They hung high in the air, watching the two tiny figures, invisible except through the glasses, move ever so slowly up the winding road. Imperceptibly Ernest allowed the plane to settle until with the naked eye they could see the face of the mountain with the dark gashes along the trail here and there, where the openings to the caves smeared the rock. Then a violent start and gasp from Eddie startled Ernest so that the plane ducked.
“Look, look!” he screamed. “There it is! There is the face in the rock! See the eyebrows made of the bushy trees? That was what all the messages and the writing in the book was driving at! I bet there is where the tramps will land!”
“I bet you are right,” said Ernest, no less excited than the boys. “Where are they now?”
“Just coming around the bend! Oh, gosh, they are going to sit down!”
“Well, if they are loaded up with dynamite and infernal machines, I bet they are good and ready to rest,” said Dee.
However, in a couple of minutes the men plodded on and soon, as the boys watched breathlessly, they reached the queer face, and like shadows disappeared and were gone.
“They have gone in, sure as shooting!” exclaimed Eddie in awed tones. “Now what next, Ern?”
“More watchful waiting, kid,” replied Ernest. “Don’t take your glass off that face. If they leave, we will go down and explore. If they stay, we will get some help from Camp and take ’em alive.”
For what seemed an eternity the plane hung there, swinging idly on the air currents, the boys straining their eyes at the glasses.
Then at last, one after another, two figures appeared, stood for a moment, and passed rapidly down the trail. Ernest with a sigh of relief settled a little more and saw the big car of the stranger turn and make rapidly out of the Camp.