“What happened after the Portuguese reached the hidden city?” inquired War, eager to hear more of the story.
“Here’s a hint,” declared Jack, reading at random from the manuscript.
“‘The grandeur of these mighty remains awed every man’s tongue into silence. We tiptoed in the shadow of the ruins. The stones were black with age. No one spoke above a whisper and orders were given in a low voice. High above the crown of the middle arch, strange and unknown characters were engraved.’”
The reading at this point was interrupted by loud shouting and pounding on the outer mission door.
“They’re going to break in here!” Willie asserted, getting to his feet.
“Do not be disturbed,” said Father Francisco. “There is a secret way out. I will show you.”
He beckoned for the Scouts to follow him. Crossing the library, he pressed a hidden spring. To the amazement of the Scouts, one of the wide bookshelves swung inward.
Behind it was revealed a low, arched-over tunnel.
“This escape was very useful in the early days of the mission,” Father Francisco observed cheerfully. “Today it has little practical value, save on a rare occasion such as this.”
“Where does it lead?” War asked, peering into the tunnel’s dark interior. He could not see its end.
“It twists through the hillside to emerge in a small cave overlooking the sea. Once there, you will be near your hotel. I suggest that you go directly there and remain until your departure from Cuertos.”
“Wait,” Father Francisco bade the Scouts as they would have started into the tunnel. “You will need a light to guide you. A candle—”
“No need,” Jack said. “I have my pocket flashlight. Thanks for everything.”
Switching on the light, he started ahead of the others into the low, narrow passageway. A half dozen wide, well-worn stone steps led downward to a lower level.
Moving fast, the Scouts followed an uneven dirt floor in a crazy pattern of turns and zigzags. Soon they had lost all sense of direction.
“Shouldn’t this thing be coming to an end?” Willie presently demanded. “We’ve gone a mile.”
“Not even half that far,” Jack corrected, pausing to look back.
“Nope. Father Francisco will look after that detail for us. You know, he’s a mighty good egg!”
“He pulled us out of a tight spot,” Ken agreed. “When we find the hidden city, we can send him some Inca gold as a token of our gratitude!”