The Motor Boys in Mexico

OR

THE SECRET OF THE BURIED CITY

By CLARENCE YOUNG

Author of “The Racer Boys Series” and “The Jack Ranger Series.”

NEW YORK CUPPLES & LEON CO.

BOOKS BY CLARENCE YOUNG

THE MOTOR BOYS SERIES

(Trade Mark, Reg. U. S. Pat. Of.)

12mo. Illustrated Price per volume, 60 cents, postpaid

THE MOTOR BOYS Or Chums Through Thick and Thin

THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND Or A Long Trip for Fun and Fortune

THE MOTOR BOYS IN MEXICO Or The Secret of the Buried City

THE MOTOR BOYS ACROSS THE PLAINS Or The Hermit of Lost Lake

THE MOTOR BOYS AFLOAT Or The Stirring Cruise of the Dartaway

THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE ATLANTIC Or The Mystery of the Lighthouse

THE MOTOR BOYS IN STRANGE WATERS Or Lost in a Floating Forest

THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE PACIFIC Or The Young Derelict Hunters

THE MOTOR BOYS IN THE CLOUDS Or A Trip for Fame and Fortune

THE JACK RANGER SERIES

12mo. Finely Illustrated Price per volume, $1.00, postpaid

JACK RANGER’S SCHOOLDAYS Or The Rivals of Washington Hall

JACK RANGER’S WESTERN TRIP Or From Boarding School to Ranch and Range

JACK RANGER’S SCHOOL VICTORIES Or Track, Gridiron and Diamond

JACK RANGER’S OCEAN CRUISE Or The Wreck of the Polly Ann

JACK RANGER’S GUN CLUB Or From Schoolroom to Camp and Trail

Copyright, 1906, by Cupples & Leon Company

The Motor Boys in Mexico

[iii]

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

[iv]

[v]

PREFACE.

Dear Boys:

At last I am able to give you the third volume of “The Motor Boys Series,” a line of books relating the doings of several wide-awake lads on wheels, in and around their homes and in foreign lands.

The first volume of this series, called “The Motor Boys,” told how Ned, Bob and Jerry became the proud possessors of motor-cycles, and won several races of importance, including one which gave to them, something that they desired with all their hearts, a big automobile touring car.

Having obtained the automobile, the lads were not content until they arranged for a long trip to the great West, as told in “The Motor Boys Overland.” On the way they fell in with an old miner, who held the secret concerning the location of a lost gold mine, and it was for this mine that they headed, beating out some rivals who were also their bitter enemies.

While at the mine the boys, through a learned professor, learned of a buried city in Mexico, said to contain treasures of vast importance. Their curiosity was fired, and they arranged to go to[vi] Mexico in their touring car, and the present volume tells how this trip was accomplished.

Being something of an automobile enthusiast myself, it has pleased me greatly to write this story, and I hope the boys will like “The Motor Boys in Mexico” fully as well as they appeared to enjoy “The Motor Boys” and “The Motor Boys Overland.”

Clarence Young.

May 28, 1906.

[1]

CHAPTER I. THE PROFESSOR IN TROUBLE.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

It was the sound of a big revolver being fired rapidly.

“Hi, there! Who you shootin’ at?” yelled a voice.

Miners ran from rude shacks and huts to see what the trouble was. Down the valley, in front of a log cabin, there was a cloud of smoke.

“Who’s killed? What’s the matter? Is it a fight?” were questions the men asked rapidly of each other. Down by the cabin whence the shots sounded, and where the white vapor was rolling away, a Chinaman was observed dancing about on one foot, holding the other in his hands.

“What is it?” asked a tall, bronzed youth, coming from his cabin near the shaft of a mine on top of a small hill. “Cowboys shooting the town up?”

“I guess it’s only a case of a Chinaman fooling[2] with a gun, Jerry. Shall I run down and take a look?” asked a fat, jolly, good-natured-looking lad.

“Might as well, Chunky,” said the other. “Then come back and tell Ned and me. My, but it’s warm!”

The stout youth, whom his companion had called Chunky, in reference to his stoutness, hurried down toward the cabin, about which a number of the miners were gathering. In a little while he returned.

“That was it,” he said. “Dan Beard’s Chinese cook got hold of a revolver and wanted to see how it worked. He found out.”

“Is he much hurt?” asked a third youth, who had joined the one addressed as Jerry, in the cabin door.

“One bullet hit his big toe, but he’s more scared than injured. He yelled as if he was killed, Ned.”

