“No. Had I seen a plane I should have remembered for I should have concealed myself.”
“Who was the man—do you know where he went?” Mrs. Gonzalas asked.
“As it happens, he was killed. I don’t know the particulars, but I just told you about it because it proves that there must be a place where the mineral is and you have miscalculated. If you’d like me to, I’ll go up in the air and look down through the glasses. I can soon spot the right dry fork for you and it will save no end of time,” Jim suggested, and at that sensible idea they all brightened.
“It must be somewhere near, and perhaps—this is later in the season and more forks may have dried. It is many weeks since you were here,” the brother suggested cheerfully.
“You are indeed a generous boy,” Mrs. Gonzalas smiled. “Quickly you will find—” She stopped abruptly, for in the heavens somewhere near was a plane and it was flying low. Intuitively they all looked up and a moment later saw the machine like a great dragon-fly against the evening sky.
“Maybe I better wait until that lad gets out of the neighborhood,” Jim suggested, for it suddenly occurred to him that it might be other men in search for the precious mineral.
“Let us conceal ourselves in the brush,” Pedro whispered. “It will be better—safer.” He helped his brother get Mrs. Gonzalas across the dry bed and up toward the rocks where a great patch of thick undergrowth would protect her from sight.
“Have you got any weapons—guns or anything?” Jim asked.
“This.” Pedro produced a small but efficient automatic. “My brother, Arto—he has one larger, and a knife.”
“Take this.” Mrs. Gonzalas slipped a small gun and cartridges into Jim’s hand and she seemed relieved to be rid of them. The lad judged by the look of astonishment on her husband’s face that he did not know that she had them in her possession.