“We wished to explore this so famous Amy-Ran,” came a second voice and Jim whirled.
“Yncicea—you here and Corso—Gosh but we are lucky, and gee, it’s great to see you close again.”
“Yes, Jim Scout, you are lucky. Our apologies for not being more prompt to assist you,” the youngster grinned.
“What did you do to their guns?” Jim demanded softly.
“That is something I have not learned yet, Jim Scout, but when you are in the laboratory again, ask my esteemed father. You have been having some troublesome adventures,” he added so softly that Carlos could not overhear. “You may introduce us to your companion as friends from Vermont.”
“All right.” It was done in a moment, and Carlos thought the “tourists” had merely happened along at a timely moment, heard his yells and hastened to their assistance. He thanked them with great politeness, and urged them to pay a visit to his home. It did not occur to him to inquire how they got there and they made no attempt to enlighten him.
“Gee, I wish we were staying on while you are here,” Bob said cordially. “But we probably have to start Dad home day after tomorrow.”
“We are leaving, tonight,” Corso told them. Just then they heard an angry snarl, turned quickly in time to see the small man lower himself over the edge of the cliff and disappear from sight. The other chap had not moved, and now Corso went to him but there was nothing he could do.
“I saw that fellow drop this,” Jim picked up the piece of paper. It was the same sort that he had found in the old room dug from the root cellar at the Gordon’s ranch, and he whistled as he examined the piece. There were a number of dim lines, like some old-time diagram, and only a part of one word—“an” was left. Quietly the boy handed it to Corso. The man looked at it, then smiled.
“This is the part he should not have lost,” he announced as he tucked it into his pocket. “Thank you.”