The Jungle Pyramid (13 page)

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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

BOOK: The Jungle Pyramid
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Dark clouds floated past overhead. Moonlight gleamed on a gold mask molded into a ferocious scowl.
“Whoever he is,” Joe thought, “he's stealing the valuable gold mask!”
CHAPTER XV
Lethal Reptiles
 
 
 
 
For a moment Joe stared at the thief, who was slowly strolling along in the darkness. Then the young detective crept back to his tent and awakened Frank.
“Someone's taking off with the golden mask!” he whispered into his brother's ear. “We'd better stop him!”
Frank bolted out of his sleeping bag. “Go after him,” he said. “I'll wake the others and we'll be right there.”
Joe ran from the camp as quietly as he could in order not to alert the thief. The man might run into the jungle and disappear into the night! He saw the thief, still walking slowly in the moonlight, and caught up to him. “Stop!” Joe commanded. “Don't go any farther!”
He expected the thief to whirl around and attack him, and was ready to fight. Instead, the man turned slowly, holding the mask over his face, and said nothing!
By now Frank and the others ran up. “Joe, did you get him?” Frank called out.
“Right here,” Joe replied.
“Who is he?” Steve Weiss demanded.
Joe stared at the thief, who stood motionless, his face hidden behind the ancient image. “Come on,” Joe said, “take that thing away and stop playing games!”
The man did not move. Joe grabbed the mask and pulled it from the thief's face.
Carlos Calderón!
“Carlos, what are you doing with that mask?” Steve Weiss asked, incredulous. “You're not trying to steal it, are you?”
“Of course he is,” Armstrong declared. “He took it and then tried to make a getaway. I suspected him all along!”
Weiss took the mask from Joe. “I don't know the explanation,” he said, “but Carlos is not a thief. I'm sure of that.”
“Weiss, you're out of your mind,” Armstrong exploded. “We've caught him red-handed!”
Carlos stood perfectly still, saying nothing. He looked at the rest with a fixed stare.
“He's sleepwalking!” Tony exclaimed.
“No, that's not it,” Frank said. “A sleepwalker would have awakened after all this commotion.”
Rose walked up to Carlos. She peered deep into his eyes, made passes with her hand in front of his face, and spoke to him. He did not react.
“He's in a trance,” the biologist said. “I think Carlos has been hypnotized. I've studied the subject and I know all the signs. A hypnotized person looks just the way Carlos does.”
Frank became excited. “Somebody hypnotized Carlos and made him take the gold mask!”
Chet scratched his head. “But who?”
“Nobody in this camp,” Weiss said. “None of us is a hypnotist.”
“Could it be somebody hiding in the jungle?” Tony suggested. “The guy met Carlos, hypnotized him, and told him to get the mask. A confederate of Rumble Murphy's, perhaps.”
“You may be right,” Joe said. “It's one more mystery for us to solve.”
Weiss tapped a finger against his chin. “I've just thought of something. Aztec masks of the gods were supposed to have a hypnotic effect on worshippers in the temples. I wonder if the mask could have hypnotized Carlos.”
“Nonsense!” Armstrong objected. “He wasn't in a trance when I left him last night. He stole the mask deliberately!”
“Why not ask him?” Biff suggested. He shook the student. “Carlos! Wake up!” he commanded. “Wake up!”
Carlos did not respond.
“It's no use,” Rose said. “He can't hear you. Besides, it's dangerous to wake up a hypnotized person suddenly. It could affect his mind and impair his memory. Let him sleep it off.”
“Just like that?” Pendleton queried.
“Right. Most hypnotized people pass into ordinary sleep and wake up normally. In extreme cases, a doctor is needed. All we can do is see how Carlos comes out of this.”
Weiss led the way back to camp. Rose guided Carlos by the elbow. She deposited him in his tent while Steve replaced the gold mask with the rest of the artifacts from the dig.
“I'll stand guard outside Calderón's tent,” John Armstrong offered, “and make sure he doesn't escape.”
The others went back to sleep. In the morning, Carlos came out of his tent to join the group for breakfast. Armstrong, who was still on guard, grabbed him.
“Hey, let go of me!” the student objected. “What's the idea? I can walk on my own.”
“We saw that last night,” Armstrong replied sarcastically.
“What are you talking about?”
“About the way you tried to walk off with the gold mask!”
“John, you don't make any sense at all,” Carlos said, looking puzzled.
“You
took the mask back to the tent before we went to bed, not I!”
“Come on, the others will tell you,” Armstrong said, dragging the student to the breakfast area.
Everyone seemed to stare at him in a strange way. Carlos began to feel uncomfortable. “Is anything wrong?” he asked. “John said something about my walking off with the mask. What is this?”
“Carlos, what is the last thing you remember last night?” Frank Hardy asked.
“Well, Chet, John, Pendleton, and I talked about the mask and admired the beautiful craftsmanship. Then John took it back to the artifacts tent and we all went to bed.”
“And then?”
“Then? Nothing. I went to sleep! What in the world are you getting at?”
“You walked off into the jungle with the mask in the middle of the night,” Armstrong said. “Don't deny it because we all saw you!”
