up" in thefourth inning of an important game, letting two runs come in and fillingtwo bases by "walking" a pair of the opposing team; Cliff went in topitch, with one man out. After two wild balls that clipped the corner ofthe plate, he surprised the confident batsman with swift pitches whichrapped the catcher's glove as the bat swung, and fine, teasing curvesthat broke just too soon to be hit. After holding the opposing runswhere they were for the next five innings he drove in the tying run andhimself scored the needed one to win and became a hero in Amadale.
He lived with his Aunt Lucy because his father traveled in distantlands, studying old ruins for his histories of ancient people. Aunt Lucytook a few "boarders" and mothered the boys without coddling them. Amongher "boarders" Tom and Nicky were favorites. Tom was a quiet, thoughtfulyouth just a month older than Cliff; Nicky, talkative and full ofspirits, was the youngest of the trio. All three were drawn together bya common bond; each had a mystery in his life. Cliff's mystery seemed ina fair way to become very much alive.
The Spaniard and his companion had reached some agreement. Cliff, hiseyes missing nothing, his brain alert, surmised from the stockyforeigner's shifting glance that he was about to say something eitherwholly or partly untrue.
"I tell you," he stated to Cliff, "it look to you--how you say!--funny,eh? I make you see.
"_Mi amigo_--this friend, he live in Quito, that place was once greatPeruvian city of Inca people." Cliff nodded. He knew something aboutQuito, capital of an empire conquered by the Incas before the Spaniards,in their turn, conquered them.
"_Si! Si._ You _sabe_ Quito. White man come there--five year' ago. Askthis _amigo_ to guide to old ruins."
"My father!" declared Cliff, eagerly, while Tom and Nicky sat forward onthe porch swing, intent and excited.
"_Quien sabe_--who knows? I think yes. This man agree to take white manto old ruins in cordillerras--mountains! They stop in village whereis--how you say?--festival of wedding.
"White man get very drunk. He have fight and shoot natives."
To Cliff that did not ring true; his father was a quiet man, not thesort to take much wine or to us
e firearms except in self defense.However, he said nothing.
"One native die," went on the Spaniard, "Others very angry. Put whiteman in prison. He think they kill him. He write letter and ask thisfriend of me, here, to escape away and send letter. This man must swimin river to escape. Water make the address of letter so it is not tosend." He made a gesture of smudging ink and flung out his hands toindicate helplessness.
"This friend not know what to do. He not read. He put letter away andforget. He learn after 'while the white man kill' by natives."
Cliff was saddened by the story, even though he had no proof that itreally concerned his father. Tom and Nicky looked sorrowful andsympathetic.
"Ten week ago," the Spaniard continued, "this man see another white manin mountains, make hunt for the place of gold mining."
"A prospector," Nicky interrupted. Cliff nodded.
"This man ask white man about letter, what to do. I am in camp withwhite man, _Americano_. But I not read letter. Other one do that andgrin and laugh and take new envelop' and put on address from insideletter. He go away and mail at Cuzco.
"Then----" he was very impressive. "He tell me letter say this friend ofme is one who lead other white man to death!"
That explained why they were so anxious to see the letter, of course. Itmight not be a letter from his father--but who else in Peru knew him orknew his address? But his father would not get into a brawl. Perhaps hedid write that he was led into danger. In that case the Indian wasguilty of it.
"The letter has not arrived," Cliff repeated.
"Maybe it went to the Dead Letter Office," Nicky suggested. "Maybe theother fellow didn't address it right."
The Spaniard did not interpret this; evidently he did not understand,not being familiar with American postal systems.
"White man dead--not letter" he corrected. Cliff smiled.
"We can't do anything until it comes," he said, "Then----"
"You give to us?" eagerly. "You not open. We pay----"
"I won't promise anything like that," Cliff shook his head, Tom andNicky doing likewise. "But I will promise not to open it until you arehere. That's fair, isn't it?"
When the Spaniard had interpreted, his companion said something thatmade the interpreter laugh with a vicious glint in his eyes.
At the same instant Nicky laid an excited hand on Cliff's arm. All ofthem saw the direction of his intent gaze and turned to look.
The postman was coming along the suburban street, chatting with this oneand that one as he delivered mail. His mission was clear to theforeigners and they stood waiting, tense and eager. Those were mildposes compared to the suspense of the three chums. They almost trembledin their excitement.
At their gate their jolly letter carrier waved something at Cliff.
"I declare," Cliff, eyes fixed on him, heard him banter. "How did youever get you a girl so far away? Why, it would cost you a year'sallowance to go and call on her!"
He skimmed a fat missive toward the porch. Cliff ran half way down thesteps and caught it. From above him, the others stared. There was nomistaking that unusual stamp.
The letter was from Peru.