“Well, if that’s all the excitement, I’m going in and finish the letter I was writing to the folks at home,” remarked Jerry. The other lads entered the cabin with him, and soon all three were busy writing or reading notes, for one mail had come in and another was shortly to leave the mining camp.

It was a bright day, early in November, though the air was as hot as if it was mid-summer, for the valley, which contained the gold diggings, was located in the southern part of Arizona, and the sun fairly burned as it blazed down.

[3]

The three boys, who had gone back into their cabin when the excitement following the accidental shooting of the Chinaman had died away, were Jerry Hopkins, Bob Baker and Ned Slade. Bob was the son of Andrew Baker, a wealthy banker; Ned’s father was a well-to-do merchant, and Jerry was the son of a widow, Julia Hopkins. All of the boys lived in Cresville, Mass., a town not far from Boston.

The three boys had been chums through thick and thin for as many years as they could remember. A strange combination of circumstances had brought them to Arizona, where, in company with Jim Nestor, an old western miner, they had discovered a rich gold mine that had been lost for many years.

“There, my letter’s finished,” announced Jerry, about half an hour after the incident of the shooting.

“I had mine done an hour ago,” said Ned.

“Let’s run into town in the auto and mail them. We need some supplies, anyhow,” suggested Bob.

“All right,” assented the others.

The three boys went to the shed where their touring car, a big, red machine in which they had come West, was stored. Ned cranked up, and with a rattle, rumble and bang of the exhaust, the car started off, carrying the three lads to Rockyford, a town about ten miles from the gold diggings.

[4]

“I wonder if we’ll ever see Noddy Nixon or Jack Pender again?” asked Bob, when the auto had covered about three miles.

“And you might as well say Bill Berry and Tom Dalsett,” put in Jerry. “They all got away together. I don’t believe in looking on the dark side of things, but I’m afraid we’ll have trouble yet with that quartette.”

“They certainly got away in great shape,” said Bob. “I’ll give Noddy credit for that, if he is a mean bully.”

Noddy Nixon was an old enemy of the three chums. As has been told in the story of “The Motor Boys,” the first book of this series, Jerry, Ned and Bob, when at home in Massachusetts, had motor-cycles and used to go on long trips together, on several of which they met Noddy Nixon, Jack Pender and Bill Berry, a town ne’er-do-well, with no very pleasant results. The boys had been able to secure their motor-cycles through winning prizes at a bicycle race, in which Noddy was beaten. This made him more than ever an enemy of the Motor Boys.

The latter, after having many adventures on their small machines, entered a motor-cycle race. In this they were again successful, defeating some crack riders, and the prize this time was a big, red touring automobile, the same they were now using.

Once they had an auto they decided on a trip[5] across the continent, and their doings on that journey are recorded in the second book of this series, entitled “The Motor Boys Overland.”

It was while out riding in their auto in Cresville one evening that they came across a wounded miner in a hut. He turned out to be Jim Nestor, who knew the secret of a lost mine in Arizona. While sick in the hut, Nestor was robbed of some gold he carried in a belt. Jack Pender was the thief, and got away, although the Motor Boys chased him.

With Nestor as a guide, the boys set out to find the lost mine. On the way they had many adventures with wild cowboys and stampeded cattle, while once the auto caught fire.

They made the acquaintance, on the prairies, of Professor Uriah Snodgrass, a collector of bugs, stones and all sorts of material for college museums, for he was a naturalist. They succeeded in rescuing the professor from a mob of cowboys, who, under the impression that the naturalist had stolen one of their horses, were about to hang him. The professor went with the boys and Nestor to the mine, and was still with them.

The gold claim was not easily won. Noddy Nixon, Pender, Berry and one Pud Stoneham, a gambler, aided by Tom Dalsett, who used to work for Nestor, attacked the Motor Boys and their friends and tried to get the mine away from them.

[6]

However, Jerry and his friends won out, the sheriff arrested Stoneham for several crimes committed, and the others fled in Noddy’s auto, which he had stolen from his father, for Noddy had left home because it was discovered that he had robbed the Cresville iron mill of one thousand dollars, which crime Jerry and his two chums had discovered and fastened on the bully.

So it was no small wonder, after all the trouble Noddy and his gang had caused, that Jerry felt he and his friends might hear more of their unpleasant acquaintances. Noddy, Jerry knew, was not one to give up an object easily.

In due time town was reached, the letters were mailed, and the supplies purchased. Then the auto was headed back toward camp. About five miles from the gold diggings, Ned, who sat on the front seat with Bob, who was steering, called out:

“Hark! Don’t you hear some one shouting?”

