The Mexican hesitated a moment, called a command to some one in the next room, and, a moment later the old woman shuffled in, bearing the wonderful golden image. Tom could not repress a little gasp of delight as he saw it at close range, for it was beautifully carved out of solid, yellow gold.

The woman set it on a rude table, and the young inventor, Ned and Mr. Damon drew near to look at the image more closely. It was the work of a master artist. The statue was about eight inches high, and showed a man, dressed in flowing robes, seated crosslegged on a sort of raised pedestal. On the head was a crown, many pointed and the face beneath it showed calm dignity like that of a superior being.

In one extended hand was a round ball, with lines on it to show the shape of the earth, though only the two American continents appeared. In the other hand was what might be tables of stone, a book, or something to represent law-giving authority.

"How much?" asked Tom.

"No sell," was the monotonous answer.

"Five hundred dollars," offered our hero.

"No sell."

"One thousand dollars."

"No sell."

"Why is it so valuable to you?" Tom wanted to know.

"We have him for many years. Bad luck come if he go." Then the Mexican went on to explain that the image had been in his family for many generations, and that once, when it had been taken by an enemy, death and poverty followed until the statue was recovered. He said he would never part with it.

"Where did it come from?" asked Tom, and he cared more about this than he did about buying the image.

"Far, far off," said the Mexican. "No man know. I no know--my father he no know--his father's father no know. Too many years back--many years."

He motioned to the woman to take the statue away, and Tom and his friend realized that little more could be learned. The young inventor stretched out his hand with an involuntary motion, and the Mexican understood. He spoke to the woman and she handed the image to Tom. The Mexican had recognized his desire for a moment's closer inspection and had granted it.

"Jove! It's as heavy as lead!" exclaimed Tom. "And solid gold."

"Isn't it hollow up the middle?" asked Ned. "Look on the underside, Tom."

His chum did so. As he turned the image over to look at the base he had all he could do not to utter a cry of surprise. For there, rudely scratched on the plain surface of the gold, was what was unmistakably a map. And it was a map showing the location of the ruined temple--the temple and the country surrounding it--the ancient city of Poltec, and the map was plain enough so that Tom could recognize part of the route over which they had traveled.

But, better than all, was a tiny arrow, something like the compa.s.s mark on modern maps. And this arrow pointed straight at the ruins of the temple, and the direction indicated was due west from the village where our travelers now were. Tom Swift had found out what he wanted to know.

Without a word he handed back the image and then, trying not to let his elation show in his face, he motioned to Ned and Mr. Damon to follow him from the house.

"Bless my necktie!" exclaimed the odd man, when they were out of hearing distance. "What's up, Tom."

"I know the way to the ruined temple. We'll start at once," and he told them of the map on the image.

"Who do you suppose could have made it?" asked Ned.

"Probably whoever took the image from the city of gold. He wanted to find his way back again, or show some one, but evidently none of the recent owners of the image understand about the map, if they know it's there. The lines are quite faint, but it is perfectly plain."

"It's lucky I saw it. I don't have to try to buy the image now, nor seek to learn where it came from. Anyhow, if they told me they'd tell Delazes, and he'd be hot after us. As it is I doubt if he can learn now. Come, we'll get ready to hit the trail again."

And they did, to the no small wonder of the contractor and his men, who could not understand why Tom should start out without the image, or without having learned where it came from, for Delazes had questioned the old Mexican, and learned all that took place. But he did not look on the base of the statue.

Due west went the cavalcade, and then a new complication arose. Tom did not want to take the Mexicans any nearer to the plain of the temple than possible, and he did not know how many miles it was away. So he decided on taking a longer balloon voyage than at first contemplated.

"We'll camp to-night at the best place we can find," he said to Delazes, "and then I'm going on in the balloon. You and your men will stay in camp until we come back."

"Ha! And suppose the senors do not come back with the balloon?"

"Wait a reasonable time for us, and then you can do as you wish.

I'll pay you to the end of the month and if you wait for us any longer I have given instructions for the bank in Tampico to pay you and your men what is right."

"Good! And the senors are going into the unknown?"

"Yes, we don't know where we'll wind up. This hunting for relics is uncertain business. Make yourselves comfortable in camp, and wait."

"Waiting is weary business, Senor Swift. If we could come with you--"

began Delazes, with an eager look in his eyes.

"Out of the question," spoke Tom shortly. "There isn't room in the balloon."

"Very well, senor," and with a snapping glance from his black eyes the contractor walked away.

CHAPTER XVII

THE RUINED TEMPLE

Though Tom had his portable balloon in shape for comparatively quick a.s.sembling it was several days, after they went into permanent camp, before it was in condition for use.

The Mexicans were not of much help for several reasons. Some of them were ignorant men, and were very superst.i.tious, and would have nothing to do with the "Air Fiend" as they called it. In consequence Tom, Ned, Mr. Damon and Eradicate had to do most of the work. But Tom and Ned were a host in themselves, and Mr. Damon was a great help, though he often stopped to bless something, to the no small astonishment of the Mexicans, one of whom innocently asked Tom if this eccentric man was not "a sort of priest in his own country, for he called down so many blessings?"

"Bless my pen wiper!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, when Tom had told him. "I must break myself of that habit. Bless my--" and then he stopped and laughed, and went on with the work of helping to install the motor.

Another reason why some of the Mexicans were of little service was because they were so lazy. They preferred to sit in the shade and smoke innumerable cigarettes, or sleep. Then, too, some of them had to go out after some small game with which that part of the country abounded, for though there was plenty of tinned food, fresh meat was much more appreciated.

But Tom and Ned labored long and hard, and in about a week after making camp they had a.s.sembled the dirigible balloon in which they hoped to set out to locate the plain of the ruined temple, and also the entrance to the underground city of gold.

"Well, I'll start making the gas to-morrow," decided Tom, in their tent one night, after a hard day's work. "Then we'll give the balloon a tryout and see how she behaves in this part of the world.

The motor is all right, we're sure of that much," for they had given the engine a test several days before.

"Which way are we going to head?" asked Ned.

"North, I think," answered Tom.

"But I thought you said that the temple was west--"

"Don't you see my game?" went on the young inventor quickly, and in a low voice, for several times of late he had surprised some of the Mexicans sneaking about the tent. "As soon as we start off Delazes is going to follow us."

"Follow us?" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless my shoe horn, what do you mean?"