The Flying Machine Boys in the Wilds. Frank Walton

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СКАЧАТЬ jumble of English, Spanish and French was now heard, and directly a dozen or more figures were seen advancing across the field to where the flying machines had landed.

      “There’s some one talking United States, all right!” Jimmie declared.

      Directly the visitors came up to where the boys were standing and began gazing about, some impudently, some curiously and some threateningly.

      “Keep your hands off the machines!” Glenn warned, as a dusky native began handling the levers.

      The fellow turned about and regarded the boy with an impudent stare. He said something in Spanish which Glenn did not understand, and then walked away to a group of natives who were whispering suspiciously together.

      “Where are you from?” asked a voice in English as Glenn examined the levers to see that nothing had been removed or displaced.

      “Gee!” exclaimed Jimmie. “That United States talk sounds good to me!”

      The man who had spoken now turned to Jimmie and repeated his question.

      “Where do you boys come from?”

      “New York,” Jimmie replied.

      “And you came across the Isthmus of Panama?” was the next question.

      “Sure we did!” answered the boy.

      “Well,” the stranger said, “my name is Bixby, Jim Bixby, and I’ve been looking for you for two days.”

      “Is that so?” asked Jimmie incredulously.

      “You see,” Bixby went on, “I am a dealer in automobile supplies, probably the only one doing a large business in this part of the country. Some days ago I received a telegram from Louis Havens, the millionaire aviator, saying that four pupils of his were coming this way, and advising me to take good care of you.”

      “Where did Mr. Havens wire from?” asked Jimmie.

      “First from New York,” was the reply, “and then from New Orleans. It seems that he started away from New York on the day following your departure, and that he has been having trouble with the Ann all the way down. His last telegram instructed me to ask you to wait here until his arrival. He ought to be here sometime to-morrow.”

      “That’ll be fine!” exclaimed Jimmie.

      “And now,” Bixby went on, “you’ll have to employ two or three fellows to watch your machines for the night. The natives would carry them away piecemeal if you left them here unguarded.”

      “Perhaps you can pick out two or three trusty men,” suggested Glenn.

      “I have had three men in mind ever since I received my first message from Mr. Havens!” replied Bixby. “When your machine was sighted in the air not long ago, I ’phoned to their houses and they will undoubtedly be here before long.”

      “How’ll they know where to come?” asked Jimmie.

      “Don’t you think that half the people in Quito don’t know where these wonders of the air lighted!” Bixby laughed. “The news went over the city like lightning when your planes showed. Your lights, of course, revealed your exact whereabouts to those on this side of the town, and telephones and messenger boys have done the rest.”

      While the boys talked with this very welcome and friendly visitor, the clamor of an automobile was heard, and directly two great acetylene eyes left the highway and turned, bumping and swaying, into the field.

      “There will be damages to pay for mussing up this grass!” Carl suggested, as a fresh crowd of sight-seers followed the machine into the enclosure.

      “Of course,” replied Bixby, “and they’ll try to make you pay ten times what the damage really amounts to. But you leave all that to me. I can handle these fellows better than you can!”

      “We shall be glad to have you do so!” Glenn replied.

      In a moment the automobile ran up to the planes and stopped. Of the four men it contained, three alighted and approached Bixby.

      “These are the guards,” the latter said turning to the boys.

      The men, who seemed both willing and efficient, drew a long rope and several steel stakes from the automobile and began enclosing the machines with the same. As the rope was strung out, the constantly increasing crowd was pushed back beyond the circle.

      “Won’t they make trouble for the guards during the night?” asked Ben.

      “I think not,” was the reply. “I have already arranged for a number of native policemen to assist these men.”

      “Gee!” exclaimed Carl, “I guess Mr. Havens picked out the right man!”

      “How did he know we were going to stop at Quito?” asked Ben.

      “He didn’t know!” replied Bixby. “But he surmised that you’d be obliged to land here in order to fill your fuel tanks.”

      “Well, we didn’t come here for that purpose,” laughed Glenn. “We came here because the savages chased us out of a cute little valley about twenty miles away!”

      “It’s a wonder you got away at all if they saw you!” said Bixby.

      “I guess they didn’t seem to understand about our motors getting into the air!” laughed Jimmie. “The minute the wheel left the ground their war-cries ceased.”

      “It’s a wonder you were permitted to get to the machines at all if they caught you away from them!” said Bixby.

      “Aw, we always have the luck of the Irish,” Jimmie replied. “The shooting and the display of electric searchlights kept them away until we got into the seats and our way of ascending into the sky did the rest.”

      “You are very lucky boys!” insisted Bixby.

      “It’s nice to hear you say so!” Ben answered, “because we’re going to follow this line of mountains down to Cape Horn, and visit every ruined temple on the route that has a ghost on its visiting list.”

      “If you’ll listen to the stories you hear in the cities,” laughed Bixby, “you’ll visit a good many ruined temples.”

      “Glenn was telling us about a temple down on Lake Titicaca,” Ben replied. “He says that figures in flowing white robes appear in the night-time, and are seen by the light that emanates from their own figures! He says, too, that there are illuminations of red, and green, and yellow, which come from no determinable source, and that there are noises which come out of the clear air unaccounted for!”

      “There is such a temple, isn’t there, Mr. Bixby?” asked Glenn.

      “There is a temple about which such stories are told,” laughed Bixby. “Are you boys thinking of going there?”

      “Sure thing, we’re going there!” asserted Jimmie.

      During this conversation the three men who had been employed by Bixby to guard the flying machine during the night had been standing by in listening attitudes. When the haunted temple and the proposed visit of СКАЧАТЬ