Bob shut off the power and, in the silence which ensued, the boys heard a faint call.

“Help! Help! Help!”

“It’s over to the left,” said Ned.

“No; it’s to the right, up on top of that hill,” announced Jerry.

They all listened intently, and it was evident that Jerry was correct. The cries could be heard a little more plainly now.

[7]

“Help! Hurry up and help!” called the voice. “I’m down in a hole!”

The boys jumped from the auto and ran to the top of the hill. At the summit they found an abandoned mine shaft. Leaning over this they heard groans issuing from it, and more cries for aid.

“Who’s there?” asked Jerry.

“Professor Uriah Snodgrass, A. M., Ph.D., F. R. G. S., B. A. and A. B. H.”

“Our old friend, the professor!” exclaimed Ned. “How did you ever get there?” he called down the shaft.

“Never mind how I got here, my dear young friend,” expostulated the professor, “but please be so kind as to help me out. I came down a ladder, but the wood was rotten, and when I tried to climb out, the rungs broke. Have you a rope?”

“Run back to the machine and get one,” said Jerry to Bob. “We’ll have to pull him up, just as we did the day he fell over the cliff.”

In a few minutes Bob came back with the rope. A noose was made in one end and this was lowered to the professor.

“Put it around your chest, under your arms, and we will haul you up,” said Jerry.

“I can’t!” cried the professor.

“Why not?”

“Can’t use my hands.”

[8]

“Are your arms broken?” asked the boy, afraid lest his friend had met with an injury.

“No, my dear young friend, my arms are not broken. I am not hurt at all.”

“Then, why can’t you put the rope under your arms?”

“Because I have a very rare specimen of a big, red lizard in one hand, and a strange kind of a bat in the other. They are both alive, and if I let them go to fix the rope they’ll get away, and they’re worth five hundred dollars each. I’d rather stay here all my life than lose these specimens.”

“How will we ever get him up?” asked Bob.

[9]

CHAPTER II. THE PROFESSOR’S STORY.

For a little while it did seem like a hard proposition. The professor could not, or rather would not, aid himself. Once the rope was around him it would be an easy matter for the boys to haul him out of the hole.

“If we could lasso him it would be the proper thing,” said Bob.

“I have it!” exclaimed Ned.

He began pulling up the rope from where it dangled down into the abandoned shaft.

“What are you going to do?” asked Jerry.

“I’ll show you,” replied Ned, adjusting the rope around his chest, under his arms. “Now if you two will lower me into the hole I’ll fasten this cable on the professor and you can haul him up. Then you can yank me out, and it will be killing two birds with one stone.”

“More like hanging two people with one rope,” laughed Bob.

But Ned’s plan was voted a good one. Jerry and Bob lowered him carefully down the shaft,[10] until the slacking of the rope told that he was at the bottom. In a little while they heard a shout:

“Haul away!”

It was quite a pull for the two boys, for, though the professor was a small man, he was no lightweight. Hand over hand the cable was hauled until, at last, the shining bald head of the naturalist was observed emerging from the black hole of the abandoned mine.

“Easy, easy, boys!” he cautioned, as soon as his chin was above the surface. “I’ve got two rare specimens with me, and I don’t want them harmed.”

When Jerry and Bob had pulled Professor Snodgrass up as far as possible, by means of the rope, the naturalist rested his elbows on the edge of the shaft and wiggled the rest of the way out by his own efforts. In one hand was a big lizard, struggling to escape, and in the other was a large bat, flapping its uncanny wings.

“Ah, I have you safe, my beauties!” exclaimed the collector. “You can’t get away from me now!” He placed the reptile and bat in his green specimen-box, which was on the ground a short distance away, his face beaming with pride over his achievement, though in queer contrast to his disordered appearance, for he had fallen in the mud of the mine, his clothes were all dirt, his hat was gone and he looked as ruffled as a wet hen.

[11]

“Much obliged to you, boys,” he said, coming over to Bob and Jerry. “I might have stayed there forever if you hadn’t come along. Seems as though I am always getting into trouble. Do you remember the day I fell over the cliff with Broswick and Nestor, and you pulled us up with the auto?”

“I would say we did,” replied Jerry. “But now we must pull Ned up.”

Once more the rope was lowered down the shaft and in a few minutes Ned was hauled up safely.

“It’s almost as deep as our mine shaft,” he said, as he brushed the dirt from his clothes, “but I didn’t see any gold there, for it’s as dark as a pocket. How did you come to go down, professor?”

