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his companions to hear each other’s voices.
    They slowly became used to the lightning that seemed to flash unnervingly close. Then they flinched back as an even more dazzling light blinded them!
    "We been hit!" Chow bellowed.
    To his astonishment, Tom broke out laughing. "Calm down, cowpoke! Look!—it’s just the sun breaking through."
    A crack of burning yellow-white had appeared in the charcoal sky, near the western horizon. The squall seemed to be breaking apart as fast as it had appeared.
    "Wa-aal, lookit them clouds," exclaimed Chow in calmer tones. "Scurryin’ along like a sky stampede!"
    In minutes the storm was entirely over, the drenched, dripping jungle twinkling in the late-afternoon light.
    "Guess we can stow the water-wings," Bud declared. "Can we get under way again?"
    "Maybe," responded the young inventor. "These tires are pretty big and broad, and the axles are fairly high off the ground. Let’s scope out the road." Gunning the engine, he eased them forward in the direction of the roadway, expecting to find it running like a river.
    But when the truck emerged through the brush, they found that the jungle had unveiled another surprise. The road was muddy and puddled, but almost completely visible!
    "Now howd’ya figure that?" Bud asked, scratching his head. "Where’d all the water go?"
    Tom thought the matter over for a moment, glancing at the map of the area. "It’s interesting, isn’t it? This little road isn’t just gouged into the ground by occasional traffic. It seems to be very slightly elevated. The water just runs right off."
    "Guess someone really thought her through," ventured Chow. "Good news fer us."
    "I know what you’re thinking, genius boy," Bud said. "You’re wondering if somebody actually constructed the road—the old Mayas, maybe."
    Tom nodded. "That’s right. It’s disguised by several centuries worth of mud, rotting leaves, pebbles—all sorts of random junk; but go down far enough and I’ll bet you’d find some kind of stonework."
    "In other words, a paved highway!"
    "That’s what I’m thinking."
    Chow raised an objection. "That’s all right nice, but yew sure don’t go t’ the trouble to make a highway out in the middle o’ nowhere, less’n it goes someplace. That little ole village don’t strike me as worth it."
    "I agree," said Tom. "I doubt the village itself, the actual huts, is even a hundred years old. But it may have been the latest in a long line of settlements at, or near, the same spot. Look at the map." He spread it across their laps. "This broken line is our poor little road. Go on past where the Queen is and eventually it merges with the big road that leads to Polyuc. We don’t know what happened to that end of the road, of course, but there are plenty of ancient ceremonial centers and ruins in the Polyuc area."
    "Okay," Bud conceded. "What about the other end?"
    Tom moved his pointing finger along the line of the road. "It runs along fairly straight—then here, a few miles ahead, it curves off toward Huratlcuyon all of a sudden. After it passes the village, it runs on for just a couple thousand feet, looks like, and just stops."
    "Like I said," remarked Chow, "—middle o’ nowhere!"
    "Sure, that’s what it looks like now, Chow," Tom agreed. "But what might’ve been there a thousand years ago?"
    Bud’s eyes gleamed. "Maybe a wrecked super-spaceship or two?"
    Tom chuckled. "I’d settle for just one! What I really have in mind is something like a carved monument or a temple, something commemorating the strangers from the sky. We’ll see!"
    The tired truck finally pulled in to Huratlcuyon at dusk. Professor Castillez came out to greet them, shaking Tom’s hand in relief. "When the storm hit, we were very worried; especially when we contacted your man in the airplane and were told you had left hours before. The medico , Simpson, wanted to go the length of the road on foot to search for you, but Hutchcraft and I convinced him it would be too