The Clue in the Embers

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “Perhaps it’s already too late,” Joe thought fearfully as he swam underwater.

  Suddenly he saw the boy. His limp body was entangled in the branches of a sunken tree trunk. Relieved, but with the air in his lungs almost gone, Joe swam over and tried to release the unconscious boy. Just as he felt his lungs would burst, the branches gave way, and grasping the child firmly, he quickly rose to the surface.

  As Joe emerged into the brilliant sunlight and inhaled great gulps of air, Frank cried out, “Great! Over here, Joe!”

  His brother, still clutching the helpless child, headed for shore. As he drew near, Frank jumped into the water and said, “I’ll take him!”

  He reached for the little boy and carried him ashore. Joe followed. Frank laid the child on the ground and began to give him artificial respiration to force the water from his lungs. A few minutes later Chet took a turn, then Tony.

  Presently the Indian who had been on the cliff appeared, tears streaming from his eyes. Jabbering in a language unintelligible to the boys and gesticulating, he indicated that the youngster was his son.

  “He’ll be all right,” Frank said, noting that the child’s pulse, though feeble, was picking up.

  As water spewed from the little boy’s mouth, his limbs began to twitch, and his breathing became more regular. Soon the child’s eyes opened. Through gestures, Frank indicated to the Indian that his son was definitely out of danger, but should be put to bed for the rest of the day.

  When the child was ready to travel, his father gently picked him up. The man, his face beaming with gratitude, nodded to each boy, then started homeward.

  “That was a great rescue you made, Joe,” Chet praised. “You’ve made a real friend of that Indian.”

  Joe removed his wet clothes. The warm breeze quickly dried them. After putting them back on, he said, “All set? Let’s head for the treasure spot of Texichapi.”

  “‘The valley of evil,’” Chet quoted dolefully.

  The four rode toward the place, which, according to the stranger at the trading center, had the power to cast an evil spell. After making two wrong turns, they finally came to an area which looked like the map on the medallions.

  “It’s beautiful here!” Tony exclaimed.

  “Not windy and cold like that Indian said. And it certainly is cheerful,” Chet remarked, watching the brilliantly colored birds in the trees.

  Small clumps of spruce filled the valley, and as the mules moved silently over the pine-needled ground, the boys breathed in the crisp air.

  “There’s a big stand of mahogany trees ahead!” Frank said excitedly. “And that’s the spot indicated on the map by the opal.”

  Eagerly they urged their mounts toward it. Reaching the grove of giant trees, Frank took a pad from his pocket and once more sketched all the lines from the medallions, including the precise location of the opal.

  “Right here is where we start digging,” he announced and marked the exact area. Then he tore the paper into small bits and scattered them in the breeze.

  During the next five hours the boys dug without interruption. Nothing came to light. Finally, tired from the heavy work, they were about to quit for the day when Tony’s pick hit a hard surface. It had struck rocks before, but this time there was a slightly different sound.

  “Fellows,” he said excitedly, “start shoveling here!” Working furiously the group gradually made out the shape of a stone step, then another leading into the earth.

  “This is the beginning!” Joe cried. “Let’s really dig!”

  Into the dusk, then after a night’s rest, all through the next morning, the quartet continued their excavation work. After uncovering a dozen steps with a carved balustrade, they came to a stone of a different type.

  “This isn’t a step,” said Frank. “It’s a slab laid across something.”

  They decided to pry the slab loose. This proved to be a backbreaking job, but at last they managed to upend the stone. Below it were more steps, almost free of earth.

  Their hearts pounding, the boys beamed their lights ahead and descended. “I feel as if I were walking back through the centuries,” Frank commented in a whisper.

  In a few moments he and his companions found themselves standing in the anteroom of a huge building. “This must have been a palace!” Joe cried excitedly as his light picked up carved columns, benches, and walls.

  Silently they made their way through richly carved reception rooms, altar rooms, and finally reached the vast throne room. Chet broke the stillness to exclaim, “Wowee! What a treasure!”

