“Can he give us any more definite information about the city of gold?” inquired Ned.

“I’ll read it,” said Tom, and there was a curious, strained note in his voice.  “This is what it says:” 

“’No more information obtainable.  But if you go to the city of gold beware of the head-hunters!’”

“Head-hunters!” exclaimed Mr. Damon.  “Bless my top-knot, what are they?”

“I don’t know,” answered Tom simply, “but whatever they are we’ve got to be on the lookout for them when we get to the gold city, and that’s where I’m going, head-hunters or no head-hunters!”

CHAPTER VII

TOM MAKES A PROMISE

It may well be imagined that the cable warning sent by Mr. Illingway caused our friends considerable anxiety.  Coming as it did, almost at the last minute, so brief—­giving no particulars—­it was very ominous.  Yet Tom was not afraid, nor did any of the others show signs of fear.

“Bless my shotgun!” exclaimed Mr. Damon, as he looked at the few words on the paper which Tom passed around.  “I wish Mr. Illingway had said more about the head-hunters—­or less.”

“What do you mean?” asked Ned.

“Well, I wish he’d given us more particulars, told us where we might be on the lookout for the head-hunters, what sort of chaps they were, and what they do to a fellow when they catch him.”

“Their name seems plainly to indicate what they do,” spoke Mr. Swift grimly.  “They cut off the head of their enemies, like that interesting Filipino tribe.  But perhaps they may not get after you.  If they do—­”

“If they do,” interrupted Tom with a laugh, “we’ll hop in our dirigible balloon, and get above their heads, and then I guess we can give a good account of ourselves.  But would you rather Mr. Illingway had said less about them, Mr. Damon?”

“Yes, I wish, as long as he couldn’t tell us more, that he’d kept quiet about them altogether.  It’s no fun to be always on the lookout for danger.  I’m afraid it will get on my nerves, to be continually looking behind a rock, or a tree, for a head-hunter.  Bless my comb and brush!”

“Well, ‘forewarned is forearmed,’” quoted Ned.  “We won’t think anything more about them.  It was kind of Mr. Illingway to warn us, and perhaps the head-hunters have all disappeared since that white traveler was after the city of gold.  Some story which he told his friends, the natives in Africa, is probably responsible for the missionary’s warning.  Let’s check over our lists of supplies, Tom, and see if we have everything down!”

“Can’t you do that alone, Ned?”

“Why?” and Ned glanced quickly at his chum.  Mr. Damon and Mr. Swift had left the room.

“Well, I’ve get an engagement—­a call to make, and—­”

“Enough said, old man.  Go ahead.  I know what it is to be in love.  I’ll check the lists.  Go see—­”