“Nobody’s turning em off.”
“Reckon my battery’s on the fritz.” One chap examined his flash, then exclaimed in disgust, “Yes, the bloomin’ blighter has gone dead on me.”
For several minutes no one spoke and the four captives, who had been shoved into a corner, out of which they could not get without being seen, were listening and watching mutely. The Gonzalas, who probably knew nothing about the ancient history of Peru and its long line of magnificent rulers who had been wiped out of existence centuries ago, stared about them as if they thought they had been brought to some magic cave which was more wonderful than they had ever dreamed any spot in the world could be. Austin’s thoughts were divided between sorrow over the destruction of his Flying Buddy, and regret that after all the generations of careful guarding of the secret, it should at last be discovered and so ruthlessly looted. He wondered how it happened that Ynilea or some of the Laboratory men had been unable to prevent the loss, and then he began to wonder anxiously if anything had happened to the great laboratory and its army of scientists.
“Jimminy Christmas, my light’s going on the blink,” Carp snarled.
“Ain’t it near half an hour?” Joe demanded.
“It’s only ten minutes,” Cardow answered. His watch was lying on the smooth back of one of the seats, and most of the men were gathered close enough so they could see the minutes ticked off. A few of them sat patiently, while others strolled about, surreptitiously slipping small jeweled ornaments into their pockets. Five minutes more passed, and then one of the men started toward the opening, and in a moment he whirled sharply.
“Where’s that door?” he yelled.
“The door?”
“Yeh, the way we got in,” he snarled. As one man they rushed to his side and their jaws dropped.
“I knew it was some trick.” Joe sprang at Cardow with a savage snarl and would have caught him by the throat if a gun had not been poked into his face.