Carlos stared at the man in utter astonishment, then turned to Steve Weiss. “Steve,” he said, and his voice was shaking with fear and bewilderment, “what is this man trying to do to me? You know I'm not a thief. I didn't touch that mask after I went to my tent. You people all know me. Please, won't anyone stick up for me?”
Rose walked over to the student and put her arm around his shoulders. “Calm down, Carlos. Something happened last night, and we have a pretty good idea what. You were hypnotized and started to walk away from the camp with the mask. Moreover you didn't react to anything we said to you.”
“Hypnotized! But—but I don't remember anything of the sort.”
“You wouldn't, so don't worry about it.”
Carlos sat down and put his head into his hands. “I can't believe it. I just can't believe it.”
Armstrong did not speak out loud, but said to Frank in a low voice, “I don't either. I think he's putting on an excellent show. Let's ask the authorities to investigate his story.”
Frank was inclined to believe Carlos, but since he worked for Armstrong, he did not contradict him. “Sure, Mr. Armstrong, we'll check him out as soon as we get back to Mexico City.”
Carlos stood up again and looked at everyone at the table. “Who hypnotized me?”
“We don't know,” Steve said. “Must have been an outsider who stole in here.”
“I haven't talked to any outsiders since I arrived!” Carlos argued.
“Who knows?” Pendleton put in. “Someone could have come into your tent last night and commanded you under hypnosis not to remember ever meeting him.”
“But why would anyone want to do that?”
“Possibly so that you would take the mask and deposit it somewhere in the jungle.”
“What—what if it happens again?”
“It won't. We'll keep an eye on you. Relax,” Steve told him. “And now let's get to work. We're going to find the pyramid today. Remember?”
He organized a party, including Pendleton, the Hardys, and himself. Armstrong decided to watch Carlos; and Biff, Tony, and Chet would help Courtney to list artifacts from the dig.
“We don't have to hike as we did last time,” Frank said. “I have a pretty good idea of how to find Murphy's trail from here. Let's take the jeep.”
Frank found the way without difficulty, and even though it was a roundabout route from Palango, the searchers reached the pyramid within a few hours.
The archaeologist and the guide were ecstatic. “This is absolutely phenomenal!” Steve Weiss exclaimed. “We've finally found the lost pyramid! Frank, Joe, you can't imagine how grateful we are to you!”
The Hardys grinned. “Don't forget, we discovered it by accident!”
While Steve and Pendleton entered the structure, Frank and Joe reconnoitered the jungle around it and plunged into the underbrush.
“I believe Carlos was hypnotized,” Frank said. “What do you think, Joe?”
“I'm with you. I hope whoever did it won't come back and put all of us in a trance!” He took out his machete and began to hack through the jungle growth. Frank did the same. The keen blades of the long knives easily sliced through the vegetation, lopping off vines, creepers, and tree branches.
The boys reached a clearing, where they paused for a conference on what to do next. “If we go any farther,” Frank said, “we might lose our way. The undergrowth is dense around here. How about going back?”
Joe nodded. “Look! There's a path. Want to try it?”
“Sure. Why not?”
The new route took them downhill into a swampy region of the jungle. They found a sluggish creek and tramped along its banks until it widened into a fast-moving stream.
A steamy haze rose from the ground. Black mud clung to their shoes. Grassy hillocks were slick with wet grass, and tree boles slanted crazily from the bank out over the water. Moss hung from the branches like long, heavy ropes.
“Let's pretend we're monkeys,” Joe proposed. “We'll swing from one tree to another on the moss and avoid getting our feet wet.”
Frank chuckled. “Okay, Tarzan, you lead the way. I'll follow when I see how you make out.”
Frank tripped over a root, and fell headlong into the ooze, breaking his fall with his hands. He pushed himself up into a squatting position and washed himself in the stream before proceeding.
The boys hiked along the stream, which flowed roughly in the direction of the pyramid. Massive tree roots compelled them to make a detour inland. They came to a rocky ledge, where ferns covered the mouth of a small cave.
Joe poked a branch into the darkness of the cave.
Whoosh!
A black snarling form flashed out at him! He ducked by reflex action. The creature just missed his head and zoomed up onto a branch overhead. Savage eyes glared down at him. Sharp fangs snapped.
“It's a bat!” Frank exclaimed.
Joe shuddered. “A vampire bat. Let's get out of here before his buddies in the cave come out!”
They hurried around to the bank and continued tramping downstream. The river gradually broadened until it extended a hundred yards across. The Hardys stopped to survey it.
A snout broke the surface and rose into the air, revealing a long head with tiny reptilian eyes. The body floated like a log. A pair of jaws opened, revealing a row of wicked fangs. A heavy tail whip-lashed the water. A similar reptile rose beside it. Then another, and another.
“Alligators!” Joe exclaimed.
“There must be a school of them!” Frank cried. “Come on, let's get out of here!”
He turned and climbed up the embankment. Joe started to follow him, but slipped in the mud. Wildly he flung his arms out in a desperate effort to maintain his balance. A hillock broke lose under his foot.
With a scream, Joe toppled into the river and was swept by the current toward the lethal reptiles!
CHAPTER XVI
Unexpected Revelation
 
