“Yes. I wonder what they’re doing in New York,” replied Tom. “They are from New England. Maybe there’s a convention going on. Well, we’ll have to wait, that’s all, until Professor Bumper comes.”
And during that wait Tom heard something that surprised him and caused him no little worry. It was when Ned came back to his room, which adjoined Tom’s, that the young treasurer gave his chum the news.
“I say, Tom!” Ned exclaimed. “Who do you think those professors are, whose names we saw on the register?”
“I haven’t the least idea.”
“Why, they’re of Beecher’s party!”
“You don’t mean it!”
“I surely do.”
“How do you know?”
“I happened to overhear two of them talking down in the lobby a while ago. They didn’t make any secret of it. They spoke freely of going with Beecher to some ancient city in Honduras, to look for an idol of gold.”
“They did? But where is Beecher?”
“He hasn’t joined them yet. Their plans have been changed. Instead of leaving on the same steamer we are to take in the morning they are to come on a later one. The professors here are waiting for Beecher to come.”
“Why isn’t he here now?”
“Well, I heard one of the other scientists say that he had gone to a place called Fayetteville, and will come on from there.”
“Fayetteville!” ejaculated Tom. “Yes. That isn’t far from Shopton.”
“I know,” assented Tom. “I wonder—I wonder why he is going there?”
“I can tell you that, too.”
“You can? You’re a regular detective.”
“No, I just happened to overhear it. Beecher is going to call on Mary Nestor in Fayetteville, so his friends here said he told them, and his call has to do with an important matter—to him!” and Ned gazed curiously at his chum.
CHAPTER VIII
OFF FOR HONDURAS
Just what Tom’s thoughts were, Ned, of course, could not guess. But by the flush that showed under the tan of his chum’s cheeks the young financial secretary felt pretty certain that Tom was a bit apprehensive of the outcome of Professor Beecher’s call on Mary Nestor.
“So he is going to see her about ‘something important,’ Ned?”
“That’s what some members of his party called it.”
“And they’re waiting here for him to join them?”
“Yes. And it means waiting a week for another steamer. It must be something pretty important, don’t you think, to cause Beecher to risk that delay in starting after the idol of gold?”
“Important? Yes, I suppose so,” assented Tom. “And yet even if he waits for the next steamer he will get to Honduras nearly as soon as we do.”
“How is that?”
“The next boat is a faster one.”
“Then why don’t we take that? I hate dawdling along on a slow freighter.”
“Well, for one thing it would hardly do to change now, when all our goods are on board. And besides, the captain of the _Relstab_, on which we are going to sail, is a friend of Professor Bumper’s.”
“Well, I’m just as glad Beecher and his party aren’t going with us,” resumed Ned, after a pause. “It might make trouble.”
“Oh, I’m ready for any trouble HE might make!” quickly exclaimed Tom.
He meant trouble that might be developed in going to Honduras, and starting the search for the lost city and the idol of gold. This kind of trouble Tom and his friends had experienced before, on other trips where rivals had sought to frustrate their ends.
But, in his heart, though he said nothing to Ned about it, Tom was worried. Much as he disliked to admit it to himself, he feared the visit of Professor Beecher to Mary Nestor in Fayetteville had but one meaning.
“I wonder if he’s going to propose to her,” thought Tom. “He has the field all to himself now, and her father likes him. That’s in his favor. I guess Mr. Nestor has never quite forgiven me for that mistake about the dynamite box, and that wasn’t my fault. Then, too, the Beecher and Nestor families have been friends for years. Yes, he surely has the inside edge on me, and if he gets her to throw me over— Well, I won’t give up without a fight!” and Tom mentally girded himself for a battle of wits.
“He’s relying on the prestige he’ll get out of this idol of gold if his party finds it,” thought on the young inventor. “But I’ll help find it first. I’m glad to have a little start of him, anyhow, even if it isn’t more than two days. Though if our vessel is held back much by storms he may get on the ground first. However, that can’t be helped. I’ll do the best I can.”
