And Bruno brought up the rear as guard, eyes and rifle ready.
CHAPTER XIX. THE CHILDREN OF THE SUN GOD.
No difficulty whatever was experienced in reaching that retreat, and milder prisoner never knew a guard than Ixtli proved himself to be, silently yielding to each impulse lent his arm by Waldo, smiling when, as sometimes happened, he was brought more nearly face to face with that armed rear-guard.
Nor were the Gillespie brothers worried by sound, sign, or token of more serious trouble from others of that strangely surviving race. And it was not long after reaching the rendezvous from which the professor had sailed in the early dawn, that the youngsters agreed the echoes of their Winchesters could not have reached the ears of the Lost City inhabitants.
“That's plenty good luck for one soup-bunch,” quoth Waldo, yet adding a dubious shake of the head as he gazed upon their bronzed companion. “And if it wasn't for this gentleman in masquerade costume—”
“Ixtli friend. Ixtli feel like heart-brother,” came in low, mellow accents from those smiling lips.
There certainly was naught of guile or of evil craft to be read in either eyes or visage, just then; but the brothers could not feel entirely at ease, even yet. How many times had warriors of his colour played a cunning part, only to end all by blow of tomahawk, thrust of knife, or bolt from the bended bow?
At a barely perceptible sign from Bruno, his brother drew apart, leaving their “white elephant” by himself, yet none the less under a vigilant guard.
“He seems all right, in his way,” muttered the elder Gillespie, “but how far ought we to trust him, after what we promised uncle Phaeton?”