CHAPTER XXIII
READY FOR ACTION
"I wonder what he has gone in there for?" thought Bob Vilett, asStoodles disappeared in the direction of the House of Tears.
Bob had not long to wait. Stoodles came back as silently as he hadgone.
"Aisy, lad!" he warned. "There's people about."
"I don't see any."
"In the pagoda yonder. There's a dozen or more mourners, all widows."
"Oh, I understand why it is called the House of Tears now," said Bob.
"I was in on them with a stumble. By good luck the lights were low forone thing, and they were all given up to their groaning and mourning.Well, I got these two, anyhow."
"Two what?" interrogated Bob. "Oh, I see," he added, as he made out twocurious garments in the hands of his companion.
Spreading one out at a time, Stoodles showed Bob what they were.
"Any royal mourner," he explained, "wears one of these constantly for afull month after the death of a relative. They are taboo all that time.They must not be hindered. They are free to go where they choose."
"Good," commented Bob, "they'll help us out, then, won't they?"
"Yes. Get into this one, lad; it's the shortest," said Stoodles.
The garment was of one piece, covering a person from head to foot. Itstop was a cap with holes for the eyes only.
When the two friends were arrayed in the garments they presented queerfigures. Each carried his bundle under its ample folds.
The next half-hour was an interesting one for Bob. He simply followedStoodles. Somehow he could not help but have confidence in the whimsicalold fellow. For one thing, Stoodles certainly knew his ground well fromexperience. Besides that, he had been successful in carrying his pointwhen he had before visited the native town when they were marooned onthe island by the _Raven_ crowd.
It was now past midnight. As they progressed Bob could see that theywere nearing a lot of habitations.
For the most part the native village made up of squalid-looking huts.
Here and there, however, were some more pretentious structures. So farthey had not met a single person.
"The palace, the home of the king, that same," said Stoodles, as theypaused near the largest building they had yet seen.
"What's the programme?" asked Bob.
"You see that little pagoda attached behind?"
Bob nodded affirmatively.
"That is the council temple. I must get in there."
"It looks easy," said Bob. "Those sides of matting are not hard tobreak through."
"No, but the place is guarded day and night by as many as six natives,"explained Stoodles. "They sleep all around the curtained dais thatholds the royal throne. Lad, I must get to that throne."
"All right," said Bob. "And what am I to do?"
"Listen very carefully. You see that big rock in the center of thesquare yonder?"
"With a great bowl-like thing at the top of it?" asked Bob.
"Yes. That is the public tribune, or place where the king's messengersmake announcements to the people. That big bowl is filled with aperfumed water once a year, and the people pass under it while the highpriest of the tribe throws a few drops over each of them."
"Go ahead," said Bob, "this is kind of interesting."
"Now then," pursued Stoodles, "I have planned out just what I want tohave you do. Don't make any miss, lad."
"I'll make no miss--you just instruct me," said Bob.
"You are to climb up into that bowl. It's perfectly dry now. It's deepenough to hold you and all your traps. In just an hour you fire off arevolver, its full round of charges. Get your balloon ready. I'll handyou up the phonnygraph. Start it up--that's all."
"But what's going to come of it all?"
"You will soon see that."
"And what am I to do when the performance is over?" demanded Bob.
"I'll see that you are properly taken care of," declared Stoodles.
"All right," said Bob. "I suppose you know what you are about, but it'sa pretty elaborate programme you are laying out."
"Oh, I know how to hocus these superstitious people, that's all," saidStoodles lightly. "I've done it before, you know."
Stoodles took Bob over to the public tribune. Everybody in the villageseemed to be asleep. They were apparently unnoticed and undisturbed asthey got the bundles up into the great bowl.
Bob climbed in after. Stoodles gave him a few last words of direction.Then he started off to carry out his own part of the programme.
The side of the great earthen bowl in which Bob now found himself wasperforated all around the scalloped outer edges. Bob kept Stoodles insight as long as he could by peering through one of these.
"He has gone in the direction of the royal council room," thought Bob."This is a queer go. I wonder how it will turn out? In an hour, hesaid--all right."
Bob looked at his watch, flashing a match for the purpose. Then hearranged the various paraphernalia that were to take part in PatStoodles' programme.
He got the phonograph placed to suit him and ready for action at amoment's notice. Bob also prepared one of the small paper balloons so hecould light the alcohol sponge on the wire on its bottom withoutigniting the tissue paper. A perforated asbestos globe he had himselfdesigned, enabled him to do this with facility.
The native village slept. No sound broke the silence of the mysticmidnight hour.
Bob again consulted his watch. The hour prescribed by Stoodles hadpassed.
"Everything must have worked smoothly with Pat," thought the youngengineer. "I'm due to start the ball rolling all right. Here goes!"