These thoughts shot through Tom’s mind even as Ned was asking his questions and making comments. Then the young inventor, shaking his shoulders as though to rid them of some weight, remarked:
“Well, come on out and see the sights. It will be long before we look on Broadway again.”
When the chums returned from their sightseeing excursion, they found that Professor Bumper had arrived.
“Where’s Professor Bumper?” asked Ned, the next day.
“In his room, going over books, papers and maps to make sure he has everything.”
“And Mr. Damon?”
Tom did not have to answer that last question. Into the apartment came bursting the excited individual himself.
“Bless my overshoes!” he cried, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Come on, there’s no time to lose!”
“What’s the matter now?” asked Ned. “Is the hotel on fire?”
“Has anything happened to Professor Bumper?” Tom demanded, a wild idea forming in his head that perhaps some one of the Beecher party had tried to kidnap the discoverer of the lost city of Pelone.
“Oh, everything is all right,” answered Mr. Damon. “But it’s nearly time for the show to start, and we don’t want to be late. I have tickets.”
“For what?” asked Tom and Ned together.
“The movies,” was the laughing reply. “Bless my loose ribs! but I wouldn’t miss him for anything. He’s in a new play called ‘Up in a Balloon Boys.’ It’s great!” and Mr. Damon named a certain comic moving picture star in whose horse-play Mr. Damon took a curious interest. Tom and Ned were glad enough to go, Tom that he might have a chance to do a certain amount of thinking, and Ned because he was still boy enough to like moving pictures.
“I wonder, Tom,” said Mr. Damon, as they came out of the theater two hours later, all three chuckling at the remembrance of what they had seen, “I wonder you never turned your inventive mind to the movies.”
“Maybe I will, some day,” said Tom.
He spoke rather uncertainly. The truth of the matter was that he was still thinking deeply of the visit of Professor Beecher to Mary Nestor, and wondering what it portended.
But if Tom’s sleep was troubled that night he said nothing of it to his friends. He was up early the next morning, for they were to leave that day, and there was still considerable to be done in seeing that their baggage and supplies were safely loaded, and in attending to the last details of some business matters.
While at the hotel they had several glimpses of the members of the Beecher party who were awaiting the arrival of the young professor who was to lead them into the wilds of Honduras. But our friends did not seek the acquaintance of their rivals. The latter, likewise, remained by themselves, though they knew doubtless that there was likely to be a strenuous race for the possession of the idol of gold, then, it was presumed, buried deep in some forest-covered city.
Professor Bumper had made his arrangements carefully. As he explained to his friends, they would take the steamer from New York to Puerto Cortes, one of the principal seaports of Honduras. This is a town of about three thousand inhabitants, with an excellent harbor and a big pier along which vessels can tie up and discharge their cargoes directly into waiting cars.
The preparations were finally completed. The party went aboard the steamer, which was a large f
reight vessel, carrying a limited number of passengers, and late one afternoon swung down New York Bay.
“Off for Honduras!” cried Ned gaily, as they passed the Statue of Liberty. “I wonder what will happen before we see that little lady again.”
“Who knows?” asked Tom, shrugging his shoulders, Spanish fashion. And there came before him the vision of a certain “little lady,” about whom he had been thinking deeply of late.
CHAPTER IX
VAL JACINTO
“Rather tame, isn’t it, Tom?”
“Well, Ned, it isn’t exactly like going up in an airship,” and Tom Swift who was gazing over the rail down into the deep blue water of the Caribbean Sea, over which their vessel was then steaming, looked at his chum beside him.
“No, and your submarine voyage had it all over this one for excitement,” went on Ned. “When I think of that—”
“Bless my sea legs!” interrupted Mr. Damon, overhearing the conversation. “Don’t speak of THAT trip. My wife never forgave me for going on it. But I had a fine time,” he added with a twinkle of his eyes.
