“Look,” said Tom simply and in hopeless tones, as he flashed his light.  And there, completely filling the tunnel, was a great block of stone, fitting from ceiling to floor and from side wall to side wall, completely cutting off all escape.

“Trapped!” gasped Ned.  “The Mexicans or Andy Foger did this.”

“No, I don’t think so,” spoke Tom solemnly.  “I think the pulling down of the statue released this stone gate.  We trapped ourselves.  Oh, why didn’t I leave the statue alone!”

“That can’t have done it!” declared Ned.

“We can soon tell,” spoke Mr. Damon.  “Let’s go back and look.  Later maybe we can raise the block,” and they returned to the fallen gold statue.  Tom casting back a hopeless look at the barrier that had buried them alive in the city of gold.

CHAPTER XXIII

“Is it A rescue?”

“Can you see anything, Tom?  Any lever or anything by which we can raise the stone gate?”

It was Ned who spoke, and he addressed his chum, who was closely examining the pedestal of the fallen golden statue.

“Bless my soul!” exclaimed Mr. Damon, “we’ve get to find some way out of here soon—­or—­”

He did not finish the sentence, but they all knew what he meant.

“Oh good landy!” cried Eradicate.  “What’s gwine t’ become ob us?”

“Don’t you see anything, Tom?” repeated Ned.

“Not a thing.  Not a sign of a lever or handle by which the stone might be raised.  But wait, I’m going to get on top of the pedestal.”

He managed to scramble up by stepping on and clinging to various ornamental projections, and soon gained the flat place where the big golden statue had rested.  But he saw at a glance that it was as smooth as a billiard table.

“Nothing here!” he called down to Ned.

“Then how do you suppose the gate closed down when the statue was pulled off?” asked Ned.

“It must have been because of the disturbance of the equilibrium, or due to a change of weight.  Probably this pedestal rests on a platform, like the platform of a large scale.  Its weight, with that of the statue, rested on certain concealed levers, and held the stone up out of sight in the roof of the tunnel.  When I yanked down the statue I made the weight uneven, and the stone fell, and there doesn’t seem to be any way of putting the weight back again.”

“No, we never could get the statue back on the pedestal,” said Ned.  “But maybe there’s some mechanism at the stone gate, or near it, like the black knob which turned off the water.  We may be able to work that and raise the big stone slab.”

“It’s the only thing to try, as long as we haven’t dynamite to blast it,” agreed Tom.  “Come on, we’ll take a look.”

They went back to where the rock closed the tunnel, but a long and frantic search failed to show the least projection, lever, handle or any other thing, that could be moved.