"We stay here for the night," said Jacinto.
"It is a good place."
"It looks picturesque enough," observed Mr.
Damon. "But it is rather wild."
"We are a good distance from a settlement,"
agreed the guide. "But one can not explore--
and find treasure in cities," and he shrugged
his shoulders again.
"Find treasure? What do you mean?" asked Tom quickly.
"Do you think that we----?"
"Pardon, Senor," replied Jacinto softly. "I meant
no offense. I think that all you scientific
parties will take treasure if you can find it."
"We are looking for traces of the old Honduras
civilization," put in Professor Bumper.
"And doubtless you will find it," was the
somewhat too courteous answer of the guide.
"Make camp quickly!" he called to the Indians
in their tongue. "You must soon get under the
nets or you will be eaten alive!" he told Tom.
"There are many mosquitoes here."
The tents were set up, smudge fires built and
supper quickly prepared. Dusk fell rapidly, and
as Tom and Ned walked a little way down
toward the river before turning in under the
mosquito canopies, the young financial man said:
"Sort of lonesome and gloomy, isn't it, Tom?"
"Yes. But you didn't expect to find a moving
picture show in the wilds of Honduras, did you?"
"No, and yet-- Look out! What's that?"
suddenly cried Ned, as a great soft, black shadow
seemed to sweep out of a clump of trees toward
him. Involuntarily he clutched Tom's arm and
pointed, his face showing fear in the fast-gathering
darkness.
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