THE LOST CITY BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. AUTHOR OF "SPUR AND SADDLE," "AROUND THE CAMPFIRE," ETC. Illustrated by L. J. BRIDGMAN BOSTON DANA ESTES & COMPANY PUBLISHERS 1898 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Copyright, 1898 BY DANA ESTES & COMPANY Colonial Press: Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. Boston, U. S. A. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -vii- CONTENTS. I. NATURE IN TRAVAIL. . . . . . . . . . . . 11 II. PROFESSOR FEATHERWIT TAKING NOTES . . . 23 III. RIDING THE TORNADO . . . . . . . . . . 35 IV. THE PROFESSOR'S LITTLE EXPERIMENT . . . 47 V. THE PROFESSOR'S UNKNOWN LAND . . . . . . 58 VI. A BRACE OF UNWELCOME VISITORS . . . . . 68 VII. THE PROFESSOR'S GREAT ANTICIPATIONS. . 79 VIII. A DUEL TO THE DEATH . . . . . . . . . 91 IX. GRAPPLING A QUEER FISH. . . . . . . . 104 X. RESCUED AND RESCUERS. . . . . . . . . . 114 XI. ANOTHER SURPRISE FOR THE PROFESSOR . . 125 XII. THE STORY OF A BROKEN LIFE. . . . . . 136 XIII. THE LOST CITY OF THE AZTECS. . . . . 145 XIV. A MARVELLOUS VISION . . . . . . . . . 154 XV. ASTOUNDING, YET TRUE . . . . . . . . . 165 XVI. CAN IT BE TRUE? . . . . . . . . . . . 174 XVII. AN ENIGMA FOR THE BROTHERS . . . . . 183 XVIII. SOMETHING LIKE A WHITE ELEPHANT . . 192 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -viii- XIX. THE CHILDREN OF THE SUN GOD . . . . . 203 XX. THE PROFESSOR AND THE AZTEC. . . . . . 212 XXI. DISCUSSING WAYS AND MEANS . . . . . . 221 XXII. A DARING UNDERTAKING . . . . . . . . 230 XXIII. A FLIGHT UNDERGROUND. . . . . . . . 241 XXIV. THE SUN CHILDREN'S PERIL . . . . . . 250 XXV. WALDO GOES FISHING. . . . . . . . . . 259 XXVI. DOWN AMONG THE DEAD . . . . . . . . 268 XXVII. PENETRATING GRIM SECRETS. . . . . . 277 XXVIII. BROUGHT BEFORE THE GODS. . . . . . 286 XXIX. BENEATH THE SACRIFICIAL STONE. . . . 294 XXX. AGAINST OVERWHELMING ODDS . . . . . . 304 XXXI. DEFENDING THE SUN CHILDREN . . . . . 312 XXXII. ADIEU TO THE LOST CITY. . . . . . . 320 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ILLUSTRATIONS. THE RESCUE . . . . . . . . . . . . Frontispiece IN THE HEART OF THE TORNADO . . . . . . . . . . 43 THE DUKE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97 "`I TOOK THESE ALL FROM AN INDIAN'". . . . . . .133 FINDING THE LOST CITY. . . . . . . . . . . . . .161 "`MUCH OBLIGED -- ME, YOU, BROTHER'" . . . . . . .197 PRINCE HUA AND THE SUN CHILDREN. . . . . . . . .237 "TLACOPA SHRANK AWAY FROM THE SPEAKING STATUE" .301 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -11- Chapter 1 THE LOST CITY. CHAPTER I. NATURE IN TRAVAIL. "I SAY, professor?" "Very well, Waldo; proceed." "Wonder if this isn't a portion of the glorious climate, broken loose from its native California, and drifting up this way on a lark?" "If so, said lark must be roasted to a turn," declared the third (and last) member of that little party, drawing a curved forefinger across his forehead, then flirting aside sundry drops of moisture. "I can't recall such another muggy afternoon, and if we were only back in what the scientists term the cyclone belt -- " "We would be all at sea," quickly interposed the professor, the fingers of one hand vigorously stirring his gray pompadour, while the other was lifted in a -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -12- deprecatory manner. "At sea, literally as well as metaphorically, my dear Bruno; for, correctly speaking, the ocean alone can give birth to the cyclone." "Why can't you remember anything, boy?" sternly cut in the roguish-eyed youngster, with admonitory forefinger, coming to the front. "How many times have I told you never to say blue when you mean green? Why don't you say Kansas zephyr? Or windy-auger? Or twister? Or whirly-gust on a corkscrew wiggle-waggle? Or -- well, almost any other old thing that you can't think of at the right time? W-h-e-w! Who mentioned sitting on a snowdrift, and sucking at an icicle? Hot? Well, now, if this isn't a genuine old cyclone breeder, then I wouldn't ask a cent!" Waldo Gillespie let his feet slip from beneath him, sitting down with greater force than grace, back supported against a gnarled juniper, loosening the clothes at his neck while using his other hand to ply his crumpled hat as a fan. Bruno laughed outright at this characteristic anticlimax, while Professor Featherwit was obliged to smile, even while compelled to correct. "Tornado, please, nephew; not cyclone." "Well, uncle