Secrets of the Andes

  CHAPTER X

  Train Robbers!

  At Karl's dread discovery the others uttered exclamations of alarm andastonishment.

  "What could have caused it?" asked Bob grimly.

  The aviator shook his head.

  "Can't say," he returned. "Maybe something pierced it while we were inCuba. Could have made a small leak that let out a little at a time. Orthe storm could have done it."

  "Good thing we were able to make it across the Caribbean," remarkedMr. Holton. "If it had been much larger, perhaps we wouldn't be herenow to find it out."

  The short-lived tropical twilight was upon them, with a promise ofdarkness being only a few seconds off.

  "Suppose we put the tent up while we can see to do it," suggested Bob."Then we can attend to the leak in the morning. There's some solder inthe provision compartment, and we can put some of it on now to keepthe remainder of the gas from running out."

  The others thought this good advice. While the youths and thenaturalists made camp, Karl Sutman applied a heavy coat of liquidsolder over the cut in the gasoline tank.

  "I guess we're in a mess," the aviator said disgustedly. "We've usedup all the gasoline in the spare tank, and now we haven't enough totake us twenty-five miles. We could have flown to Bogota easily if ithadn't been for that leak."

  "Bet there isn't a gasoline station within fifty miles of here,"groaned Joe, glancing at the rugged country that was on all sides ofthem.

  Darkness overtook the explorers before they had completed making camp.They were forced to turn on the lights of the monoplane until theycould gather sufficient twigs for a fire.

  When finally a roaring blaze illuminated the sky, they turned tocomplete making the camp.

  As a precaution, this was made on a spot several hundred feet from themonoplane. This would do away with the danger of an explosion, for theintense heat from the fire might easily have ignited the remaining gasin the tank.

  "Now to get a meal," said Bob, edging closer to the blaze to escapethe chill of the tropical night.

  A delicious spread of food was prepared, all eating heartily. Theeventful day had stimulated their appetites highly.

  "I suppose there's no use worrying," grunted Karl, stretching outbefore the fire. "We'll find a way out somehow. If we can't doanything else, we can all hike to a town and carry back enough gas tocarry us a short distance. Then we can hike to another town, and dothe same thing over again."

  "Do these towns around here have gas, though?" came from Joe. DespiteKarl's expression of hope, he feared the worst.

  "That we don't know," Mr. Wallace said. "It may be there hasn't beenan internal-combustion engine in this region for years, if at all."

  A rapidly growing exhaustion made the explorers for the time beingforget their cares and curl up in the tent, after having heaped thefire high with fresh fuel. They had not thought it necessary to standguard, as there was probably nothing in this region that would botherthem.

  The next morning Karl got out a map of South America and spread it outon the tail of the machine.

  "Here we are about twenty miles inland," he said. "The nearest townappears to be about fifteen miles from here. Luckily it's south, andwe won't have to go much off our course."

  "Think we can get gasoline there?" queried Joe.

  "Probably not," Karl answered. "But if we have to we can take a trainto Cartagena--that's a city not far from here on the coast. Of coursethey have gas there."

  They climbed into the monoplane, which, with a roar, rolled over thehigh grass and headed south. Karl kept the machine going at as slow aspeed as possible, for he desired to use every ounce of fuel toadvantage. But even then they made the short trip to the little townin but a few minutes.

  "Here we are, right near the town." Karl climbed out of the cockpitafter having made a perfect landing.

  Scarcely had the explorers stepped to the ground when they caughtsight of a score or more natives running toward them. It was a motleycrowd that surrounded the Americans a few seconds later.

  Surprise, bewilderment, amazement were displayed on the faces of theColombians. The monoplane they viewed with a certain awe that wasalmost childish in its sincerity.

  As soon as the jabbering had abated somewhat, Mr. Holton addressedthem in Spanish, asking if it might be possible to procure gasolinefor the airplane.

  The faces of some were expressionless, but a few shook their heads.

  "We do not use gasoline here," one man said in the native tongue."There are no great birds like this"--pointing to the monoplane--"inour land. And we have no carriages that are not drawn by animals."

  Mr. Holton then asked if it might be possible to get gasoline inCartagena, the city on the coast.

  Strange to say, the people did not know. Evidently they had never beento that place, although it was less than fifty miles distant.

  "Well, then," began Karl, "I suppose one of us will have to take atrain to Cartagena. Whoever goes can take a gasoline can with him andget it filled. Then he can return on the next train." The Americanscould not help laughing at this, however necessary it might have been.The idea of boarding a train for a fifty-mile journey merely to get acan filled with gas seemed provoking.

  "What a predicament!" roared Bob, catching hold of the monoplane inorder to hold his balance.

  "I suppose we ought to take this more seriously," said Karl, who wasalso laughing. "But somehow it all seems humorous to me."

  At sight of the Americans laughing, the crowd of natives looked aboutsullenly. No doubt they thought the newcomers were making fun of them.Finally one man stepped up to Bob, and, with a sneer, utteredsomething in the native language.

  The youth could only catch a word or two, but it was enough to makehim glare at the man in anger.

  "Be careful, Bob," warned his father. "There are too many of them forus to get into a scrap."

  "Aw, I could lick them all with one hand!" snarled the youth, his eyesresting fearlessly on first one and then another of the men.

  He was able to control his temper, however, and as the Colombians madeno further move, he turned to Karl Sutman.

  "Why can't I make that train trip?" he asked. "I'll pay my own fare.Really I'll enjoy it."

  "All right," came from Mr. Wallace. "And I'll go with you. It willtake two to carry the gas can when it's full."

  "Be careful," warned Mr. Holton. "We won't be surprised if you're gonea day or two."

  At the railroad station, which was little more than a mud hut, theyfound that a train would arrive in less than three hours. They thoughtit best to remain near the depot, for the schedule might not beaccurate.

  The train finally came, but, much to their disgust, the two gasseekers were informed by the conductor that they would arrive inCartagena no sooner than four hours later.

  At last they started moving and slowly left the station behind. Thelittle crowd that had assembled to see the train off waved a farewellas it disappeared around a curve.

  Bob and the naturalist gazed intently out of the window at the barrencountry they were passing through. Only at intervals could they makeout an adobe house.

  They had gone perhaps an hour when they were startled by a suddencommotion at the head of the train. Bob was looking out of the windowtrying to make out what was going on when he suddenly felt the traincome to an abrupt stop.

  Wondering what was meant, he and Mr. Wallace had started toward thefront of the coach when they were interrupted by a cry that echoedthrough the train.

  "We're being robbed!" exclaimed Mr. Wallace, hurrying back to theseat. "There's a gang holding up the train!"