“I would assist you if I could,” Father Francisco resumed after a moment. “Unfortunately, I can do nothing.”
“Tell us everything you know about Mr. Monahan’s disappearance,” Jack urged.
“For many weeks he studied the ancient parchment which I have here—taking notes, trying to figure out the route of the Portuguese explorers who so faithfully recounted their discovery of the hidden pre-Inca city. Finally, disregarding all advice, he organized a party and set off into the most desolate section of the mountains. That was many months ago.”
“And that was the last you ever heard of him?” Ken inquired.
“Word filtered back. As the journey became more difficult, his natives began to desert. Finally, even Captain Carter abandoned him.”
“Captain Carter!” exclaimed Jack, startled. “The skipper of the Shark?”
“The same.”
“Why, we didn’t know he had a close association with Mr. Monahan,” Ken declared. “Captain Carter is bringing our equipment here on the Shark. In fact, he promoted the expedition.”
Father Francisco eyed the two Scouts with a fixed rigid smile. “So Captain Carter is to be a member of your party?” he asked softly.
“Mr. Monahan—Burton’s brother—thought he could be helpful to us,” Ken explained.