The letter read:
“Clifford Gray; Sir:
“You don’t know me. I don’t know you. But I think we will know each other.
“I caught a tame eaglet and found your pa’s letter. There was a map, too. It was to show how he got to where he went into the valley.
“I kept the map. Tell you why. I went to the place and saw the valley. I am a prospector and know these cordillerras.
“Reason I kept the map is I want to be with you if you go to find your pa. If you don’t it’s not any use to you anyhow. If you do I can help.
“What I want is some of that Inca gold. Not a lot. Enough to settle down, buy a ranch, live easy. I will be in Cuzco at the Tambo Atahualpa—that means Atahualpa hotel, for a while, till I hear from you. Let me know. With you and a couple more I could find your father and we could get him out.
“Signed respectfully, “Quipu Bill Sanders.”
“Oh—if we could!” Cliff said. It was clear that his comrades felt exactly as he did.
Mr. Whitley was very thoughtful. While the trio discussed possibilities and re-read the two letters time after time, he sat without saying anything. Finally he looked up.
“See here,” he told them, “you have made me a member of your secret order and asked for advice.” They nodded eagerly.
“I think,” he went on, “that if your relatives would let you go with me, it would be an instructive and an interesting trip.”
The chums agreed with that quite heartily. But how?—where was money to come from?
“I have been given some money recently. I inherited it,” Mr. Whitley informed them, “I will be glad to advance the amount for expenses. If we find Cliff’s father and rescue him I shall feel that the money is well spent.”
“And there is the treasure!” Nicky exclaimed.
“Yes,” John Whitley agreed. There began an eager discussion of what they would do with their shares; but the young history instructor became rather serious.