“Right. It was your father, Tom,” rejoined Ned. “Professor Chadwick stopped, ran back and embraced him. For a minute we all stood stock still, rooted there by sheer amazement, I guess. Well, we got to the canoes and set out down the river. There were four dugouts, and the way they dashed down that stretch of water was a caution. No need to paddle. The current just tore along for several miles. I don’t see how it was we didn’t upset, but the fact remains that we didn’t. Pretty soon we reached a part of the stream where another flowed into it, and it broadened out and grew calmer. “Then, for the first time, we felt free to talk. We hauled the canoes ashore and camped while we discussed plans. But first, you may imagine, we heard Mr. Jesson’s story. He had been captured by the tribe who had trapped us, soon after his arrival in the country. And their prisoner he had remained since. Undoubtedly he would have been put to death, but he had by great good luck managed to translate some cryptograms carved in the marble stones of some ruins in the mountains, and after that they looked on him as a sort of god. At any rate, he was well treated, but given no chance to escape. The earthquake that had set us loose had proved his opportunity, too. Of course, it’s no use my trying to give you any idea of his delight and astonishment at finding his brother-in-law and getting news of you, Tom, and of the old home. “He had just about concluded his story, when Mr. Chadwick drew from under his coat that same metal box that we had seen the big copper-colored fellow skedaddling with. He had taken it from the chap as he lay stunned, rightly guessing that it was of immense value. But he was far from surmising what it was he had really discovered, till a few moments later. “‘Maybe, Jesson,’ he said, ‘you can tell me what kind of a box this is. It’s silver, all right, for one thing, but it’s covered with some sort of picture writing, too, and——’ “But Tom’s father interrupted him with a shout. “‘Good heavens, man!’ he exclaimed, ‘you’ve got hold of the holy of holies of the Zakaks,’——that’s the name of the tribe that had hooked us. “While we all looked on with open mouths, Mr. Jesson broke a long thorn off a prickly bush growing near at hand and shoved it into a small hole in the front of the box. The lid flew open, and there inside was something that made us blink our eyes,—a blood-red stone, a blue one, and a gorgeous green gem. “We all caught our breath, I can tell you. Each stone was as big as a pigeon’s egg, and it didn’t take an expert to tell that we had before us a ruby, a turquoise and an emerald that had, probably, not their equals in the world.