by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER XXIII THE BATTLING GIANT
Having completed his detour, Johnny at last entered the cave by thesecret door. He found the confusion within the cave almost as great asthat without. Bronze natives were darting here and there. Some wereshouting, some chanting weird witch songs and some dancing about as ifmere action suited the occasion.
The little doctor was nowhere to be seen. Among them all there was onecalm figure--Curlie Carson. And he of all things! Johnny stood and staredin blank astonishment. Curlie sat cross-legged on the floor blowing on atin whistle, or rather several tin whistles, one at a time. On his kneesrested a telephone instrument. Each time he blew a whistle he inclinedhis head toward the receiver of this instrument. His eyes, for the mostpart, were fixed on the broad back of the grotesque, gigantic mechanicalfigure who, for the moment at least, blocked the threatening horde ofblacks.
"A telephone instrument!" Johnny said to himself, as his astonishmentgrew by leaps and bounds. "There is not a wire strung within twentymiles."
He thought of a radio sending set. But no. That was impossible. There hadnot been time for installing one. "Besides," he assured himself, "onedoes not send a radio S. O. S. by means of tin whistles. It's a madplace," he told himself. "This cave is full of mad people and Curlie hasgone mad with the rest of them."
Even as he arrived at this conclusion, it struck him that there was someconnection between the peep-peeping of those whistles and the actions ofthe mechanical giant. Curlie blew the shortest whistle several times andthe giant began a wild, frenzied dance; a longer whistle and he swung hisarms and cracked his iron knuckles together; still another and he begansnapping his clanking jaws.
Slowly it dawned upon Johnny that here was something quite marvelous;well worth watching to its very end; a battle between the brains of a boyand the brawn of a black rabble.
At that moment someone touched his arm. He turned about quite suddenly.It was the little doctor.
"Get it?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," Johnny answered.
"Good! You made a marvelous trip. We shan't need it though. I'm sorry.He's gone. It's all for the best."
"Dead?"
"Dead."
There was a moment of silence during which the giant once more blinkedhis eyes and cracked his knuckles together. Also from afar, but muchnearer than before, came the rumble and growl of thunder.
"You win," said the little doctor. "I am glad for that."
"I--I win?" Johnny did not understand.
"You get the 'Rope of Gold'. Explain later. That is, unless those rascalswin. They are after Curlie. They were staging a revolution. Curlie blewup their ship. Good thing. Nothing better ever happened. We'll stand byhim. But what's there to do? We haven't weapons--just a few machetes,that's all. Besides, these bronze people are no fighters; never were."
He turned and was gone.
Mechanically Johnny moved to a place where he was quite hidden bydarkness but where he could witness the action of the mob without and thegiant within.
The natives were afraid, that was certain; afraid of this giant.
"Probably think he is the ghost of Christophe. Singing, dancing anddrumming to drive him away. Well, if I'm any judge, he won't drive. Butwill they grow bolder? That's the question."
All the while the giant continued to dance and grimace, swing his armsand crack his knuckles while the angry mob, thirsting for revenge,pressed closer, ever closer to their goal.
At last, as Johnny stood there in the shadows breathless, watching, hesaw a short, broad black man with a full neck and an exceedingly evilface dart suddenly forward.
At once Johnny's brain was in a whirl. These men were superstitious, heknew that. All blacks are. Would this man dare attack this mysteriousmonster?
"If he dares," he said aloud, "we are lost."
Curlie nodded, but at once the sound of his whistles grew louder, moreinsistent, and the antics of the giant more frantic.
"He will not dare," Johnny told himself. Yet even as he said it, he knewthat he was wrong. What had come over the black man? Had despair lent himcourage? Had he by some chance come to realize that the thing before himwas made of copper, steel and wood and was no spirit at all? Be that asit may, as he paused before the threatening giant, he suddenly drew arevolver from his belt and emptied its contents into the giant's broadbreast.
The giant's only answer was a redoubling of his fury. He danced. Hecracked his teeth. He grimaced terribly.
For a few seconds the black leader wavered. He took one backward step. Athis back sounded the shouts of his men and from far back of that came awild crash of thunder. The storm was all but upon them.
"The battle is won," thought Johnny.
But no, with one wild cry the black man leaped at the giant. With acutting, rending crash his machete drove into the very heart of thegiant. At the same instant an iron hand came down upon his head.
The black man sank to the stone floor, to lie there motionless. The giantceased his swinging and dancing. Only his eyes still burned a steadygreen. Bending slowly over he came to rest in a position that made itappear that his green eyes were fixed upon the vanquished leader.
With one wild wail the black horde turned to race madly away into thenight and the storm.
"The fight," said Curlie, coming forward, "was a draw." His voice washusky. "They did one another in. It's too bad," he said bending over thestill form of the black leader. "I didn't mean to do that. He threwhimself into it. He was a brave, though mistaken man. Had he lived atanother time or espoused another cause, he might have died a hero."
"But you, my friend," he touched the mechanical giant affectionately,"you will live to fight again. In the world there are ever wrongs toright.
"That," he said turning to Johnny, "is the advantage of not being human."
"How does he work?" Johnny asked, looking with great admiration on thestooping giant.
"That," said Curlie, "is a long story."
"And I trust will keep," said a voice behind him. He turned to findhimself looking into the eyes of the little doctor.
"Johnny here has been traveling on foot for many hours," the doctor said."He will wish to eat and sleep. I too would like to know a littleconcerning this mechanical marvel. But more important still--I think youwill agree when it is told--is something I have to say to you. Yourgiant," he turned a twinkling eye on Curlie, "will be safe enough here.The blacks are gone. My men, I assure you, would not touch him foranything in the world. They will carry this unfortunate black man away.Later you may return to remove the victor in that unusual combat.
"In the meantime," he turned to lead the way, "I suggest a cup of Haitiancoffee, over which I have a tale to relate, the story of the 'Rope ofGold'."
"The Rope--"
The little man held up a hand for silence. Then he lead the way back intothe cave.
