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 Mastering Python

A Comprehensive Guide to Hardcore Programming, Data Analysis, and Coding

Projects

Vera Poe
Copyright © [2024] by [vera poe] all rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission
from the publisher or author, except as permitted by u.s. Copyright law.

This publication is designed to provide accurate and authoritative information in

regard to the subject matter covered. It is sold with the understanding that neither
the author nor the publisher is engaged in rendering legal, investment, accounting
or other professional services. While the publisher and author have used their best
efforts in preparing this book, they make no representations or warranties with
respect to the accuracy or completeness of the contents of this book and
specifically disclaim any implied warranties of merchantability or fitness for a
particular purpose. No warranty may be created or extended by sales
representatives or written sales materials. The advice and strategies contained
herein may not be suitable for your situation. You should consult with a
professional when appropriate. Neither the publisher nor the author shall be liable
for any loss of profit or any other commercial damages, including but not limited
to special, incidental, consequential, personal, or other damages.
 TABLE OF CONTENTS

INTRODUCON

Chapter 1: Python Programming Basics

Chapter 2: Learning python programming language and how to read the code

Chapter 3: How to read errors and troubleshoong your code

Chapter 4: Learn the hard core of python computer programming

Chapter 5: How coding works

Chapter 7 Drawing With Turtles

Chapter 8 Asking the Right Ques ons

Chapter 9 Secrets and hacks of python programming

Conclusion
 INTRODUCON
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Bprogram.A BTheseA BlanguagesA BincludeA BJavaScript,A BC++,A

BandA BPython.A BAsA BweA BstartA BlearningA BaboutA BPythonA

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BcodingA Bskills.

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Title: Airplane Boys at Platinum River

Author: E. J. Craine

Release date: March 15, 2018 [eBook #56746]

Language: English

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AIRPLANE BOYS AT PLATINUM RIVER

Airplane Boys At Platinum River
BY E. J. CRAINE

THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING CO.

CLEVELAND, O. NEW YORK, N. Y.
 Copyright, 1931
by
THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING COMPANY

Printed in the United States of America

In this fifth book of the Airplane Boys, Jim
and Bob risk their lives to help a worthy
family out of their difficulties.
 CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE
I. An Old Enemy 9
II. Delayed Return 25
III. Unidentified 41
IV. A Distress Call 56
V. Platinum River 75
VI. Capture 91
VII. Through Space 107
VIII. The Air Battle 123
IX. Taken for a Ride 138
X. Shivering Rocks 154
XI. Treasure 170
XII. Gross Exaggeration 187
Airplane Boys At Platinum River
 CHAPTER I

AN OLD ENEMY

“I say, Buddy, my esophagus feels as if my pharynx is severed,”

