While this discourse was taking place, Cardow and Gordon were questioning the air-fighters, and at last they were convinced that no trick had been played; that young Caldwell had not escaped from them. Gordon glanced maliciously toward Jim as if anxious to hear the same news of the second Flying Buddy. Cardow turned about and his eyes rested a moment on Austin, but before he could continue his interrogating, the man who had promised to report progress, came running to them.
“It’s ready to shoot.” At that the whole gang sprang forward, including the two guards, but Gordon stopped short.
“Don’t let them out of your sight,” he ordered brusquely to the Admiral and the General paused and returned to their charges, apparently none too pleased at the command.
The group waited tensely, Jim fiercely endeavoring to get his mind off the ghastly details of his Buddy’s death as well as to keep from thinking how the terrible news would affect the boy’s mother, and his own Dad. He could not help recalling the numberless times they had faced difficulties together and the seemingly limitless supply of side-splitting ejaculations that sprang to the younger boy’s lips and never failed to bring a laugh which relieved the tension of deep feeling. Just then a series of noises were heard, a little like the regular popping of a rifle, and Jim guessed that it must be the explosions of the dynamite. He was surprised that the sounds were not greater and that he felt not the slightest quiver of the earth. This made him believe that they must be some distance from the Amy-Ran fastness.
“Come along. I ain’t waitin’ here,” the Admiral urged, and the General acquiesced without hesitation.
“We can bring ’em with us and see what’s doing. They can’t get away no matter where we are,” he argued. “March, you, en fast.”
They started at once and this time had a fairly good light so they could easily see where they were going. Presently they were hurrying through the hallway, but they turned off before they were half way to the entrance near the plane. Five minutes they scrambled and then the route widened out and descended steeply by way of a gully that was paved with small stones which had probably been washed there during flood seasons and heavy rains. This brought them onto a sort of ledge where they stood suddenly in a good light that reflected a lower ledge about five rods away. Jim could see men hurriedly crowding on this other bit of table and then he was sure that it was the spot where he and the De Castros had been held prisoner.
“Come on, they’ve got something. I’m going over.”
“March, and go fast.”
The General and his fellow guard were determined to see what was taking place and not to be left out of anything, but their eagerness did not make them careless with their captives. They ran as fast as the damp moss permitted along a barely perceptible trail which wound several rods above the ledge on the other side of the canyon, and finally they made the crossing by leaping from great stones about which the water raced swiftly. Soon they too were on the ledge and then Austin saw, to his utter astonishment, that an enormous rock had been jarred out of its base, and behind its thick sagging wall, was some sort of cave, into which the men had leaped.