  The frescoed walls and throne were of solid gold!

  “Look at those chairs!” Tony gasped.

  The carved seats were inlaid with varicolored woods. Opals and costly jade crowned the backs of each. Emeralds and rubies glistened from their settings in the golden throne. Eight-foot vases with mosaic figures of Aztec royalty filled the corners of the room.

  “Whew!” Tony gasped. “I just don’t believe I’m seeing all this. It must be a dream!”

  “These treasures are certainly government property!” Frank said. “No one must be allowed to steal them. We must notify the Guatemalan government at once.”

  Retracing their steps, the boys saw one entire room filled with golden figures.

  “Why, this one room alone is worth a fortune!” Joe exclaimed. “No wonder Torres and Valez were ready to kill us to obtain the medallions.”

  Passing through the reception room hung with tapestries of golden thread woven through the brilliant plumage of tropical birds, the boys approached the steps.

  “It seems darker here than when we came down,” Tony remarked.

  The reason soon became obvious to the boys. Several shadowy forms were standing guard at the entrance! Some of them were the boys’ tormentors from the Kulkul village, others were white men, including a tall, blond fellow.

  “The kitchen gadget salesman Callie told us about!” shot through Joe’s mind.

  “They’ve followed us here,” Frank whispered. “Even the masquerading ‘woman’ from the plane!” he groaned. “I recognize his face.”

  The man stepped forward. He introduced himself as Alberto Torres, leader of the “patriots.”

  “I am glad to see the detectives from the States. Of course it will be impossible for you to escape,” he added. “Permit me to thank you for leading us to the treasure we have sought for so long.”

  As Frank started to reply, one of the surly-looking guards slapped him across the mouth.

  Torres went on, “And now that the fabled treasure has been located, we have no time to lose. You boys will be sealed inside this palace to die while we go for more equipment.”

  Led by Frank, the four prisoners bolted for the steps, knocking over several of the guards. But the Hardys and their friends were blocked at the bottom step.

  “Do not act foolish,” Torres warned them, “or you will die sooner.”

  The power he held over the boys suddenly inflated his ego. “I fooled you all, you and your father,” he boasted. “That Valez—he was stupid to let himself get caught. And Willie Wortman is dumb too. He sells the medallions—the key to this treasure.”

  “Where did the medallions come from?” Frank spoke up.

  The guard was about to strike him again, but Torres raised his hand in a swaggering motion to stop him. “I can at least amuse you before you die by answering some of your questions,” the pompous leader replied. “To begin with, those medallions were cleverly and secretly made by an old Kulkul Indian who had wandered away from his tribe. Most likely he had discovered the treasure and made the medallions as a future guide for Tecum-Uman. He died suddenly in the forest and Wortman’s buddy found them on the body of the old Indian. He showed them to me. When I realized later that they must be of great value, I tried to get them from Wortman’s friend. But he had disappeared.

  “I sent Luis Valez,” he continued, “to find him. He learned Willie Wortman had received the coins in the meantim
e and had sold them to Roberto Prito in New York. Valez went there, then on to Bayport. Willie Wortman, meanwhile, had begun to suspect something, and he too began to search for the medallions.”

  “Were you the man who got away from me in New York?” Joe interrupted.

  “I was,” Torres replied boastfully. “When Valez seemed to be failing in his mission,” he continued, “I hunted up Willie Wortman in New York. I was following him that day when you saw us. I didn’t find out anything from him, so I went to Bayport to check on Valez. He was in jail and I learned you were coming to Guatemala, so I boarded the same flight. You got away at the New York airport, but I took the next plane here.”

  Torres’s statement that he had arrived in Bayport after his henchman’s arrest cleared up one of the questions in the minds of the Hardys. He was not the man who had helped Valez when he had waylaid Joe and stolen the opal medallion.

  “How did you find out we were coming to Guatemala?” Frank asked.