Robert Caldwell remarked very soberly to his step-brother, Jim
Caldwell, as the pair made their way among the gay crowd attending
the Spanish-Peruvian fiesta near Cuzco.
“That’s right serious, old man. Think somebody shot an arrow into
the air while you were asleep with your mouth open and it dropped
in?” the older boy inquired with equal gravity.
“Is that any way to treat a fellow who is empty to his boot tips
and just when I am beginning to discard vulgar slang for something
real cultured in the way of language?” Bob demanded.
“Oh! Do you perchance happen to be trying to convey the idea
that you are hungry? Why don’t you say so in good old Texas, long
may she reign, talk!”
“Well, when do we tank up?”
“Looks to me as if Carlos de Castro is going to be late. He said
that he might, so we may as well make a landing and take on fuel,”
Jim agreed cheerfully. They proceeded toward the section where a
number of tables were set up in stalls beside rows of tropical plants
growing in tubs, but it appeared that Bob was not the only person
who was anxious to get something to eat, for everyplace they saw
was occupied.
“A table, Senors?” inquired a deferential waiter, who bowed with
great politeness, then led the way to the further end of the serving
space. He dragged a pair of kegs into the shelter of the foliage,
swung a wide board over the top of them, produced a cloth from
under his coat and with a great flourish smoothed it out. Two chairs
appeared from behind a pile of boxes. “Presto,” he smiled widely.
“Pronto,” Bob replied. Placing one hand over his belt buckle, he
bowed deeply. “Before me, esteemed brother.”
“If I were behind you there is no telling what I’d do to you,” Jim
answered. “Why this reversion to days when knighthood was
budding?” He took one of the seats and Caldwell the other.
“I’m letting Spanish manners get under my skin—”
“Looks more like wood-ticks—” Austin interrupted. “They make a
horse skid around just that way.”
“And I want to impress Mom when we get home, old man. Have
you forgotten that we take the air at crack of dawn to-morrow and
our bird is to set us down on the K-A ranch before the sun’s evening
rays can reach the peak of Cap Rock?”
“Sure I know.” Jim’s eyes glistened. “It’ll be great to sail through
space like that and so high that no one will see us, but just the
same, me Flying Buddy, if you go acting like that around your
mother, she’ll think that something is the matter with you, and it will
be a dose of oil for yours.” At that the two laughed heartily, but their
merriment was cut short by the appearance of the waiter with huge
platters of mighty good-looking food, so they proceeded to do it
justice.
“The meals in Peru are almost as good as in Texas,” Bob remarked
after he had helped himself and made his first attack.
“Right-O, but it will be grand to get home,” Jim declared. They did
not talk any more but gave their undivided attention to the meal,
and while it was in process, they noted indifferently that two men
had been ushered to the table the other side of the artificial hedge
and a bit forward of their own. That place too had been put up
roughly to accommodate the extra crowd and was a bit apart from
the others. Jim, who was facing the festival, had the better view of
the occupants and through the branches he could see the rather
stout, stooped shoulders of one’s back, and occasionally caught a
glimpse of the other’s face. He was a slender, dark man whose
bearing was quite military, and about his lips played a smile that was
more like a sneer than an indication of a cheerful disposition.
“Wall—I’m here,” the heavier man announced with surliness, and
Bob turned cautiously at the sound of that voice but couldn’t see the
faces of either men.
“So it is. You have a difficult time had,” the first speaker began.
“We will of refreshments partake, my good sir, then we can talk in
this so exclusive little corner without fear—without undue fear,” he
added as he took the precaution to glance around. Jim bent his head
low over his plate and it did not seem to occur to the man that
another couple might have been placed so far beyond the dining
space. “You had an accident and have been in the hospital.”
“Yah. I sent you word from the hospital, didn’t I?”
