y! They got here first and they
may have all the gold!"

"If they have they will share it with us!" cried Delazes fiercely.

"Quick!" Tom called hoarsely to Ned, Mr. Damon and Eradicate. "We've
got to fight. It's the only way to save our lives. We must fight,
and when we can, escape, get to the airship and sail away. It's a
fight to the finish now."

He raised his automatic revolver, and, as he did so one of the
savages saw the golden head of the statue lying at Tom's feet. The
man uttered a wild cry and called out something in his unknown
tongue. Then he raised his spear and hurled it straight at our hero.

Had not Mr. Damon pulled Tom to one side, there might have been a
different ending to this story. As it was the weapon hissed through
the air over the head of the young inventor. The next minute his
revolver spat lead and fire, but whether he hit any one or not he
could not see, as the place was so filled with smoke, from the
powder and from the torches. But some one yelled in pain.

"Crouch down and fire!" ordered Tom. "Low down and they'll throw
over our heads." It was done on the instant, and the four revolvers
rang out together.

There were howls of pain and terror and above them could be heard
the gutteral tones of Delazes, while Andy Foger yelled:

"Look out dad! Here, help me to get behind something or I may be
hit. Mr. Delazes, can't you tell those savages to throw spears at
Tom Swift and his gang?"

"They are doing it, Senor Foger," replied the Mexican. "Oh, why did
I not think to bring my gun! We haven't one among us." Then he
called some command to the head-hunters who had apparently been
enlisted on the side of himself and the two Fogers.

The automatic revolvers were soon emptied, and the place was now so
full of smoke that neither party could see the other. The torches
burned with a red glare.

"Reload!" ordered Tom, "and we'll make a rush for it! We can't keep
this up long!"

It took but an instant to slip in another lot of cartridges and
then, on Tom's advice, they slipped the catches to make the
automatic weapons simple ones, to be fired at will.

They sent several more shots through the door-way but no cries of
pain followed, and it was evident that their enemies had stepped
back out of the line of fire.

"Now's our chance!" cried Tom. "The way is clear. Come on!"

He and the others dashed forward, Tom carrying the golden head,
though it was hard work. It was not very heavy but i