  “I learned about it from a friend at the consulate in New York. The patriotic society kept track of you. They traced you through a Guatemala City taxi company and found that you were already headed out here to the hills.”

  “Did you arrange what happened to us at the fire ceremony?” Frank queried.

  “Yes. And one of my spies tried to keep you from this place by telling you it is a valley of evil.”

  After a pause, Torres added, “Tecum-Uman hates me, but I have many friends. I sent word to them to bring you in. The old man knew nothing of this. But when he showed up he was told a story of his people having to break a curse you had brought them because of a false shaman.”

  “You didn’t plan on our leaving that village,” Joe said.

  “No. I was going to get the truth out of you about the treasure right there. But it does not matter. You found it for us, anyway.”

  “It’s too bad that Tecum-Uman doesn’t have a loyal following in all his villages,” Frank said. “He’d drive a thief like you out of the country!”

  “No more talk like that,” Torres retorted angrily, “or I won’t even bother to seal you in! I’ll kill you right now!”

  Frank, stalling for time and hoping that the boys could think of a way to outwit Torres, questioned the vain man again.

  “Luis Valez is good with a blowgun, isn’t he?”

  “Very good. Learned it from a South American Indian.”

  “Tell me about the first medallion he stole.” Torres whirled around. “You say Valez stole it?”

  “Yes. He and his friend, whoever he is!”

  “That dirty double-crosser!” Torres roared. “He was playing his own game and must still have the coin!”

  In spite of Frank’s attempt to continue the conversation, Torres, ruffled by the news of Valez’s betrayal, suddenly shouted, “Enough of this delay! Seal these four in!”

  He headed for the steps, and without looking back, disappeared onto the ground level. The six guards closed in!

  CHAPTER XX

  The Secret Revealed

  KNOWING that they were doomed to certain death in the buried palace if they could not elude the guards, the Hardys, Tony, and Chet realized they must make a desperate attempt.

  “Our only chance is to slug it out with them,” whispered Frank.

  Quickly the boys retreated to the middle of the room and braced themselves for the attack. Two of the enemy headed for Joe, who ducked, grabbed one native’s arm, and swiftly slung him jujitsu fashion over his shoulder. The man crashed against a heavy stone idol and lay dazed. Joe’s second opponent caught the boy square on the chest and the two fell, rolling over and over.

  Chet, knocked to the floor by a husky Indian, decided to use strategy. As the native above him closed in, the boy pretended to let himself be taken. The man relaxed and motioned for Chet to stand up. As he rose, Chet brought the back of his head up flush under the jaw of the unsuspecting enemy, who at once collapsed.

  “Two down—four to go!” cried Chet, running toward Tony who was being backed into a corner.

  Chet reached out with both hands and caught the coarse black hair of the man nearest him. Tony did the same to another man. With a quick, jerking motion the boys banged the skulls of the natives together with such a crack that the two dropped in a heap, unconscious.

  Joe was still struggling with his man, and Frank was being beaten by the biggest of the attacking group.

  “Come on, Chet!” yelled Tony, racing across the room. With only two natives left to subdue, they had a chance for escape!

  But just then six more Indians swarmed down the steps. There was nothing for the boys to do but surrender. They were lashed tightly, then laid at the foot of the steps.

  The bandits were jubilant! Shouting words of self-praise, they started up the steps. Suddenly, in the bright light of the opening, an Indian with drawn bow appeared. He let fly with the arrow. One of the bandits screamed in pain as the flint arrowhead seared into his raised right arm. He crumpled to his knees, begging the Indian not to release the second arrow, which was already aimed at him.

  Several Indians came running down the steps after their leader. Herding the boys’ captors into a corner, they ordered one of them to release Frank and Tony from their bonds, who in turn freed Joe and Chet.

  “We’re mighty glad to see you!” Frank said. “But where did you come from?”

  “Kulkul village,” the man replied, pointing to the steps. The boys turned to look. At the top of the stairs stood the father of the little boy Joe had rescued!