“That is true. It was grievous that your accident should have come
at such an inopportune moment; when there was work for you,” the
other remarked, and there was an odd insinuation in his voice.
“If you, or your boss thinks I cracked up because I wanted to, you
have got another think coming—see! I wasn’t even piloting the plane
when she came down—” There was anger in the tone and Jim saw
the man’s shoulders straighten and lean forward a trifle.
“Control your temper, my friend. I merely remarked it was too bad
for you—”
“Oh, you did—well—maybe you got another guess coming on that
too,” the other answered. The waiter brought them wine, which they
sipped in silence until the man was well out of ear-shot.
“Another guess, you say?”
“That’s what I said.” Bob, who had been leaning so that he could
hear every word easily, glanced questioningly at Jim.
“Know them?” his lips formed, and Jim shook his head that he
didn’t.
“Do you?” he asked softly.
 “One, I think. Listen!” They attended to their own food as quietly
as possible but every faculty was alert. Aside from noticing that the
two men seemed an ill-assorted pair Jim had not been greatly
interested, but now that Bob thought he recognized one of them, he
was anxious to learn more. The Flying Buddies had managed to get
into so many adventures since the summer months when they had
dropped Her Highness down in Canada almost at the feet of a Royal
Mounty and had offered to help the patrol man capture border-
runners, that caution was a fixed habit with both of them. They had
found that it paid.
“Now, look here,” the stout man began aggressively, “I ain’t a part
of your outfit—see!”
“I observe, but you have worked—not too successfully—with us.”
“Yah. I went into that fool Don business with Lilly Boome.”
“Why broadcast?”
“Well, I did, and it wasn’t my fault it didn’t come out so good.”
“That has been admitted by the chief himself. The Don is a very
clever man.”
“Yah, he is. I went there like I owned the place, and he put it all
over us, like a crab-net, see? Now, I’m told you’re wanting me to get
work in this new power works down here—”
“It will not be difficult—”
“You haul in your horns. If it’s so easy why don’t you do it
yourself? Now listen, I told you I don’t belong to your outfit and I
ain’t taking orders from your chief—not me. See? I heard on good
authority that there are some of the Don’s own tribe in that works—
and I’m not buttin’ in against any of them. That’s flat and final,” he
declared emphatically.
Then, into Jim’s mind dashed the recollection of the evening he
and Bob had dined with Don Haurea at the Box Z ranch, which
adjoined the K-A along Cap Rock in Texas. They were so well
entertained by their new friend that they failed to note the passage
of the hours and it was quite late when an automobile brought a
former housekeeper of the ranch, a lawyer with a brief-case full of
legal documents, and a man whom they claimed was a son of Don
Haurea’s father. The Don had made short work of them, and now,
Jim was sure that he recognized the broad back of Ollie, who had
posed as the son. Even to the boys the scheme had seemed too
stupid for anyone with a grain of sense to take part in or try to put
over, but later the Don had explained that it was an attempt to get
him and his property tied up by law. While there could be no
possible doubt as to the outcome of the suit if the matter ever got
as far as that, the rogues expected to have an uninterrupted
opportunity to ferret out ancient secrets and perhaps find great
wealth which they thought was concealed somewhere about the
Box-Z Ranch. The Flying Buddies exchanged surprised glances, but
neither moved nor spoke as they sat listening.
“You should not be afraid—” the man sneered.
“Afraid, that’s good! Well, big boy, maybe I am afraid, but I’m not
touchin’ the job, see! I got something myself that ain’t such little
potatoes as blowing up a power-plant or putting a crimp in the
works. That’s my answer.”
“In your answer I am interested.”
“Maybe you are, and maybe you ain’t, but if you knew what it
was, you would be—and how,” Ollie retorted.
“You have perhaps discovered a gold mine!” the man suggested.
“I have, perhaps, and perhaps it’s something better than gold.
