"He says that the traveler told of this underground city of gold,"
went on Tom, "though he had never been there himself. He had met a
native who had located it, and who had brought out some of the gold,
including several of the images, and one he gave to the white man in
return for some favor. The white man took it to Africa with him."

"But where is this underground city, Tom?" asked Mr. Swift. "Doesn't
Mr. Illingway give you any idea of its location."

"He says it is somewhere in Mexico," explained the lad. "The
Africans haven't a very good idea of geography, but some of the
tribesmen whom the white traveler taught, could draw rude maps, and
Mr. Illingway had a native sketch one for him, showing as nearly as
possible where the city of gold is located."

"Tom Swift, have you got that map?" suddenly cried Mr. Damon. "Bless
my pocketbook, but--"

"I have it!" said Tom quietly, taking from the envelope a piece of
paper covered with rough marks. "It isn't very good, but--"

"Bless my very existence!" cried the excitable man. "But you're not
going to let such a chance as this slip past; are you Tom? Are you
going to hunt for that buried city of gold?"

"I certainly am," answered the young inventor quietly.

"Tom! You're not going off on another wild expedition?" asked Mr.
Swift anxiously.