we didn't believe the story--but yet!

"There is no such cloth made by any of these local tribes," I announced,
examining those rags with great care. "Somewhere up yonder they spin and
weave and dye--as well as we do."

"That would mean a considerable civilization, Van. There couldn't be
such a place--and not known about."

"Oh, well, I don't know. What's that old republic up in the Pyrenees
somewhere--Andorra? Precious few people know anything about that, and
it's been minding its own business for a thousand years. Then there's
Montenegro--splendid little state--you could lose a dozen Montenegroes
up and down these great ranges."

We discussed it hotly all the way back to camp. We discussed it with
care and privacy on the voyage home. We discussed it after that, still
only among ourselves, while Terry was making his arrangements.

He was hot about it. Lucky he had so much money--we might have had to
beg and advertise for years to start the thing, and then it would have
been a matter of public amusement--just sport for the papers.

But T. O. Nicholson could fix up his big steam yacht, load his
specially-made big motorboat aboard, and tuck in a "dissembled" biplane
without any more notice than a snip in the society column.

We had provisions and preventives and all manner of supplies. His
previous experience stood him in good stead there. It was a very
complete little outfit.

We were to leave the yacht at the nearest safe port and go up that
endless river in our motorboat, just the three of us and a pilot; then
drop the pilot when we got to that last stopping place of the previous
party, and hunt up that clear water stream ourselves.

The motorboat we were going to leave at anchor in that wide shallow
lake. It had a special covering of fitted armor, thin but strong, shut
up like a clamshell.

"Those natives can't get into it, or hurt it, or move it," Terry
explained proudly. "We'll start our flier from the lake and leave the
boat as a base to come back to."

"If we come back," I suggested cheerfully.

"'Fraid the ladies will eat you?" he scoffed.

"We're not so sure about those ladies, you know," drawled Jeff. "There
may be a contingent of gentlemen with poisoned arrows or something."

"You don't need to go if you don't want to," Terry remarked drily.

"Go? You'll have to get an injunction to stop me!" Both Jeff and I were
sure about that.

But we did have differences of opinion, all the long way.