“I suspected I might get some specimens in such a place,” replied the naturalist, “so I just went down, and I had excellent luck, most excellent!”

“It’s a good thing you think so,” put in Jerry. “Most people would call it bad to get caught at the bottom of a mine shaft.”

“Oh, it wasn’t so bad,” went on the professor, casting his eyes over the ground in search of any stray specimens of snakes or bugs. “I had my candle with me until I lost it, just after I caught the lizard and bat. I could have come up all right if the ladder hadn’t broken. It was quite a hole, for a fact. It reminds me of another big hole I once heard about.”

[12]

“What hole is that?” asked Ned.

“Oh, that’s quite a story, all about mysteries, buried cities and all that.”

“Tell us about it,” suggested Jerry.

“To-night, maybe,” answered the naturalist. “I want to get back to camp now and attend to my specimens.”

The boys and the professor, the latter carrying his box of curiosities, were soon in the auto and speeding back to the gold mine.

That night, sitting around the camp-fire, which blazed cheerfully, the boys asked Professor Snodgrass to tell them the story he had hinted at when they hauled him from the mine shaft.

“Let me listen, too,” said Jim Nestor, filling his pipe and stretching out on the grass.

Then, in the silence of the early night, broken only by the crackle of the flames and the distantly heard hoot of owls or howl of foxes, the naturalist told what he knew of a buried city of ancient Mexico.

“It was some years ago,” he began, “that a friend of mine, a young college professor, was traveling in Mexico. He visited all the big places and then, getting tired of seeing the things that travelers usually see, he struck out into the wilds, accompanied only by an old Mexican guide.

“He traveled for nearly a week, getting farther and farther away from civilization, until one night[13] he found himself on a big level plain, at the extreme end of which there was a curiously shaped mountain.

“He proposed to his guide that they camp for the night and proceed to the mountain the next day. The guide assented, but he acted so queerly that my friend wondered what the matter was. He questioned his companion, but all he could get out of him was that the mountain was considered a sort of unlucky place, and no one went there who could avoid it.

“This made my friend all the more anxious to see what might be there, and he announced his intention of making the journey in the morning. He did so, but he had to go alone, for, during the night, his guide deserted him.”

“And what did he find at the mountain?” asked Bob. “A gold mine?”

“Not exactly,” replied the professor.

“Maybe it was a silver lode,” suggested Nestor. “There’s plenty of silver in Mexico.”

“It wasn’t a silver mine, either,” went on the professor. “All he found was a big hole in the side of the mountain. He went inside and walked for nearly a mile, his only light being a candle. Then he came to a wall of rock. He was about to turn back, when he noticed an opening in the wall. It was high up, but he built a platform of stones up and peered through the opening.”

[14]

“What did he see?” asked Jerry.

“The remains of an ancient, buried city,” replied Professor Snodgrass. “The mountain was nothing more than a big mound of earth, with an opening in the top, through which daylight entered. The shaft through the side led to the edge of the city. My friend gazed in on the remains of a place thousands of years old. The buildings were mostly in ruins, but they showed they had once been of great size and beauty. There were wide streets with what had been fountains in them. There was not a vestige of a living creature. It was as if some pestilence had fallen on the place and the people had all left.”

“Did he crawl through the hole in the wall and go into the deserted city?” asked Nestor, with keen interest.

“He wanted to,” answered the naturalist, “but he thought it would be risky, alone as he was. So he made a rough map of as much of the place as he could see, including his route in traveling to the mountain. Then he retraced his steps, intending to organize a searching party of scientists and examine the buried city.”

“Did he do it?” came from Bob, who was listening eagerly.

“No. Unfortunately, he was taken ill with a fever as soon as he got back to civilization, and he died shortly afterward.”

[15]

“Too bad,” murmured Jerry. “It would have been a great thing to have given to the world news of such a place in Mexico. It’s all lost now.”

“Not all,” said the professor, in a queer voice.

“Why not? Didn’t you say your friend died?”

“Yes; but before he expired he told me the story and gave me the map.”

“Where is it?” asked Nestor, sitting up and dropping his pipe in his excitement.

“There!” exclaimed the professor, extending a piece of paper, which he had brought forth from his possessions.

Eagerly, they all bent forward to examine the map in the light of the camp-fire. The drawing was crude enough, and showed that the buried city lay to the east of the chain of Sierra Madre Mountains, and about five hundred miles to the north of the City of Mexico.