“Here’s where Miguel drops down!” laughed Jimmie, his searchlight prying into the details of the cunning device. “Well, well!” he went on, “those old Incas certainly took good care of their precious carcasses. It’s a pity they couldn’t have coaxed the Spaniards into some of their secret passages and then sealed them up!”
The passage ran on to the west after passing the temple for some distance, and then turned abruptly to the north. The lights showed a long, tunnel-like place, apparently cut in the solid rock.
“I wonder if this tunnel leads to the woods we saw at the west of the cove,” Carl asked. “I hope it does!” he added, “for then we can get to the machine and get something to eat and get some ammunition and,” he added hopefully, “we may be able to get away in the jolly old Ann and leave the Indians watching an empty temple.”
“Do you suppose Miguel came into this passage when he dropped out of sight in front of the temple?” asked Jimmie.
“Of course, he did!”
“Then where did he go?”
“Why, back into the temple.”
“Through the den of lions? I guess not!”
“That’s a fact!” exclaimed Carl. “He wouldn’t go through the den of lions, would he? And he never could have traveled this passage to the end and hiked back over the country in time to drop the gate and lift the bars in front of the den! It was Miguel that did that, wasn’t it?” the boy added, turning enquiringly to his chum. “It must have been for there was no one else there.”
“What are you getting at?” asked Jimmie.