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“When do we start?” War chortled. “Why wait three weeks?”

“There’s a little item of school for one thing,” Mr. Livingston reminded him. “Also, your parents must consent. Talk the matter over with them and report to me tomorrow.”

By the following day, all the Scouts with exception of Bob, had obtained permission to make the journey. His parents felt that he was too young to attempt such a long trip. Instead, they were taking him with them on a motor tour to California.

“Honestly, I don’t mind too much,” Bob cheerfully informed his friends. “I’m not a softie, but those tales you told about being held captive by Indians in Peru left me rather cold. I’m partial to a nice bed and three square meals a day.”

“This is a different sort of trip,” Jack said. “We don’t expect to become mixed up in an intrigue over Inca gold.”

“It may be emeralds this time,” Bob predicted. “Something’s brewing or Mr. Corning wouldn’t have sent for Hap.”

“You’re probably right,” Jack agreed with a grin. “Trouble certainly has developed at the Last Chance mine. And it’s a cinch we’re going to be in the thick of it!”