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"Bless my scarf pin!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "What does this mean, Tom?"
"Oh, this is the mother of the child I saved from the condor," said Tom. "Every time she sees me she thanks me all over again. How is the baby?" he asked in the Indian tongue, for he was a fair master of it by now.
"The baby is well. Will the mighty hunter permit himself to enter my miserable hovel and partake of some milk and cakes?"
"What do you say, Mr. Damon?" Tom asked. "She's clean and neat, and she makes a drink of goat's milk that isn't bad. She bakes some kind of meal cakes that are good, too. I'm hungry."
"All right, Tom, I'll do as you say."
A little later they were partaking of a rude, but none the less welcome, lunch in the woman's hut, while the baby whose life Tom had saved cooed in the rough log cradle.
"Say, Masni," asked Tom, addressing the woman by name, "don't you know where we can get some men to work the tunnel?" Of course Tom spoke the Indian language, and he had to adapt himself to the comprehension of Masni.
"Men no work tunnel?" she inquired.
"No, they've all skipped out--vamoosed. Afraid of some spirit."
The woman looked around, as though in fear. Then she approached Tom closely and whispered:
"No spirit in tunnel--bad man!"
"What!" cried Tom, almost jumping off his stool. "What do you mean, Masni?"
"Me tell mighty hunter," she went on, lowering her voice still more.
"My man he no want to tell, he 'fraid, but I tell. Mighty hunter save Vashni," and she looked toward the baby. "Me help friends of mighty hunter. Bad man in tunnel--no spirit!
"Men go. Spirit no take um--bad man take um."
"Where are they now?" asked Tom. "Jove, if I could find them the secret would be solved!"
The woman looked fearfully around the hut and then whispered:
"You come--me show!"
"Bless my toothbrush!" cried Mr. Damon. "What is going to happen, Tom Swift?"
"I don't know," was the answer, "but something sure is in the wind. I guess I shot better than I knew when I killed that condor."
Chapter XX
Despair
Calling to a girl of about thirteen years to look after her baby, Masni slipped along up a rough mountain trail, motioning to Tom, Mr. Damon and Koku to follow. Or rather, the woman gave the sign to Tom, ignoring the others, who, naturally, would not be left behind. Masni seemed to have eyes for no one but the young inventor, and the manner in which she looked at him showed the deep grat.i.tude she felt toward him for having saved her baby from the great condor.
"Come," she said, in her strange Indian tongue, which Tom could interpret well enough for himself now.
"But where are we going, Masni?" he asked. "This isn't the way to the tunnel."
"Me know. Not go to tunnel now," was her answer. "Me show you men."
"But which men do you mean, Masni?" inquired Tom. "The lost men, or the bad ones, who are making trouble for us? Which men do you mean?"
Masni only shook her head, and murmured: "Me show."
Probably Tom's attempt to talk her language was not sufficiently clear to her.
"My man--he good man," she said, coming to a pause on the rough trail after a climb which was not easy.
"Yes, I know he is," Tom said. "But he went on a strike with the others, Masni. He no work. He go on a 'hit,' as Serato calls it," and Tom laughed.
"My man he good man--but he 'fraid," said the wife. "He want to tell you of bad mans, but he 'fraid. You save my baby, I no 'fraid. I tell."
"Oh, I see," said Tom. "Your husband would have given away the secret, only he's afraid of the bad men. He likes me, too?"
"Sure!" Masni exclaimed. "He want tell, but 'fraid. He go 'way, I tell."
Tom was not quite sure what it all meant, but it seemed that after his slaying of the condor both parents were so filled with grat.i.tude that they wanted to reveal some secret about the tunnel, only Masni's husband was afraid. She, however, had been braver.
"Something is going to happen," said Tom Swift. "I feel it in my bones!"
"Bless my porous plaster!" cried Mr. Damon. "I hope it isn't anything serious."
"We'll see," Tom went on.
They resumed their journey up the mountain trail. It wound in and out in a region none of them had before visited. Though it could not be far from the tunnel, it was almost a strange country to Tom.
Suddenly Masni stopped in a narrow gorge where the walls of rock rose high on either hand. She seemed looking for something. Her sharp, black eyes scanned the cliff and then with an exclamation of satisfaction she approached a certain place. With a quick motion she pulled aside a ma.s.s of tangled vines, and disclosed a path leading down through a V shaped crack in the cliff.
"Mans down there," she said. "You go look."
For a moment Tom hesitated. Was this a trap? If he and his friends entered this narrow and dark opening might not the Indian woman roll down some rock back of them, cutting off forever the way of escape?
Tom turned and looked at Masni. Then he was ashamed of his suspicion, for the honest black face, smiling at him, showed no trace of guile.
"You go--you see lost men," the woman urged.
"Come on!" cried Tom. "I believe we're on the track of the mystery!"
He led the way, followed by Mr. Damon, while Koku came next and then Masni. It could be no trap since she entered it herself.
The path widened, but not much. There was only room for one to walk at a time. The trail twisted and turned, and Tom was wondering how far it led, when, from behind him, came the cry of the woman:
"Watch now--no fall down."