Phaeton, have it your own way. Under either name, I fancy the thing-a-ma-jig would -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -13- kick up a high old bobbery with a man's political economy should it chance to go bu'st right there! And, besides, when I was a weenty little fellow I was taught never to call a man a fool or a liar -- " "Waldo!" sharply warned his brother, turning again. "So long as I knew myself to be in the wrong," coolly finished the youngster, face grave, but eyes twinkling, as they turned towards his mistaken mentor. "What is it, my dear Bruno?" "There is one thing neither cyclone nor tornado could ever deprive you of, Kid, and that is -- " "My beauty, wit, and good sense, -- thanks, awfully! Nor you, my dear Bruno, although my inbred politeness forbids my explaining just why." There was a queer-sounding chuckle as Professor Featherwit turned away, busying himself about that rude-built shed and shanty which sheltered the pride of his brain and the pet of his heart, while Bruno smiled indulgently as he took a few steps away from those stunted trees in order to gain a fairer view of the stormy heavens. Far away towards the northeast, rising above the distant hill, now showed an ugly-looking cloud-bank which almost certainly portended a storm of no ordinary dimensions. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -14- Had it first appeared in the opposite quarter of the horizon, Bruno would have felt a stronger interest in the clouds, knowing as he did that the miscalled "cyclone" almost invariably finds birth in the southwest. Then, too, nearly all the other symptoms were noticeable, -- the close, "muggy" atmosphere; the deathlike stillness; the lack of oxygen in the air, causing one to breathe more rapidly, yet with far less satisfying results than usual. Even as Bruno gazed, those heavy cloud-banks changed, both in shape and in colour, taking on a peculiar greenish lustre which only too accurately forebodes hail of no ordinary force. His cry to this effect brought the professor forth from the shed-like shanty, while Waldo roused up sufficiently to speak: "To say nothing of yonder formation way out over the salty drink, my worthy friends, who intimated that a cyclone was born at sea?" Professor Featherwit frowned a bit as his keen little rat-like eyes turned towards that quarter of the heavens; but the frown was not for Waldo, nor for his slightly irreverent speech. Where but a few minutes before there had been only a few light clouds in sight, was now a heavy bank of remarkable shape, its crest a straight line -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -15- as though marked by an enormous ruler, while the lower edge was broken into sharp points and irregular sections, the whole seeming to float upon a low sea of grayish copper. "Well, well, that looks ugly, decidedly ugly, I must confess," the wiry little professor spoke, after that keen scrutiny. "Really, now?" drawled Waldo, who was nothing if not contrary on the surface. "Barring a certain little topsy-turvyness which is something out of the ordinary, I'd call that a charming bit of -- Great guns and little cannon-balls!" For just then there came a shrieking blast of wind from out the northeast, bringing upon its wings a brief shower of hail, intermingled with great drops of rain which pelted all things with scarcely less force than did those frozen particles. "Hurrah!" shrilly screamed Waldo, as he dashed out into the storm, fairly revelling in the sudden change. "Who says this isn't `'way up in G?' Who says -- out of the way, Bruno! Shut that trap-door in your face, so another fellow may get at least a share of the good things coming straight down from -- ow -- wow!" Through the now driving rain came flashing larger particles, and one of more than ordinary size rebounded -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -16- from that curly pate, sending its owner hurriedly to shelter beneath the scrubby trees, one hand ruefully rubbing the injured part. Faster fell the drops, both of rain and of ice, clattering against the shanty and its adjoining shed with an uproar audible even above the sullenly rolling peals of heavy thunder. The rain descended in perfect sheets for a few minutes, while the hailstones fell thicker and faster, growing in size as the storm raged, already beginning to lend those red sands a pearly tinge with thei...
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