"Maybe I will, some day," said Tom.

He spoke rather uncertainly. The truth of
the matter was that he was still thinking deeply
of the visit of Professor Beecher to Mary Nestor,
and wondering what it portended.

But if Tom's sleep was troubled that night he
said nothing of it to his friends. He was up
early the next morning, for they were to leave
that day, and there was still considerable to be
done in seeing that their baggage and supplies
were safely loaded, and in attending to the last
details of some business matters.

While at the hotel they had several glimpses
of the members of the Beecher party who were
awaiting the arrival of the young professor who
was to lead them into the wilds of Honduras.
But our friends did not seek the acquaintance
of their rivals. The latter, likewise, remained
by themselves, though they knew doubtless
that there was likely to be a strenuous race for
the possession of the idol of gold, then, it was
presumed, buried deep in some forest-covered
city.

Professor Bumper had made his arrangements
carefully. As he explained to his friends, they
would take the steamer from New York to Puerto