“You have learned something of our secrets,” he admitted. “I do not know how you came to find the path here. It has not been used for many years. The priest you killed was one of those ordained to prepare the bodies of our principal men, and he was at work in his cave on that of Prince Tillo.”
“We saw it,” remarked Nick coolly. “But it had no head.”
“That is according to our custom,” returned Calaman. “When important Bolongus die, they are embalmed by an ancient and secret process. Then they are wrapped in finely beaten gold and placed in the temple. We were on our way to get Prince Tillo’s body when we encountered you. The Festival of the Golden Scarab is soon to take place, and we wanted to have the prince’s body in its niche in the temple before that day.”
“That sounds like the worst kind of rot to me,” whispered Patsy to Chick. “It seems to me as if most of the guys in this country are nutty.”
“Hush!” reproved Chick. “Listen and look—and say nothing. You ought to know that that’s the right thing by this time.”
Just then one of the guards who was carrying a box of cartridges stumbled and dropped the box with a crash on the rocky path.
Calaman, with a terrific scowl, stopped his mule. The other soldiers shrunk away from their unfortunate comrade.
“See, now, strangers,” broke out the priest, in metallic tones, “I also have the power to kill. I cannot do it from afar, like you. But, on the other hand, I use no weapon. Watch!”
Turning to the guard who had dropped the box, he stared at him steadily.
“Dog and son of a dog!” he thundered. “Look!”