“Yes, that was quite a trip,” observed Tom, as his mind went back to it. “But this one isn’t over yet remember. And I shouldn’t be surprised if we had a little excitement very soon.”
“What do you mean?” asked Ned.
Up to this time the voyage from New York down into the tropical seas had been anything but exciting. There were not many passengers besides themselves, and the weather had been fine.
At first, used as they were to the actions of unscrupulous rivals in trying to thwart their efforts, Tom and Ned had been on the alert for any signs of hidden enemies on board the steamer. But aside from a little curiosity when it became known that they were going to explore little-known portions of Honduras, the other passengers took hardly any interest in our travelers.
It was thought best to keep secret the fact that they were going to search for a wonderful idol of gold. Not even the mule and ox-cart drivers, whom they would hire to take them into the wilds of the interior would be told of the real object of the search. It would be given out that they were looking for interesting ruins of ancient cities, with a view to getting such antiquities as might be there.
“What do you mean?” asked Ned again, when Tom did not answer him immediately. “What’s the excitement?”
“I think we’re in for a storm,” was the reply. “The barometer is falling and I see the crew going about making everything snug. So we may have a little trouble toward this end of our trip.”
“Let it come!” exclaimed Mr. Damon. “We’re not afraid of trouble, Tom. Swift, are we?”
“No, to be sure we’re not. And yet it looks as though the storm would be a bad one.”
“Then I am going to see if my books and papers are ready, so I can get them together in a hurry in case we have to take to the life-boats,” said Professor Bumper, coming on deck at that moment. “It won’t do to lose them. If we didn’t have the map we might not be able to find—”
“Ahem!” exclaimed Tom, with unnecessary emphasis it seemed. “I’ll help you go over your papers, Professor,” he added, and with a wink and a motion of his hand, he enjoined silence on his friend. Ned looked around for a reason for this, and observed a man, evidently of Spanish extraction, passing them as he paced up and down the deck.
“What’s the matter?” asked the scientist in a whisper, as the man went on. “Do you know him? Is he a—?”
“I don’t know anything about him,” said Tom; “but it is best not to speak of our trip before strangers.”
“You are right, Tom,” said Professor Bumper. “I’ll be more careful.”
A storm was brewing, that was certain. A dull, sickly yellow began to obscure the sky, and the water, from a beautiful blue, turned a slate color and ran along the sides of the vessel with a hissing sound as though the sullen waves would ask nothing better than to suck the craft down into their depths. The wind, which had been freshening, now sang in louder tones as it hummed through the rigging and the funnel stays and bowled over the receiving conductors of the wireless.
Sharp commands from the ship’s officers hastened the work of the crew in making things snug, and life lines were strung along deck for the safety of such of the passengers as might venture up when the blow began.
The storm was not long in coming. The howling of the wind grew louder, flecks of foam began to separate themselves from the crests of the waves, and the vessel pitched, rolled and tossed more violently. At first Tom and his friends thought they were in for no more than an ordinary blow, but as the storm progressed, and the passengers became aware of the anxiety on the part of the officers and crew, the alarm spread among them.
It really was a violent storm, approaching a hurricane in force, and at one time it seemed as though the craft, having been heeled far over under a staggering wave that swept her decks, would not come back to an even keel.
There was a panic among some of the passengers, and a few excited men behaved in a way that caused prompt action on the part of the first officer, who drove them back to the main cabin under threat of a revolver. For the men were determined to get to the lifeboats, and a small craft would not have had a minute to live in such seas as were running.
But the vessel proved herself sturdier than the timid ones had dared to hope, and she was soon running before the blast, going out of her course, it is true, but avoiding the danger among the many cays, or small islands, that dot the Caribbean Sea.
There was nothing to do but to let the storm blow itself out, which it did in two days. Then came a period of delightful weather. The cargo had shifted somewhat, which gave the steamer a rather undignified list.