Now, you listen. You know I was flying with another guy to Cuzco to
meet you, and we came down like a thousand bricks,” Ollie said.
“That I have heard. I watched the funeral of the pilot and I sent to
you flowers and jelly and wine to the hospital,” the other man
answered casually.
“Yah. Well, I crawled out of the wreck after somebody else had
picked up the pilot and took him to the hospital. Then I tried to
make a fire to keep warm by and signal, and while I was asleep it
burned up what was left of the plane. I had to get a move on or be
cooked myself, and I nearly was. I found some berries and roots that
I ate and days afterward I managed to drag myself to a trapper’s
hut, and the man took me to the nearest settlement. Now—when I
was crawling from that bon-fire, I found something swell—swell.” He
straightened his back and cocked back his head. “Waiter,” he
shouted. “More wine—plenty more.”
“You should be moderate with wine after having been ill,” the
other man reminded him.
“Yah. Maybe I should. Not because I’ve been ill, but because I
might talk too much—”
“You’re not exactly tight-mouthed at the moment.”
“Think you’re funny, don’t you? Well, you trot back to your High
Chief, or whatever he is, and tell him if he’s interested I’ll go fifty-
fifty with him. He can divide his share anyway he likes, but fifty per
cent is mine and no questions asked.”
“Probably you have found an ancient Ynca treasure hole. They are
being found every day, and when investigated—nothing more
valuable than a crumbling mummy is revealed,” the other told him.
“You ain’t no good at guessin’. If I hadn’t cracked the plane I’d go
back and get the whole works myself, but you tell your chief that’s
my proposition,” Ollie answered insolently. “A lot of guys will jump at
the chance the minute I spring it, but you fellows get first crack.”
“Very generous of you.”
“Sure, I’m generous.”
“Should I have the great audacity to return to my ‘chief’ as you
call him, he would think me crazy, my friend. You’ll have to give me
something more than vague phrases to repeat to him. In the first
place, your story is not convincing, regardless of what you found.
You were injured, it was days before you reached the trapper’s
cabin, you could not return to the spot,” the other objected.
“I ain’t such a nut as I look. I can go right back to that spot, and
don’t you forget it,” Ollie boasted.
“Did you make a map of the locality?”
“Ain’t you cute? Why don’t you ask if I have it with me?”
 “You are too quick, my friend. It is unfair to be so sensitive. As a
man of the world you are perfectly aware that no one would
consider any proposition unless he knew what he is going after.”
“All right. I’ll tell you. It’s platinum—” Ollie spoke more softly, but
Bob understood what he said.
“My friend, there has been no platinum discovered in Peru in
hundreds of years. There was, at one time, a small amount of it, but
never a very great quantity. Not enough to make it worth thinking
about. The world gets it in quantities from Russia, and these Andes
have been searched diligently, but there is little here.”
“That’s where you are wrong.”
“How do you know it was platinum?”
“Listen, big boy, during the war we had to have it, and I flew with
some other lads into Russia to get it, see? We came out with it—I
got more than any other man in the outfit, and I brought it back. I
know what I’m talking about.”
“That is indeed interesting. I shall present your proposition to the
chief and I am sure that he will be most happy to discuss the matter
with you.” He extended his hand with a smile and Ollie accepted it
with a swaggering toss of his head.
“I knew I’d get you on the run. Come on, I want to have a dance
with one of those Spanish girls—they sure have pretty girls here.”
The pair rose quickly and a moment later strode off toward the
dancing pavilion.
“Whew! Wouldn’t that rattle your great-aunt’s false teeth!” Bob
whistled.
“Or make the dear lady do a Highland Fling,” Jim added. “So, this
is where little Ollie took himself after he left the Don’s that night.
Guess the United States got kind of hot for him. Wonder if he has
discovered platinum?”
“Well, if he has, he’ll never see a flake of it,” Bob remarked
