“Ah,” said Don Ernesto, shrugging, “these soldiers, they are frightened of us. The Golden Palace Guard is trembling in its armor. We have nothing to fear.”
“That’s just it,” said Jack. “Maybe Cinto realizes he cannot trust to these soldiers to attack us, and so he has gone to get others who have not fallen under our spell.”
“We’ll keep our eyes open, Jack,” said his father. “That’s a hunch worth attention.”
“By golly, Dad, the Inca is following us all right. They’re bringing up a litter for him. Four bearers are carrying it.”
“We won’t look back, Don Ernesto,” said Mr. Hampton. “It would injure our dignity to do so. Don’t stare, Jack. Thank heaven, the old boy is coming. That means not only that we have got him on the run, but also that Cinto won’t attempt any demonstration against us while the Inca is present, in all likelihood.”
The terrace was reached, and Jack and Frank at once began setting up the aerial. They had brought along a second umbrella aerial similar to that set up on the battlement of the Acropolis, which had been included in the outfit, and this they proceeded to set up. Then the three, Jack, Bob and Frank, connected up batteries, tube transformer and headphone. Meanwhile Mr. Hampton was staring covertly at the battlement of the Acropolis, towering high on the distant side of the square opposite. Would Michac fail them? Or would he carry out his part in the plot successfully? Mr. Hampton was thankful to think that, even if Michac should fail them, they were out in the open where they stood a better chance for their lives in a fight, and, also, that they had already roused a wholesome respect for their power in the breasts of their enemies.
The boys worked with lightning swiftness. They were grateful for the delay in the arrival of the Inca, whose movements were attended by so many ceremonies that it was a considerable time before he had reached the terrace and was ensconced in a great chair brought out for him by other bearers.
“Put on the headphone, Jack, and try it. See whether our friend Michac is at his post,” whispered Mr. Hampton, when the last connections were completed.
Jack complied, adjusting the tuner to the meter wave length at which he had set Michac’s instrument. A smile broke over his face, and he nodded to his father.
“Senor Jack, I am ready. My man at the parapet tells me you are at the ’phone. Thanks be to the gods, that you are safe out of that trap. I have been in agony, lest you be overcome and go to your death. I saw the soldiers move into the palace behind you. Now, if you let me speak to the Inca, I shall do my part.”