“Wait,” Father Francisco bade the Scouts as they would have started into the tunnel. “You will need a light to guide you. A candle—”
“No need,” Jack said. “I have my pocket flashlight. Thanks for everything.”
Switching on the light, he started ahead of the others into the low, narrow passageway. A half dozen wide, well-worn stone steps led downward to a lower level.
Moving fast, the Scouts followed an uneven dirt floor in a crazy pattern of turns and zigzags. Soon they had lost all sense of direction.
“Shouldn’t this thing be coming to an end?” Willie presently demanded. “We’ve gone a mile.”
“Not even half that far,” Jack corrected, pausing to look back.
“Anyone behind us?” Willie asked.
“Nope. Father Francisco will look after that detail for us. You know, he’s a mighty good egg!”
“He pulled us out of a tight spot,” Ken agreed. “When we find the hidden city, we can send him some Inca gold as a token of our gratitude!”
“Let’s get out of here,” Willie urged impatiently. “This place makes me feel like a trapped rat.”