fully made up your mind not to go; eh Rad?" asked Tom
of the colored man, who was busy helping them pack. "You won't take
a chance in the underground city?"

"No, Massa Tom, I's gwine t' stay home an' look after yo' daddy.
'Sides, Boomerang is gettin' old, an' when a mule gits along in
yeahs him temper ain't none ob de best."

"Boomerang's temper never was very good, anyhow," said Tom. "Many's
the time he's balked on you, Rad."

"I know it, Massa Tom, but dat jest shows what strong character he
done hab. Nobody kin manage dat air mule but me, an' if I were to
leave him, dere suah would be trouble. No, I cain't go to no
underground city, nohow."

"But if you found some of the golden images you could buy another
mule--two of 'em if you wanted that many," said Ned, and a moment
later he remembered that Tom did not want the colored man to know
anything about the trip after gold. He had been led to believe that
it was merely a trip to locate an ancient city.

"Did yo' done say GOLDEN images?" asked Eradicate, his eyes big with
wonder.

Ned glanced apologetically at Tom, and said, with a shrug of his
shoulders:

"Well, I--"

"Oh, we might as well tell him," interrupted the young inventor.
"Yes, Rad, we expect to bring back some images of solid gold from
the underground city. If you go along you might get some for your
self. Of course there's nothing certain about it, but--"

"How--how big am dem gold images, Massa Tom?" asked Eradicate
eagerly.

"You've got him going now, Tom," whispered Ned.

"How big?" repeated Tom musingly. "Hum, well, there's one that is
said to be bigger than three men, and there must be any number of
smaller ones--say boy's size, and from that on down to the real
little ones, according to Mr. Illingway."

"Real gold--yellow, gold images as big as a man," said Eradicate in
a dreamy voice. "An'--an' some big as boys. By golly, Massa Tom, am
yo' suah ob dat?"

"Pretty sure. Why, Rad?"

"Cause I's gwine wid yo', dat's why! I didn't know yo' all was goin'
after gold. My golly I's gwine along! Look out ob mah way, ef yo'
please,--Mr. Damon. I'se gwine t' pack up an' go. Am it too late to
git me a ticket, Massa Tom?"

"No, I guess there's room on the ship. But say, Rad, I don't want
you to talk about this gold image part of it. You can say we're
going to look for an underground city, but no more, mind you!"

"Trust me, Massa Tom; trust me. I--I'll jest say BRASS images, dat's
what I'll