soberly. “That Chief, or whatever he is, will get the whole shooting
match away from him so quickly it’ll make his head spin.”
 “Let’s have some dessert and if Carlos doesn’t show up by the
time we’ve finished, we’d better go home. The mail will be in and
there will be letters from Dad and your mother.”
“Suits me,” Bob agreed. They motioned to the waiter and ordered
a pastry, but before it was half finished, Jim happened to look up.
“Here comes Carlos now. Somebody is with him.” Bob glanced
around and then they saw that a man was following Carlos, on
rather walking close behind him.
“Senors, I have searched for you,” Carlos called, then he stopped
as the man came closer.
“Pardon, senor. You picked up a wallet which was dropped by my
friend who was taken ill,” he said very politely.
“Yes, I did pick up some sort of case, but I don’t know about
handing it over to a stranger,” Carlos answered good-naturedly.
“My friend was taken ill and is now on the way to the hospital,”
the man urged. “I am distressed and would go to him at once.”
“Yes, of course,” the young fellow hesitated, then the man stepped
close and one hand was pressed against Carlos’ side. The Flying
Buddies saw the move, and sprang up.
“I say, old thing, what’s the idea?” Bob demanded.
“Sure you are not off your wave length?” Jim added. Four fists
were clenched hard and two pairs of eyes flashed angrily. “Keep your
hand in your pocket, old timer.” They shoved in between their pal
and the chap who accosted him, but just as they did so, two huge
men leaped from the background and one of them caught Carlos on
the chin with such a crack that he dropped to the floor, but he rolled
over on his face before the fellow could put a hand into his breast
pocket. In a moment fists and feet were flying in a grand free-for-all,
and someone, probably the manager of the place, pranced about
trying to round up the fighters into a shed or anyplace out of sight of
the crowd.
“My business, my business,” he wailed, then, almost as suddenly
as the scrap had started, the three boys were yanked to their feet
and they found themselves in a huge kitchen.
“He stole a wallet that belongs to my friend,” the first chap
accused. “Search him and you’ll find it.” A very tall man in a clean
white suit stepped forward as if to carry out the request, but Jim
quickly put a detaining hand on the fellow’s arm.
“I say, listen—” he urged. The man looked down at the boy and
for the briefest instant his eyes rested on the green emerald ring he
always wore. “That chap is lying—”
“Put them out,” he snapped to a huge attendant, who looked more
like a great gorilla than a human being.
“Si.”
“I tell you—”
“Depart.” In less time than it takes to tell it, the assaulting party
were kicked out of the kitchen, down a pair of slippery stairs and
into a shallow hole used for slop water. They cursed and sputtered
alternately, but the bouncer raised his foot again, so they scrambled
away from the vicinity as fast as they could go.
“Your names, young gentlemen,” the tall chap said politely.
“I’m Jim Austin,” the Flying Buddy began and proceeded to
introduce his companions.
“And I am Alonzo de Zimmon. I regret that you should have had
such an unpleasant experience in my establishment.” He held out his
hand to Bob, who promptly accepted it, and his eyes rested on the
mate to Caldwell’s ring. “It has given me great pleasure to meet you
young Americans. And you, also, Senor de Castro. Your father I
know well.”
“Of course, I’ve heard him speak of you, Don de Zimmon. We
certainly are obligated to you for helping us,” Carlos replied. “My
father will come and thank you just as soon as I tell him how greatly
we are indebted to you.”
“It will give me great pleasure to take you home in my car,” the
Don answered. “I am about to drive your way.”
“Thanks a lot,” Jim accepted.
 “We do not wish to inconvenience you, sir,” Carlos said quickly.
“Not at all,” answered the Don, then added, “Unless you desire to
remain longer at the festival.”
“Reckon we’re willing to call it a day,” said Bob ruefully looking at
their clothes, which were rumpled and dusty.
“Even so, you are not so disheveled and unpresentable as your
late opponents,” the Don smiled.
 CHAPTER II

