"
"Rimac-Rimac," murmured the professor, looking sharply at
the contractor. "Digging a tunnel there? Why are you doing
that?" and he seemed to resent the idea.
"Why, the Peruvian government engaged me to do it to
connect the two railroad lines," was the answer. "Do you
know anything about the place?"
"Not so much as I hope to later on," was the unexpected
answer. "As it happens I am going to Rimac, and I may visit
your tunnel."
"I wish you would," returned Mr. Titus.
Later on, in their stateroom, the contractor remarked to
the young inventor:
"Sort of queer; isn't it?"
"What?" asked Tom. "His not remembering us?"
"No, though that was odd. But I suppose he is forgetful,
or pretends to be. I mean it's queer he is going to Rimac."
"What do you mean?" asked Tom.
"Well, I don't know exactly what I mean," went on the
tunnel contractor, "but our tunnel happens to start at
Rimac, which is a small town at the base of the mountains."
"Maybe the professor is a geologist," suggested Tom, "and
he may want to get some samples of that hard rock."
"Maybe," admitted Mr. Titus. "But I shall keep my eyes on
him all the same. I'm not going to have any strangers, who
happen to be around when bombs drop near us, get into my
tunnel."
"I think you're wrong to doubt Professor Bumper," Tom
said.
A few days after this, when Tom and Mr.
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