When he had left, the boys began to laugh over their recent experience, but Mr. Hampton and Don Ernesto were thoughtful. They looked at each other understanding and spoke together, low-voiced. Then Mr. Hampton turned to the lads.
“We’re afraid it can’t be done,” he said. “It was good fun, and all that. But the chances of failure are too great to warrant us in imperiling our lives. It is true, we might go to the Inca as a delegation under a flag of truce, but we have no guarantee its sanctity would be regarded.”
“Oh, Dad, everybody regards the sanctity of a flag of truce.”
Jack’s tone was disappointed.
But Mr. Hampton shook his head.
“I’m afraid the risk is too great.”
“Look here, Dad, I’ve got an idea. You know my ring radio set? I’ve got it with me. We can take that along with us to the audience. Then we’ll tell the Inca that the white man’s god wants to speak to him, clap the ring on his finger, adjust the headphone for him, and, from our station on top of the fortress, order him to release Prince Huaca and punish the conspirators against him. Now don’t say it can’t be done, Dad, for it can, and you know it can. We’ve got plenty of wire, and can run up all the aerial necessary in a trice, stand the Inca on one of those gold flagstones in his palace and give him what he asks for.”
Mr. Hampton laughed.
“Not so bad, Jack, but——”
“Besides, Mr. Hampton,” interposed Frank, “remember we have our pistols—and automatics are something these people aren’t accustomed to. That is another marvel.”