Lieut. Sancho finally spied a good place to land and the aeroplane was dropped rapidly into the valley. It settled with hardly a jar or a quiver, much to Jack’s astonishment, who had feared it would collide with the ground with considerable force.
“Well, I don’t see anything of your friend Alvarez,” commented Lieut. Sancho, looking about him after they had left the aeroplane.
“Nor do I,” commented Jack in a rather astonished tone, “what can have become of him?”
“Possibly he has escaped in some way. He is as cunning a fox as there is in the country,” declared Lieut. Diaz.
Jack shook his head, however.
“There is no chance that he could have gotten out unless he followed my path and I think he was not active enough for that.”
“Which way did you get out?” inquired Lieut. Diaz. “Where is that cliff you told us about?”
Jack pointed to the frowning precipice he had scaled. The officers, who could hardly be blamed for doubting him, gazed at the boy sharply. But his frank, honest countenance and modest manner of telling his story soon put their suspicions to rout, although Lieut. Diaz frankly confessed:
“Señor, you are an American boy, and therefore tell the truth; but from anyone else we should have laughed at the story.”