"I know what you seek in the buried city,"
remarked Tal.
"Do you?" cried Tom, wondering if some one
had indiscreetly spoken of the idol of gold.
"Yes you want pieces of rock, with strange
writings on them, old weapons, broken pots.
I know. I have helped white men before."
"Yes, those are the things we want," agreed
Tom, with a glance at his chum. "That is--some
of them. But does your wife's grandfather talk
our language?"
"No, but I can tell you what he says."
By this time the old man, led by "Mrs. Tal"--
as the young men called the wife of the Indian
they had helped--entered the hut. He seemed
nervous and shy, and glanced from Tom and Ned
to his grandson-in-law, as the latter talked rapidly
in the Indian dialect. Then Goosal made answer,
but what it was all about the boys could
not tell.
"Goosal say," translated Tal, "that he know a
story of a very old city away down under ground."
"Tell us about it!" urged Tom eagerly.
But a difficulty very soon developed. Tal's
intentions were good, but he was not equal to
the task of translating. Nor was the understanding
of Tom and Ned of Spanish quite up to the mark.
"Say, this is too much for me!" exclaimed Tom.
"We are losing the most valuable part of this by
not understanding what Goosal says, and what
Tal translates."
"What can we do?" asked Ned.
"Get the professor here as soon as possible.
He can manage this dialect, and he'll get the
information at first hand.
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