“I should say that what you have here would fetch two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in the value of the jewels alone,” he said. “As to what they are worth as relics of a vanished race, I am not prepared to say.”
Half an hour later, while they still sat awed and silent about the pile of wonderful relics, Ding-dong Bell appeared lugging an armful of photographic plates.
“We got some dandy pictures,” he began, “we—— Wer-wer-well, I’ll be jer-jer-jer-jig-gered!”
For the first time in his life Ding-dong Bell was fairly taken aback and bereft of all speech. He could only stand and blink in owl-like fashion at the marvelous display laid out before him.
“Nat! Nat! wake up!”
The voice sounded in the ear of the leader of the Motor Rangers, and was accompanied by a violent shaking of his shoulder.
“What is it, Joe? Here, quit shaking my bed, I——”
“I’m not shaking your bed, Nat. It’s the whole island that’s shaking! Quick, help me arouse the others!”
Nat was awake in a flash. As he hastily drew on some clothes a strange moaning noise filled the air. It was followed by a rushing sound overhead.