But—and here was where the hunch came in—there was a district in the Sikkim Himalayas of Bengal whose capital was Darjeeling—Land of the Diamond Thunderbolt. Why had it been called that? Was there some legend back of it?
There was, he had learned. For though in modern times the phrase had come to apply merely to the Lama's scepter, as Professor Prescott had pointed out, originally it had carried another meaning—for legend said that once a diamond meteor had fallen on the mighty slopes of Kinchinjunga.
That had been enough for Stoddard. He had followed his hunch, had got himself attached to the American Kinchinjunga expedition—
"And that's why I'm here, and all about it," he finished. "Now, then, are you coming back with me and have a look at my Diamond Thunderbolt, or am I going back alone?"
A long moment the professor debated, before replying.
"Yes, I'll come with you," he said at length, extending his hand. "Forgive me, Jack. I didn't know, or—"
"Forget it," said Stoddard shaking. "How the devil could you, till I told you? But just one thing. Mum's the word—right?"
"Right!"
"And one thing more. It may be—well, a one-way trip."
"Forget it."