There was a rush for the spot in which the precious stuff had been
cached.
A few broken tusks lay there.
But of the great hoard that the Boy Aviators had worked so
faithfully to salvage not a vestige remained.
"Bilked, by the great hornspoon!" yelled Ben.
"But not beaten yet," was Frank's calm rejoinder. "Come on, boys,
we've got to be stirring. Barr's got a long start of us, but we'll
get him yet. Ben, you and Sikaso will take one of the Arabs'
canoes--the ones they left at the river bank when they started after
us--Harry, Billy, Lathrop and I will fly to the coast in the Golden
Eagle II. We've just enough gasoline."
"All right, sir," said Ben, touching his forelock with an old sailor
trick--a token of respect involuntarily forced from him by Frank's
manly promptitude in taking the bull by the horns, "We're with you
to the last ditch, the top of the main-top gallant, the bottom of
the deep-blue sea, or the ends of the earth."
"That goes for us too, Frank," supplemented Billy.
"And count me in on that," cried Lathrop.
As for Harry, he gripped his brother's hand and the boys at once set
about their preparations to outwit their treacherous enemy. In the
midst of their bustle an interruption as utterly unexpected as it
was for a moment alarming occurred.
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