DELAYED RETURN

When Don de Zimmon’s limousine drew up before the palatial

home of the de Castros, there was real concern on the face of Pedro
de Castro as he came to greet them.
“My old friend, Alonzo, it is indeed a great pleasure to see you but
your looks are all so grave that I am anxious to know if trouble has
befallen any of you.”
“A little scrap, Padre, that’s all. We were so mussed, that is, our
clothes, that Senor de Zimmon generously gave us a lift, which we
accepted instead of waiting for the car.” Carlos spoke lightly.
“Your son, my friend, is not unlike we were, you and I, in long
past days when adventure made our blood hot, but although we
thought nothing of facing danger, we carefully concealed details
from families if we were able. He is only partly correct in his
statement. It was because I felt that something more serious might
occur that I urged an immediate return home. I should have been
most distressed had I permitted them to come unattended,” the Don
replied.
“Many exploits we shared, my old friend, but it was always you
who faced the greatest danger and whose deeds were most daring.
On your heels I was a courageous fellow—ready to attack a lion—but
alone—” he shrugged his shoulders, “alone I was given to going the
long way around.”
 “You do not do yourself justice. Once I recall that your sword
saved me when my own had been broken; and another time you
fought off a hungry shark—”
“It was nothing—” old Pedro said quickly.
“Nothing, Padre? You never told me anything about those times!”
“Perhaps some day we will talk of them. Tell me this moment,
what danger threatened these sons of my friends in the United
States, and my own boy?”
“They were attacked at the fiesta by a lot of ruffians and came
rolling into the kitchen of the Santa Maria just as I entered to speak
to my manager. My first impulse was to have them kicked out.” As he
spoke his eyes rested a moment on Jim, then he proceeded, “but I
saw that they were not all of the same breed, so I had the scum
booted and brought these boys home to you because I feel sure that
the men who assaulted them would not be satisfied with the
outcome of the combat.”
“That is indeed serious. Let us go to the portico where it is cool,
and let me hear at once the facts. I beg of you, my dear Don, come
with us, then I shall surely get the full particulars from these young
people.” The three boys glanced at each other ruefully, but they
followed the old gentlemen and were soon seated about a small
table in the shade of great palm trees close by the pool with its tall
fountain from which the water shot high, then dropped back on the
glistening foliage. A servant brought iced drinks, and when they
were comfortably settled, the host’s eyes sought his son’s with a
question.
“I don’t understand it, Padre, I’d promised the Buddies that I
would join them at the fiesta the minute I could get there, and I was
much later than I expected to be. To save time, I hired a cab and
had the man drive me around the further side because I thought I
could reach the boys more directly. I paid the man and he went off,
then I noticed another car coming along the road. There wasn’t
anything special about that, only it seemed strange anyone should
come to the festival by that route, but I dismissed the matter
because I’d come by that route myself.”
“Yes?”
“The car was being driven very slowly as if the chauffeur expected
to pick up someone he had not located. Then, as I hurried along, I
saw two men coming rather quickly, supporting a third man between
them. His feet rather dragged but not as if he was drunk and his
hands, or one of them, was fumbling in the front of his coat. His hat
was on the back of his head, which was moving from side to side,
and just as they drew close, it was knocked off. One of the men bent
and picked it up and then I caught a glance of the sick man’s face. It
was very flushed, but his eyes looked as if he was perfectly aware of
what was taking place. They put his hat on, the chauffeur blew his
horn softly, and in a moment the three got into the car and it was
driven away quickly.”
“Extraordinary!”
“I didn’t think much about that at the moment, then it dawned
upon me that the man’s eyes were more fearful than ill. I paused at
the spot where his hat dropped wondering if I should report the
matter, then, right at my feet I saw a wallet. I supposed it belonged
to the third man, so I picked it up, determined to hand it over to the
police as soon as possible. Then I hurried to join our friends, and
had just succeeded in finding their table and calling a greeting when
a stranger touched my arm from behind and begged that I return
the wallet which he was going to take to his sick friend.”
“That’s when we saw him,” Jim put in.
“Ordinarily I should have done so without a question, for the chap
was gentlemanly enough, but the look in that man’s eyes sort of got
me, so I told him I was not sure that I should. Immediately his face
got ugly and he poked his fingers into my ribs and demanded that I
hand it over at once and from right behind him jumped two huge
fellows. One of them landed his fist on my jaw, then I believe the
Flying Buddies came on with their engines wide open. I felt one of
the men make a dive to my pocket, so I managed to roll over and
keep my coat closed tightly. After that I felt as if I’d landed in a hive
of mad bees and I couldn’t get up until the chief dragged me to my
feet. One of the men accused me of stealing the wallet and
demanded that I be searched, but the Don stepped in and took
command. That’s all I know.”
