Chapter XIV. A Weary Search - Page 2

likes, I can't stop him. More than likely though, that he'll put it down to some crazy whim of us 'Americanos.' I hope he does. We can talk loudly, when he's around, about how we want to get historical relics, and the Fogers are after the same thing. There have been several expeditions down this way from rival colleges or museums after Aztec relics, and he may think we're one of them. For the golden images are historical relics all right," added Tom in a lower voice.

The Mexicans made no objections to continuing on after supper, once they learned of the double pay, and a little later they went into camp. A turn of the trial hid the Fogers from sight, but Tom and his friends had no doubt but what they were still following.

It was rather novel, traveling along by the light of the brilliant moon, and the boys and Mr. Damon thoroughly enjoyed it. Orders had been given to proceed as quietly as possible, for they did not want the Fogers to learn of the night trip.

"They may see us," Tom had said when they were ready to start, "but we've got to take a chance on that. If the trail divides, however, we can lose them."

"It does separate, a little farther on," Delazes had said.

"Good!" cried Tom, "then we'll fool our rival relic hunters and our museum will get the benefit." He said this quite loudly.

"Ah, then you want the relics for a museum?" asked the Mexican contractor quickly.

"Yes, if they pay enough," replied Tom, and he meant it, for he had no doubt that many museums would be glad to get specimens of the golden images.

Just as they were about to start off Tom had swept the moonlit trail with his night-glass, but there was no sign of the Fogers, though they may have seen their rivals start off.

"Let her go!" ordered Tom, and they were once more underway.

It was about five miles to where the trail divided, and it was midnight when they got there, for the going was not easy.

"Now, which way," asked Delazes, as the caravan came to a halt. "To the left or right?"

"Let me see," mused Tom, trying to remember the map the African missionary had sent him. "Do these roads come together farther on?"

"No, but there is a cross trail about twenty miles ahead by which one can get from either of these trails to the other."

"Good!" cried the young inventor. "Then we'll go to the right, and we can make our way back. But wait a minute. Send a couple of carts on the left trail for about two miles. We'll wait here until they come back."

"The senor is pleased to joke," remarked the Mexican quickly.

"I never was more earnest in all my life," replied Tom.

"What's the answer?" asked Ned.

"I want