The Lost City, Jr. Joseph E. Badger [spicy books to read txt] 📗

where there could be no possible danger in making a

temporary landing. And then Bruno stole away in hot haste, both

to wash his person and to reclothe it in garments not quite so

ridiculous as he now felt that savage rig must appear.

 

“Just as though the little woman wasn’t used to see fit-outs like

that, old man,” mocked Waldo, the irrepressible. “She’ll go

scare at you in this rig; see if she doesn’t, now!”

 

Whether or no Gladys was actually frightened as Bruno made his

appearance, need not be decided here; but one fact remains: she

acted a vast deal shyer than when she saw her gallant defender

lying as if dead, with the red blood flowing over his face.

 

Naturally enough, Cooper Edgecombe seemed fairly crazed by his

joy. After so many long years of hopeless grief and wistful

longing, to find his loved ones, safe and sound, far more

beautiful than of yore! Surely enough to turn the gravest of men

into a laughing, jesting, voluble lad!

 

But throughout it all ran a vein of sadness and of mourning.

Neither Aztotl the noble, nor Ixtli the gallant, could so soon be

forgotten. And more than one pair of eyes grew dim, more than

one voice turned husky, as mention was made of both life and

death,—peace to their ashes!

 

Heavily burdened as the air-ship now was, it would be unwise to

add more, and so but a few minor articles were removed from the

cavern, which had for so long sheltered the exiled aeronaut, then

the lever was touched, and the vessel rose slowly into air,

making one leisurely circuit of the lake, in order to show the

Children of the Sun where their husband and father came so

perilously nigh to entering upon a subterranean voyage to the

faraway Pacific. And, luckily as it appeared, they were just

in time to see that “big suck” drag another huge tree down into

its ever hungry maw.

 

Not until the shades of night again began to settle over the

earth did the professor permit another halt, but then many miles

lay between that Lost City of the Aztecs and their present

position, and, after selecting a pleasant spot for alighting,

preparations for their first al-fresco meal in company were

begun.

 

That proved to be a pleasant meal, and yet a more pleasant

evening there in the wilderness,—the first, but by no means the

last, partaken of,—for, now they need no longer fear the

heathen, Professor Featherwit was eager to more thoroughly

explore that strange land.

 

Still, the air-ship was inconveniently crowded, and that helped

to cut explorations short. Then, too, Cooper Edgecombe was

naturally eager to return to civilisation once more, especially

as he now had his heart’s dearest desire, wife and daughter, each

peerless in her peculiar way.

 

Thus it came to pass that the terra incognita was abandoned for

the time being, Professor Featherwit striking that wide path of

ruin which marked the course of the tornado, then sailing

leisurely towards the point of their initial departure, improving

the opportunity by giving a neat little lecture concerning

tornadoes in general, and that one in particular.

 

“Which totally exploded so many absurd theories held up to date,”

was his proud assertion; and then he went on to explain just how,

and why, and wherefore—

 

Why dwell longer? The tale I set out to narrate is finished.

The unknown land has been penetrated, and at least a portion of

its marvels has been inspected; imperfectly, no doubt, but that

may be attributed to circumstances which were past control.

 

And should the still curious reader ask, “Is it all true? Is

there actually such a place as the Lost City? And are the people

who live in that town really and truly the same race as once

inhabited Old Mexico?”—to all such, I can hardly do better than

this: there was a Territory of Washington. There is now a State

of Washington. Within that State may be found a range, or system

of mountains, known to the world as the Olympics. And within the

wide scope of country which lies nestling inside of that mountain

system may to this day be found—

 

But, after all, a little parable which Waldo Gillespie read to a

certain doubting Thomas, on the very evening of the day which

changed Gladys Edgecombe, spinster, into Mrs. Bruno Gillespie,

may better serve in this connection.

 

“After all, I don’t believe there is any such place or people,”

declared Doubting Thomas, nodding his head vigorously.

 

“Is that so?” mildly queried our good friend, Waldo. “Let me

give you a little pointer, old man. Once upon a time, a man by

the name of John Smith was being tried for stealing a fat hog.

The State brought three reputable witnesses to swear that they

actually saw the theft committed, while the best the defence

could offer was to declare that they could produce at least a

dozen honest citizens who would make oath to the fact that they

did not witness the crime. So—moral:

 

“We six fairly honest people saw both the Lost City and its

inhabitants. Scores of equally reliable persons never saw

either. Which sort of evidence weighs the most, my good fellow?”

 

Gentlemen of the jury, the verdict rests with you!