“Message? What message?”
“One that Captain Carter was supposed to deliver. He was to inform my brother that I was safe here. I take it he pulled a worse double-cross than I thought.”
“Captain Carter told your brother that you had been missing many months. He induced him to finance this rescue party. Carter supposedly was to help us, but instead he made everything as difficult as possible.”
“That I can believe,” Burton Monahan rejoined. “Captain Carter is a scoundrel. He has only one objective—to gain the Inca treasure.”
“Is that what brought him back here?”
“It is,” Burton Monahan said shortly. “I’ll tell you more about it later. Take me to your friends now. We must see what can be done before dawn. I’ve not exaggerated in saying that your party is in very grave danger.”
The man readjusted the animal mask, though not before Jack had obtained another clear view of his clean-cut face. He was tall and exceedingly thin, but with hard, firm muscles.
“It is dangerous to remain here in the plaza,” Burton said uneasily. “Captain Carter must not see you.”
“Where is he?” Jack asked, leading the way toward the stone house where his friends waited.
“Asleep in the palace. He’s been in a half-drunken stupor ever since the natives brought him to this sacred city.”