He stammered and gulped.
“Answer to me and Chasca will hear,” Bill said. “Say quickly, do you as Chasca commands?”
But a crafty light was in the Indian’s eyes.
“Let Chasca appear while the curtain is open,” he said.
In English Bill spoke to Cliff. What he said was not understood by the Inca, but it told Cliff they must use the second part of their plan—an emergency had arisen. Bill lifted a hand, calling, “Behold!” but as he did so, attracting the Inca’s eyes toward the curtains, he stepped back a pace. The curtain dropped. Instantly, suspecting a trap, the Inca whirled to face Bill—just as Bill had desired, for at that instant Cliff, who had thus been given time to reach the hanging, flung it aside and leaped upon the Indian from behind as Bill, with a simultaneous leap, flung a hand over the royal mouth.
Struggling, the Inca went down: the surprise helped them. Soon he was gagged with an end of the turban or llantu, the woven wool head dress which he wore when not covered by the crimson or scarlet borla. With an end of the long cloth they hastily cut bindings for hands and ankles. And not too soon.
Across the square came the measured tramp of many feet!
“Will you have time?” asked Cliff, breathlessly.
“I hope so.”
Bill ruthlessly stripped off the borla from the Inca’s head, snatched off his robe of state, and with Cliff’s help made hurried disposal of the inert and helpless body.