"What I can't understand," Mr. Swift was saying, "is why the natives
made so many of the same images of gold, and why there is that large
one in the underground place. What did they want of it?"

"That's part of the mystery we hope to solve," said Tom. "I'm going
to bring that big image home with me if I can. I guess--"

He was interrupted by a ring at the front door.

"I hope that isn't Andy Foger," remarked Ned.

"No danger," replied Tom. "He'll keep away from here after what he
did to my aeroplane."

Mrs. Baggert went to the door.

"A message for you, Tom," she announced a little later, handing in
an envelope.

"Hello, a cablegram!" exclaimed the young inventor. "It must be from
Mr. Illingway, in Africa. It is," he added a moment later as he
glanced at the signature.

"What does he say?" asked Mr. Swift.

"Can he give us any more definite information about the city of
gold?" inquired Ned.

"I'll read it," said Tom, and there was a curious, strained note in