This, as well as the loss of a deckhand overboard, was the effect of the hurricane, and though the end of the trip came amid sunshine and sweet-scented tropical breezes, many could not forget the dangers through which they had passed.
In due time Tom and his party found themselves safely housed in the small hotel at Puerto Cortes, their belongings stored in a convenient warehouse and themselves, rather weary by reason of the stress of weather, ready for the start into the interior wilds of Honduras.
“How are we going to make the trip?” asked Ned, as they sat at supper, the first night after their arrival, eating of several dishes, the red-pepper condiments of which caused frequent trips to the water pitcher.
“We can go in two ways, and perhaps we shall find it to our advantage to use both means,” said Professor Bumper. “To get to this city of Kurzon,” he proceeded in a low voice, so that none of the others in the dining-room would hear them, “we will have to go either by mule back or boat to a point near Copan. As near as I can tell by the ancient maps, Kurzon is in the Copan valley.
“Now the Chamelecon river seems to run to within a short distance of there, but there is no telling how far up it may be navigable. If we can go by boat it will be much more comfortable. Travel by mules and ox-carts is slow and sure, but the roads are very bad, as I have heard from friends who have made explorations in Honduras.
“And, as I said, we may have to use both land and water travel to get us where we want to go. We can proceed as far as possible up the river, and then take to the mules.”
“What about arranging for boats and animals?” asked Tom. “I should think—”
He suddenly ceased talking and reached for the water, taking several large swallows.
“Whew!” he exclaimed, when he could catch his breath. “That was a hot one.”
“What did you do?” asked Ned.
“Bit into a nest of red pepper. Guess I’ll have to tell that cook to scatter his hits. He’s bunching ’em too much in my direction,” and Tom wiped the tears from his eyes.
“To answer your question,” said Professor Bumper, “I will say that I have made partial arrangements for men and animals, and boats if it is found feasible to use them. I’ve been in correspondence with one of the merchants here, and he promised to make arran
gements for us.”
“When do we leave?” asked Mr. Damon.
“As soon as possible. I am not going to risk anything by delay,” and it was evident the professor referred to his young rival whose arrival might be expected almost any time.
As the party was about to leave the table, they were approached by a tall, dignified Spaniard who bowed low, rather exaggeratedly low, Ned thought, and addressed them in fairly good English.
“Your pardons, Senors,” he began, “but if it will please you to avail yourself of the humble services of myself, I shall have great pleasure in guiding you into the interior. I have at my command both mules and boats.”
“How do you know we are going into the interior?” asked Tom, a bit sharply, for he did not like the assurance of the man.
“Pardon, Senor. I saw that you are from the States. And those from the States do not come to Honduras except for two reasons. To travel and make explorations or to start trade, and professors do not usually engage in trade,” and he bowed to Professor Bumper.
“I saw your name on the register,” he proceeded, “and it was not difficult to guess your mission,” and he flashed a smile on the party, his white teeth showing brilliantly beneath his small, black moustache.
“I make it my business to outfit traveling parties, either for business, pleasure or scientific matters. I am, at your service, Val Jacinto,” and he introduced himself with another low bow.
For a moment Tom and his friends hardly knew how to accept this offer. It might be, as the man had said, that he was a professional tour conductor, like those who have charge of Egyptian donkey-boys and guides. Or might he not be a spy?
This occurred to Tom no less than to Professor Bumper. They looked at one another while Val Jacinto bowed again and murmured:
“At your service!”
“Can you provide means for taking us to the Copan valley?” asked the professor. “You are right in one respect. I am a scientist and I purpose doing some exploring near Copan. Can you get us there?”
“Most expensively—I mean, most expeditionlessly,” said Val Jacinto eagerly. “Pardon my unhappy English. I forget at times. The charges will be most moderate. I can send you by boat as far as the river travel is good, and then have mules and ox-carts in waiting.”
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