“What sort of looking men were they, my son?”
“The two who supported him were tall, well-built fellows. The sick
man was quite stout and wore a dark suit. I should say that he was
an American; he was quite fair.” Although this description was not
very complete, the Flying Buddies exchanged glances.
“Wonder if it was Ollie?” Bob ventured.
“And who is this Ollie?” the Don asked with interest.
“He’s—I don’t know much about what he is, really, but we saw
him the first time in Don Haurea’s home a year ago, and today he
was at the table nearest to ours on the other side of the hedge,” Bob
replied, then proceeded with an account of the affair to which the
gentlemen listened attentively.
“And you are guessing that this so-called sick man may be this
one to whom you listened?”
“It popped into my head, sir. I just thought that if his companion
at the table wanted to get information from him, he might have
arranged to take him off the grounds in some way,” Bob answered.
“They must have worked fast,” Jim added.
“Those fellows aren’t exactly slow motion movers,” said Bob.
“No, they are not.”
“Have you heard anything of recent platinum discoveries?” the
Don inquired.
“No, I have not, but according to this ‘Ollie’s’ statement, he had
kept the secret to himself,” Pedro de Castro reminded them.
“We all know that the Andes are rich with treasure of one sort or
another and many expeditions have been financed to search for the
precious metal, but I understand that our geologists agree that while
there may be small quantities of it in different sections it is of a poor
quality and in places where getting it out would cost more than it is
worth,” the Don told them.
“That is quite true. I have seen the report. When the Spaniards
came to this land there was a good deal, or rather the Indians had
quantities of it; they called it ‘frog gold’ but at that time the white
men knew nothing of its value and would not have it. Later a great
deal was accumulated and shipped to Spain, then the supply
diminished until now it is almost gone. Now it is Russia that is rich
with the mineral,” Senor de Castro explained.
“Well, I say, Carlos, we can soon settle if the chap was Ollie.
Perhaps the name is on his wallet,” Jim suggested.
“I never thought of that.” Carlos grinned and produced it from his
inside pocket. He handed it to his father and the older man turned it
over carefully. It was as long as a legal-sized envelope, made of very
soft thin Russian leather, with three long folds. When it was opened
wide they saw two small flaps in the middle to be brought down
over the ends of bills or papers, while the outside edges were
stitched to form a pocket. Senor de Castro examined it carefully but
there wasn’t a scrap of paper of any description in it.
“Empty as a last year’s bird’s nest,” Jim remarked.
“Quite empty,” their host replied.
“It’s a nice looking wallet, but shivering sharks, what is there
about that to fight over?” Bob exploded.
“It is very mysterious,” Senor de Castro responded soberly. He
handed it to his friend, who also scrutinized it thoroughly.
“Not so much as an initial scratched on it,” he declared.
“Some mystery,” Jim put in. “Perhaps Carlos was seen picking the
wallet up and they were not taking any chances on losing the
secret.”
“Yes,” Bob added. “We don’t know that it is Ollie’s.”
“That is true. We do not. In fact, we know little more than we did
before we examined it. I should suggest that you retain possession
of it for the present and I can make judicious inquiries as to the
identity of the owner. If he were really ill, it is more than likely that
he is now in the hospital, and he could not be admitted without a
name. It was strange indeed that a gang of ruffians should make
such an effort to secure it, unless they did not know how barren it
was. Now, my good friend, I think it would be well for our young
people to—as it is so aptly put in America, scrutinize their step.”
“We’ll watch our step, and our hop too,” Jim laughed.
“Yes. We are off for home in the morning so I guess there are no
more Peruvian adventures for us,” Bob grinned cheerfully.
“Then, I shall tell you it is with regret that I bid you good evening,
and I trust that I shall have the pleasure of meeting you again.” The
Don extended his hand cordially, and both boys rather wished that
they had had a chance to know him better.
“If you ever get to the bottom of this puzzle I hope you will let us
know, sir.”
“I shall be delighted.” The Don took his departure, and when
Senor de Castro returned to the portico the boys were still puzzling
over the empty wallet.
“You will be careful,” he urged.
“Of course. Don de Zimmon seems like a mighty fine man. You
must have had some wonderful times when you were growing up,”
Bob remarked.
“We had some wonderful times, but we did not grow up together.
The Don is Peruvian, although he speaks little of his forefathers. He
came here with his family when he was a lad in his teens and we
attended the same school; also we went off to college and after that
we drifted apart. The Don traveled extensively in the Orient, and a
few years ago he returned to Cuzco with his wife and children. They
are a fine family, splendid citizens,” Senor de Castro explained.
“Tell us about that shark business, Padre,” Carlos insisted.
“You have forgotten that your suits need to be changed,” his
father reminded him.
 “That’s so,” they had to admit, so they could not press the man for
the story, although it sounded mighty thrilling. When they returned,
ready for dinner, a cable was handed to Jim, who opened and
decoded it quickly.

