“Come,” she said softly.
Her hand, still concealed by the folds of her sleeve, moved over the nearest stone, and after an instant, during which the Flying Buddies almost held their breaths, the great mass moved. It slipped back about three inches, then slid along like a folding door, leaving an opening wide enough for them all to enter. The boys drew quick breaths of astonishment as they found themselves in a good-sized room which was cut out of the solid rock of the mountain. The heavy panel returned to its place, and a moment later they stood close together on another rock which dropped with perfect smoothness about ten feet, then admitted them into another small room. This seemed to be in the section near the edge of the cliff. Ynilea moved back a part in one corner, and through a clever screen of foliage they could get a good view of the sky.
“My gosh, Carlos was right, he did see an opening in the wall,” Bob said softly, and Ynilea turned a questioning glance toward him.
“He and some boys were here, I mean on top, years ago, and the little fellow declared he saw an opening in the wall. He was separated from his fellows, but when he found them and wanted to show it to them, he couldn’t locate it again and they thought he was dreaming, or his imagination working over-time,” Jim explained.
“His story was not credited?” Ynilea was adjusting a sort of periscope.
“No. He was such a little fellow they were sure he was mistaken.”
“Oh, there she is,” the tall Indian announced. He turned a wheel in the instrument and the boys could easily see the plane they had heard circling in a wide loop over their heads. As they watched, the man adjusted the glass until it was like a powerful telescope and Jim whistled as the flying machine was brought close enough for them to see the dark face of the pilot who was leaning over the side of his plane. He seemed to be looking for something and scowled when he did not find it.
“Bet the first gold tooth I get against a plugged dime that your hunch was right, Buddy. He is looking for the crater and the evidence of the near-disaster.”
“He’s coming lower.” The plane, which had been almost at the ceiling, began to spiral, and the man in the cock-pit pressed a pair of field glasses to his eyes.
“He might pick us out—”