  The quartet rushed up to thank the man. He asked one of his friends to act as interpreter.

  “He say after you save boy he see you go on path to Texichapi. He start to worry,” the man began. “He know we have some bad people in one Kulkul village. When he see them after you, he run to loyal Kulkuls and tell us come quick with him.”

  “We want to thank you and all the loyal Kulkuls for saving our lives,” Frank said.

  “Tomas, the boy’s father, he say we equal,” the man replied. “You save his son. We save you.”

  A moment later they saw Tecum-Uman approaching. He told them that Torres and his gang were under guard, adding that he had already sent a messenger to inform the officials.

  “You have done a noble act for the Guatemalan government,” the old man said to Frank as he excitedly started on a tour through the palace with the discoverers.

  “Yes,” the interpreter added, “place belong to ancestor. Thank you for find. Nobody steal. Sacred for government fathers.”

  “I wonder what Torres is thinking about now,” Chet remarked. “I’ll bet he’s not boasting!”

  “We’ll find out after we come back from showing Tecum-Uman and his friends the rest of the palace,” Frank replied.

  The boys led the way through the wealth and beauty of the rooms. The Indians were overcome with joy as they saw the splendor of their earlier civilization. Tears of happiness filled Tecum-Uman’s eyes.

  “With Torres arrested and in jail,” the old man said, “the Kulkul tribe will become united again. And this wonderful palace can be restored. The tribal gods have looked on us with favor.”

  As they moved along, playing their flashlights from one priceless object to another, Chet, who had been leaning against a jewel-paneled wall, suddenly cried, “Hey, what’s this?” as the panel swung open. “A whole new passageway!”

  Eagerly the boys beamed their lights into this area. On their previous trip they had thought the decorated rectangle was part of a solid wall.

  Tecum-Uman and the others accompanied them into the newly found section. The old man’s eyes glistened as he explained to the boys that this must have been a sacred ceremonial room. It was fashioned of pale-pink granite, which probably had been transported from South America, Tecum-Uman said. Here, too, were costly idols made of beautifully carved woods, silver, or gold set with precious jewels.

  “See this!” Joe called to the others. “We could adopt it as the souvenir of our d
iscovery.”

  As he flashed his light on a head ornament mounted on the wall, the group saw a large central figure of a god surrounded by four human figures.

  “You mean Tecum-Uman in middle and four boys from States!” the old man said, smiling.

  The inspection ended, the group retraced their way through the palace and climbed the steps to the surface. Across a small clearing the notorious Torres, guarded by several Indians, stood staring glumly at the ground. At the sight of the boys, the leader of the criminals flew into a rage.

  “I will get my revenge!” he yelled. In spite of the Kulkuls’ efforts to silence him, he continued screaming at the boys.

  “Say, Torres,” Chet called, “next time you impersonate a woman, remember to wear gloves—your hands gave you away!”

  Torres, incensed by Chet’s remark, clenched his large fists and kept shouting. But a moment later, when reinforcements of loyal Kulkuls ran into the clearing, the man became silent. Tecum-Uman told the boys not to worry about further trouble with Torres and his gang.

  Posting a guard at the entrance to the palace, the tribal chief asked the boys to get their mules and walk with him at the head of a procession back to the nearby Kulkul village.

  “You are heroes,” he said, “and my people will want to thank you. But tell me how you learned of this treasure.”

  The Hardys explained about the medallions and Torres. When they finished the story, Tecum-Uman nodded his head. He said that an elderly member of his tribe had been taken ill while on a hunting trip and died before he could get back to his village. The old man probably was the Indian from whom Willie Wortman’s sailor friend had gotten the medallions.

  After packing the rented equipment, the boys joined Tecum-Uman. Amidst the cheers of the Kulkuls, the parade started.

  The exciting news of the Hardys’ discovery of the long-buried palace and the arrest of the law-breaker Torres turned the sleepy village into a buzzing beehive. Everywhere the usually silent natives talked excitedly about the news that trickled in ahead of the heroes.