“I suppose that tourists and mountain climbers come up occasionally,” Jim added.
“Very few. Some years ago there was a half-breed guide who used to bring people. He had rigged a sort of basket and ropes out of fibre, very strong, but two parties were killed because the stuff rubbed on the sharp rocks and broke. The last time, the guide himself took a header into the canyon, and since then everybody gives Amy-Ran a wide birth. As it does not belong to the province of Peru, the government forbade travelers visiting it. Only once in a while a few boys will climb up, but I remember when I came it was even harder to get down than up, and I had no inclination to make a second attempt. When I saw the plane I thought it would be an experience for you to come, and besides I wanted to try that wall again,” said Carlos.
“Glad you brought us,” Jim assured him.
“Satisfied about the opening?” asked Bob.
“Sure. I must have been scared. I suppose I passed one of the ordinary openings, and imagined I felt the stone move behind me. Want to—” he paused abruptly as a sharp hissing sound reached his ears, and an instant later a long rope was coiled about him, dragging him to the ground.
The Flying Buddies recognized the sound and jumped aside in time to get beyond the reach of the lariat, and whirled about. The rope was fastened around a low stone, and two men, one large and burly, while the other was smaller, leaped at them with vicious snarls. They dodged aside as fast as their feet could take them, but after a moment the bigger man had Bob clutched about the waist while in another second Jim and the other fellow were struggling fiercely. Carlos rolled and struggled with his bonds, but he was helpless. Caldwell’s assailant made short work of the young fellow. One sharp jab on his jaw and he was stretched out unconscious, then the big chap sprang to the assistance of Jim’s opponent. He dodged in swiftly, his great fist coming down like a sledge hammer, but Austin was able to duck so the blow grazed his shoulder. With all the strength and speed he could muster, Jim leaped back. He was conscious that the edge of the great cliff was within a few inches of his feet and that a misstep would send him into the abyss below. Crouching he kept his eyes on the two who leered wickedly as they came on, inch by inch, but as they drew close, Jim sprang forward and lighted on his feet a yard beyond them. Then he dared to glance over his shoulder quickly, and backed toward the great wall of the ancient temple.
By that time Carlos was yelling at the top of his lungs, and Austin wondered vaguely why he did it. The sound of his voice echoed and re-echoed eerily through the ancient temple and seemed to die off in a moan among the cliffs of the Andes. Vainly the boy looked for a weapon, a rock or a club, but the winds of the ages had swept the spot clean, and he had only his bare hands with which to defend himself. The two had whirled and were coming upon him again, then suddenly the smalled man paused.
“Come on, give the bunch of them the works. They got it coming to them, the blasted butt-ins,” he snarled. “Shut that howling trap,” he indicated to Carlos whose throat must have ached with his efforts.
“All right, Boss. I was in favor of doing that right along,” the big fellow sneered and quite calmly the pair drew guns from their pockets. As the small man got his ready, something dropped from his holster. It looked like a piece of torn paper, but the chap did not know that he had dropped it. Austin had his back to the longest section of the wall, the other two boys were a short distance away.
“This guy won’t know what hit him,” the big fellow growled maliciously.