“We miss you much, but I wish that you would stay until the
analysis is made and bring the report with you. I shall feel
safer than trusting it to the regular carriers. All well here.
Dad.”

“It will give us pleasure to have you remain,” Carlos chuckled

when the message was read to him and his father.
“It will take perhaps two days to get the report and I believe that
Senor Austin’s caution is very wise,” the older man declared.
Although the Flying Buddies were anxious to get home and the
message gave them a deep feeling of disappointment, they kept it to
themselves, and grinned as if delighted at the postponement.
“Doubtless you will learn more of the mystery of my sick friend, or
your Ollie,” Carlos suggested.
“It’ll be great to know what the answer is,” Jim responded
cheerfully.
Later that evening when they were in Jim’s room, Caldwell
lingered at the door. “I say, we were lucky that Don de Zimmon
could tell us from the roughnecks.” Austin looked at him a moment.
“It was lucky that we were wearing the green emerald rings that
Yncicea Haurea gave us that day we rescued him off the Island in
Lake Champlain,” he replied softly.
“The rings?” Bob glanced at his.
“Sure. The Don saw mine first then had a look at yours when he
shook hands with you. Guess he’s one of the Ynca descendants.”
“I might have known he couldn’t pick us out of that mess. Gee,
Buddy, what a lot of things we have nose-dived into since the boy
gave us those rings. I am rather glad we are staying over, perhaps
we’ll see the Don again and I’d like to know if that sick lad was
Ollie.”
“Me too. Suppose we better get to bed now, I’m tired as the very
dickens,” Jim remarked.
“So am I, in a way, but I’m kind of hankerin’ to have a look at the
‘Lark’—”
“You mean that you want to go joy riding along the milky way,”
Jim grinned. “Well, reckon I’m not too tired for that, but we don’t
want to overdo it—just a little hop or the De Castros will be worried
stiff.”
“Just a little one,” Bob nodded eagerly. They did not wait to do
more than slip into light jackets, then they went quietly out of the
house and made their way unnoticed to the new hangar where they
found the “Lark” resting as if poised for immediate flight into the
starry heavens. She was a beautifully built plane with all known, and
several as-yet-unknown, modern improvements, for it was a gift
from Don Haurea in grateful acknowledgement of services rendered
him and his immediate family by the Flying Buddies. Their first plane
had proudly borne the name of Her Highness, but some enemy bent
on revenge had ruined her, and had almost killed Bob too.
“She does look good. Let’s not light up this place; it may attract
attention from the house and Senor de Castro will think something is
wrong,” Jim proposed, as he opened the door to the cock-pit.
“Suits me.” Bob climbed into the pilot seat and while he adjusted
the parachute, Austin glanced at the radio instrument then suddenly
switched off the light on the control board.
“What’s up—”
“I don’t know. Look at the dials,” Jim whispered, and then Bob
noticed an odd green light playing about the rims of the instrument.
“It’s the signal from the Laboratory,” Bob said softly.
“Green means anger. Someone who is hopping mad is around
here, Buddy. Scrutinize your process, old timer.”
 “Perhaps you’d better see how things are in the back,” Caldwell
said aloud, quite as if they had no warning of danger.
“All right, but why the heck didn’t you look before you climbed in?”
Jim grumbled. Instead of jumping out of the cock-pit in the normal
fashion, he leaped over the back, stepped onto the fuselage, then
swung onto the wing. In a moment he had pushed a button and
immediately the place was a blaze of light.
“Well, look who’s here,” Bob exclaimed in astonishment, and Jim
dropped on his stomach to look over the side.
“If it ain’t the Dolly Sisters,” he grinned.
“Blast you—” The explosion came from the contorted lips of the
huge man, one who had tried to get the wallet from Carlos’ pocket
earlier that day. Beside him, crouched to spring, and with a heavy
monkey wrench ready to bring down on some defenseless head, was
the other big fellow.
“We nearly had a couple of stowaways,” Bob said cheerfully.
“Wonder if their little playmate is hanging around. Guess I’ll ring
the alarm bell at the house.” Jim proceeded to carry out the plan and
in a moment they heard a bell ringing in the distance and
immediately the windows of the great house leaped to life as lights
flooded through the darkness. They heard a sound as of a heavy
body jumping off of one of the upper verandas, then the swift
scramble of racing feet. Shouts came from every direction, and the
two men in the garage seemed to be making a terrific effort to get
away, but they could barely move.
“Bet it’s the first time they touched a live wire,” Bob remarked, but
just then the power was turned off, and with a series of furious
curses, the two ruffians dashed out of the place as fast as their legs
could carry them.
“The Lab. men caught them good and proper,” Jim remarked with
satisfaction. “Reckon they were released to avoid explanations. We
can fix that up, all right.”
“Boy, Jim—Bob—”
 “O.K., sir, here,” Jim shouted.
“Are you safe, are you injured—oh—”
“We’re great,” Jim answered quickly. “We thought we’d like a little
ride before we turned in, but we found two fellows out here, so we
rang the house bell to scare them off—”
“Oh, it is fortunate you did,” Carlos said quickly as he came puffing
up in his pajamas. “The bell rang, woke me up, and there was a
man in my room, just going through my pockets. He jumped so fast
I could not be positive, but I believe it was the man who asked me
for the wallet this afternoon.” Just then they heard a series of loud
shots, and running out, were in time to see a manservant, gun
smoking in his hand, bring down a chap as he leaped a high fence.
The man fell and they ran to the spot. The fellow was dead. There
was no mistaking that face, and the boys turned away a bit sick at
the sight of the bleeding body.
“I got one, sir—” Another servant dragged the man who had
jumped from the veranda.
“Lock him securely until morning,” Senor de Castro ordered.
“All for an empty purse,” Carlos remarked.
“Hey—” There came another shout and a moment later two more
men were captured. One had fallen and injured his leg, but the other
was unhurt.
“Look after them. Why are you men turning into such devils?”
“To get something you don’t know anything about. That wallet
you’ve been trying to kill me for is empty—there isn’t a scrap in it,”
Carlos told them. Those who could, looked at him sullenly, but the
one who was hurt snarled furiously,
“Maybe it is empty,” he rasped, “and then again, maybe it ain’t,
see!”
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