Running feet and terrified cries proved that the surprise had demoralized the natives and put them to flight. But hardly had the flash cut into the darkness than it was out and Cliff, seeing it disappear, urged his comrades to retreat with him; their purpose was accomplished and they must be gone before the Spaniard could organize pursuit.
“I found him sound asleep when I threw the light on him,” Bill said as they hurried back up the pass. “He was so dazzled by the light I know he didn’t recognize me, with all the noise to muddle up his mind.”
“Then he has no map,” Cliff declared. “When he is surprised and can’t take time to exercise his willpower a man does things by instinct; I read a lot about that in a book. If a man has something very valuable and he thinks—or doesn’t have time to think—there is any sudden threat to its safety, he makes a grab for it.”
“Well,” Bill told them, “Our ‘friend’ Sancho Pizzara, was sound asleep and when I woke him up, with noise and excitement, he reached for his Crucifix. So, you see, he did not have the map stolen—unless Whackey failed to get there.”
“This Sancho man would be awake—waiting,” Tom objected.
“With his gun ready and—and everything!” Nicky added.
When they reported to Mr. Whitley he agreed that they had fixed the theft of the map and its destination. The Incas!
“That ends our trip,” he declared, “I cannot risk our lads in such dangerous affairs.”
Cliff did not argue; that was not his nature. He did not remind Mr. Whitley that the plan suggested by Cliff before they started and for which certain materials had been packed, would not be likely to incur any danger. He simply sat still and watched Nicky and Tom show their disappointment.
But when the camp was once more quiet, if not asleep, he spoke to his comrades quietly and later on slipped away.