Sparks, a former Navy man. Bob shook his head unknowingly.
"It's almost certain that none of them ever got back to civilization," Sparks continued, "else they would have told what had happened to the Cyclops. If I remember right, there were 309 persons aboard ship when she left the Barbados. Not a one of them was ever seen or heard from after she left the islands!”
Suddenly Bob observed a stealthy movement in a tangle of gear behind Dr. Marsden. It was only a flash of color, yellow and black, but enough to warn him that a dread danger stalked the decks of the Scienta.
He concentrated his attention for a moment on the debris, while the others stared in awe at the strange scenes offered by the subterranean world. Again he saw a faint movement behind it. Then in a flash he realized what it was. Before he had time to shout a warning to his comrades, the escaped jaguar behind the debris snarled fiercely and leaped full length at the back of Dr. Marsden.
Bob’s right hand was already buried in the pocket of his oilskins. It came out with a jerk, clutching a .45 automatic. Patti screamed at the sudden, unexpected explosions of the gun. Bullets struck the big jungle cat in midair. The jaguar seemed to hesitate and wilt. It pawed savagely at the air, went limp and fell short of its victim. It struck the deck with a thud and rolled by sheer momentum into Dr. Marsden's legs, upsetting him.
Bullard, standing nearest to Patti, pulled her to safety. But Bob's bullets had gone true. The jaguar lay dying, three bullet holes directly between its eyes.
Sparks helped the scientist to his feet as the Scienta's side scraped along the rusted hulk of the long-lost Cyclops; she buried her nose with a jar deep in the sandy beach. Norton made no effort to lend a hand. He stood leering stolidly, like a vengeful outcast.
"That was mighty good shooting, Bob," said Dr. Marsden, extending his hand. "Thanks, old man."
"We've got to be more alert hereafter, sir," said Bob quietly. "There's still another jaguar running loose on this ship."
From the forepeak came a sudden, long drawn out cry. It made Bob's blood tingle. The other jaguar had come up unnoticed from below and was perched on the forepeak ready to leap ashore. Once again Bob snapped up his automatic. But before he could fire at the beast it gave a mighty leap, paws outstretched, and vanished over the bow. In a brief moment thereafter they saw it loping serenely up the beach to finally disappear behind a wall of matted vegetation.
They did not tarry long on the decks of the Scienta. After filling gunny sacks with provisions and arming themselves with rifles and ammunition, they went down a Jacob's ladder to the beach.
Tired as they were from a sleepless night and worn out by the frenzied pitching of the derelict during the storm, they thought it best to set out at once in search for any signs of habitation. They considered it a waste of time to look through the rusted, beached hulks, though Bob, Bullard and Sparks scrambled aboard the collier and found nothing to indicate the presence of its crew. They concluded that if any members of the unfortunate crew survived, they would have in all likelihood left the wreck to search for an avenue of escape from the strange earth-bubble into which they had been drawn.
On the beach, however, Dr. Marsden became very alert. His eyes roved everywhere in search of signs that might betray the presence of humans. They had not gone more than a mile up the beach, before his toe kicked up a small object which he retrieved quickly.
"What is it, father?" Patti asked.
"A small stone idol, Patti," the doctor replied gravely. "It is distinctly Mayan."
"Well, let's get going, Marsden!" barked Norton curtly. "This is no time to look for idols!"
"You are at liberty to go alone if you wish!" snapped the scientist angrily.
Bob chuckled softly. He gave the erstwhile skipper a sarcastic nod.
"That ought to hold you for awhile, Norton," he laughed. "You'd just love to go alone, wouldn't you?"
Norton scowled at him in silence. Bob saw his hands tighten on his rifle. His eyes narrowed. The look on the ex-captain's face was enough to warn him to be on his guard. The man would bear constant watching if he, Bob Allen, was to live very long.
"How do you suppose the idol got here?" Patti inquired queerly. "Do you think there are savages in the vicinity?"
"I don't know," her father replied, frowning, "but we may soon learn. Do you know, girl, that I believe we've stumbled on that for which I have been searching for many years?"
Patti's eyes widened.
"You mean that this place is the lost continent of Atlantis?" she asked.
The men listened intently for his reply. Norton seemed uninterested. Out of the corners of his eyes, Bob slyly watched him.
"Of that, I'm uncertain,” said Dr. Marsden, "but there is every indication of it being so, judging from some of the strange tales I've heard from the Indians in the Matto Grosso of Brazil. They have a legend that tells of a great city once lying at the base of a tall mountain which I believe to have been Mt. Pelée. There came a tremendous volcanic eruption from the mountain causing all the vast lands surrounding it to submerge beneath the sea, burying the great city and many Mayans with it. This idol may be a clue to the truth, for we are without doubt somewhere under Mt. Pelée at this very moment.
"Subterranean disturbances have caused, at some time or other, great earthquakes and eruptions, and in seeking an outlet, the powerful gases created a great tunnel or blowout into which the Scienta was drawn. That is the only explanation I can find at the present for this tremendous earth bubble in which we stand now," he concluded, pocketing the idol carefully.
They plodded on up the beach. Eventually they reached a break in the wall of vegetation. There Norton discovered a narrow trail leading somewhere inland away from the shimmering lake.
Believing the trail would lead them to some habitation, they entered upon it without hesitation. Norton led the way, with Bob following close on his heels. Patti and her father came up between Bob and the crew which acted in the capacity of a rear guard.
Finally Norton, after several hours of steady hiking, halted with an exclamation.
Hanging to a thong stretched between two twisted, evil-looking trees directly in the trail was a human
