“If he doesn’t,” said Jack, “what’s to prevent us from bluffing this High Priest, Cinto, into putting them on? We can ask simply whether he is afraid. That ought to floor him. He won’t dare admit fear of another’s magic. For that matter, we can bluff the Inca into listening by the same method.
“Anyway,” Jack continued, “either of your objections can be met. We can say that the Lord from Beyond the Mountains speaks from the sky, and ask the Inca to come to that great platform before the Temple. Then we can put up our set there, and from the battlements here, Michac can see just who is listening on the ’phones, and when to speak.”
“Jack, I believe you’ve got it,” said his father, heartily. “Well, let’s go.”
“Look here,” said Bob, suddenly. “Michac can’t see from where this set is located. He can’t get sight of the square at all. But I’ve got an idea, too. Jack, you give him your field glasses, and explain them to him. Then he can station a trusty man in the embrasure there, with the glasses, and this man can make sure beyond possibility of a doubt, who is listening-in and when, and just call the information to Michac.”
The glasses were brought, a soldier instructed in their use, and two others put at the generator. Then Michac escorted the party to the fortress gate, and they set out across the square. Before resuming his station on the battlements, Michac assembled two strong parties under trusty petty officers, and stationed them at the main gate and at the sally port at the foot of the Acropolis, reached by a stairway hewn from the living rock. It was there the surprise attack had been delivered the night before.
“Keep close watch,” he commanded, “and if you see these strangers return in haste, pursued by the Palace Guard, dash forth to their rescue. They go to attempt the delivery of Prince Huaca.”
That last statement, he new, would steel their arms, for the common soldiers of the fortress adored Prince Huaca. Then he returned to the battlements to await developments.
By that time he could see the party, led by the Inca’s messenger, marching two abreast, in step, with Pedro and Carlos in the rear, bearing the radio outfit, reach the wide stone stairway sweeping up to the Incarial palace, which adjoined the Temple on the left. He was torn by conflicting emotions at the sight, hope that the marvels of the strangers would accomplish the impossible, fear for the possible effects of Cinto’s treachery.
Steadily they marched up the steps, received at the head of the flight by an armed guard in glittering armor, which closed about them. Fear overcame hope in Michac’s breast. Against those splendid armor-clad warriors, how could his newfound friends hope for success. His heart failed him. Had he been wise in permitting them to go? Were they not going to certain death, in spite of fair promises?
“Oh, Huaca, Huaca, my friend and leader,” he said to himself, in momentary despair, “I shall never see you alive again. My poor country!”