They carried Ham to the sacrificial well, and without a word, threw him in.
Morning Breeze, poised on the well rim, listened until he heard the loud smash come up from the pit floor two hundred feet below. The snakes, disturbed, made enraged noises.
Morning Breeze nodded and clucked to himself. Two of them gone! He gave another command.
The three red-fingered warriors who had been killed by Long Tom and Ham were hauled up. One after the other, the dead forms were pitched into the sacrificial well. Three loud thumps and snake sounds arose.
Very elated indeed, Morning Breeze led his followers to get further victims.
Monk had been sleeping soundly, but the stone bed was hard, and Monk got a nightmare. In the nightmare, he was fighting a million clawing, crimson-tipped fingers while a beautiful Mayan princess looked on. Monk whipped all the red fingers in his dream, but as he started toward the entrancing princess to claim his reward, a man who looked suspiciously like Doc came up and took her away. That woke Monk up.
He sat erect, then stood on his feet to stretch. Looking about, he made a discovery that surprised him. Both Doc and Renny should have been slumbering in this same room.
But their stone couches were unoccupied!
Monk thought a bit, concluded they were out talking somewhere, and decided to join them. He started to put on his trousers, then changed his mind. He had noted a maxtli, one of the broad girdles the Mayan gentlemen wore. Evidently it had belonged to whoever gave up the house for their comfort, since it hung on the wall.
Monk whipped the maxtli twice about his middle in lieu of pants, and sauntered out. He had an idea he'd go swimming if nothing better turned up.
Unable to locate either Doc or Renny, Monk made for the lake shore. He was not worried about his two friends. That anything could happen to them without an alarm being raised was hardly likely.
The lake was an appealing blue. Away from the shore a few yards, were large rocks. Monk wended his good-natured way through these.
Suddenly he got a tremendous start by encountering pretty Princess Monja face to face. She was evidently out strolling in the moonlight. Alone, too.
Monk felt a great deal of confusion. He made a move to go back hastily the way he had been coming.
But Princess Monja smiled sweetly at Monk's pleasantly ugly face, and requested: "Do not leave so quickly, please! I wish to ask you a question."
Monk hesitated. He asked bluntly, "What's the question?"
Princess Monja blushed prettily. For a moment it looked like she was going to be too bashful to put the query. Then, out it came.
It was: "What is there about myself that your leader finds undesirable?"
"Huh?" Monk stuttered, at a loss for an answer. "Oh, Doc likes you all right. He likes everybody."
"I do not believe so," said the entrancing Mayan. "He remains aloof."
"Well," floundered Monk, "I guess that's just Doc's way."
"There is a girl — he is — ?"
"In love with anybody?" Monk snorted. "Heck no! There ain't a girl livin' who could make Doc's heart — "
Monk abruptly swallowed the rest. But it was too late. He had said the wrong thing.
Princess Monja spun on her heel and vanished among the large rocks. The trace of a sob lingered behind her.
Monk stood there in the moonlight a while. Then he went back to his sleeping quarters. Doc and Renny were still missing.
Just to ascertain that things were all right, Monk stepped into the adjoining room where Johnny, Long Tom, and Ham were supposed to be slumbering.
All three were gone!
Monk's huge fingers curled and uncurled. He knew something was wrong now! All five of his friends would not be out taking the night air at once
A giant, animal-like figure, Monk sprang outside. His keen ears strained. They detected faint noises. To the right! He made for them, his leaps enormous, bounding.
Quite a number of men seemed to be receding furtively through the night. Monk put on a burst of speed to overhaul them.
The golden pyramid came in view.
On the left of it, Monk discerned the men he was following. Fully a dozen of them! They carried a limp, bound form in their midst
Monk had a technique for running in the dark. His unnaturally long arms played an important part. He simply doubled over and traveled by great bounds, balancing himself with his long arms when he stumbled. He could make unbelievable speed.
He raced his best now. He tried repeatedly to see who it was the men — they were red-fingered warriors — were carrying.
Johnny! They had Johnny!
Monk did not know Long Tom and Ham had already gone into the sacrificial well, or he would have been even more horrified than he was.
The red-fingered men had seen him now. They quickened their own pace, shedding caution. They ran out on the stone pavement around the sacrificial well.
Still fifty feet from them, Monk saw them lift Johnny's bound and gagged frame and toss him into the fiendish pit!
Monk heard the loud, heavy thump come up from the well bottom!
That turned Monk into such a fighting devil as he seldom became. His great hands scooped up two rocks. He hurled them with the velocity of cannon balls.
Both rocks downed their men.
So sudden was the attack, so fearsome a figure did Monk present that the red-fingered group turned to a man and fled wildly into the brush. Monk overhauled one before they got away. He heaved the loathsome creature up like a feather and dashed him against a tree. The lifeless body bounced back almost to his feet, so terrific was the impact.
Into the undergrowth Monk dived. He searched like a terrier after rats. But the warriors knew the vegetation. They evaded him.
It was high tribute to the fright Monk inspired that they did not even dare throw a knife or a spear at him, but crept away like sneaking coyotes into the night.
Slowly, with his heart the heaviest it had ever been, Monk went back to the sacrificial well. He had heard that thump come up from the bottom — he knew the well must be at least two hundred feet deep.
Poor Johnny! To meet a fate like that! One of the most brilliant living geologists and archaeologists snuffed out at the dawn of his career. It was awful.
Nearing the well, Monk could hear the gruesome hissing and swishing of serpent bodies deep in the black Gehenna of a pit. He recognized the noises for what they were. Johnny didn't stand a chance of being alive! Salty tears came to Monk's eyes.
With an effort, he brought himself to look over the rim of the sacrificial well.
Out of the pit came Ham's sarcastic drawl.
"I ask you, brothers, did you ever see an uglier face than that?"
Chapter 14. DOC PULLS A RESURRECTION
So astounded was Monk that he came within a hair of toppling head-first into the sacrificial well. He hastily got away from the brink.
A sibilant "Sh-h-h!" came out of the hole, warning silence.
Johnny then appeared, shoved from behind. Johnny was a little scuffed and pale, but otherwise none the worse for his grisly encounter. He kept low, behind the screen of bushes that surrounded the sacrificial well.
Long Tom was helped out next. Then Ham. They, too, were unharmed. And finally Renny.
At last, Doc himself appeared.
"You wait here," Doc whispered. "I'm going to the plane to get some materials."
He vanished like a bronze ghost in the moonlight.
"What happened to you birds?" Monk demanded.
"The red-fingered rascals got us, one at a time, bound and gagged us, and threw us in the well," Long Tom explained.
"Aw-w-w! I mean, what saved you?"
"How?"
"It beat anything you ever saw," Long Tom murmured admiringly. "Doc and Renny were out prowling, and saw the warriors grab me. Doc ran to the plane and got a stout silk rope, or, rather, two of them." Long Tom pointed. "There they are!"