 
 
 
ONE alligator spotted Joe in the water and eagerly moved toward him. Three others followed with open jaws!
Frantically Joe swam against the current. He was a strong athlete, but the swift-moving waves carried him downstream away from the bank. The alligators gained on him, slithering through the water like torpedoes!
Frank ran to a bend in the stream. He tore a long creeper from a tree and tossed one end far out into the water in his brother's path. Joe grabbed the creeper as he went past.
“Help—me!” he yelled.
Frank braced himself on the bank and tugged on the creeper. As he drew it in, Joe kicked his feet and began to move faster through the waves. But the alligators were still gaining on him!
As Joe reached the shallow water, Frank dropped the creeper, held on to the tree branch with one hand, and extended the other out over the stream. Joe grabbed it and Frank pulled his brother up the bank.
A rasping crunch sounded just behind Joe. One of the alligators hurled itself out of the water in an effort to close its jaws on its prey. Missing by a hair's breath, the giant reptile splashed back into the waves.
Joe lay high on the bank, gasping for breath. “Frank,” he panted, “you were better than the U.S. Cavalry galloping up to save the old homestead in the movies!”
“Well,” Frank replied, “I figured that if you insisted on playing tag with a bunch of alligators, you might need help in a hurry.”
When Joe recovered, the Hardys found that the bend in the stream carried it away from their starting point. Frank got a fix with his compass on a direct march through the jungle, and half an hour later the boys arrived at the pyramid.
Steve Weiss and Frank Pendleton had made sketches and layouts and were about ready to leave. “What happened to you?” Steve asked Joe, who was still wet from his swim.

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