THE MARCH OF TRIUMPH
Johnny and Curlie found no time for talk in the morning. They gulped down
cups of hot, black coffee, then dressed as best they might for the
triumphal procession that was to accompany them down the mountain. The
newly chosen native chief had decided that the passing of the 'Rope of
Gold' from their midst should be made a memorable occasion.
Three hundred natives, resplendent in bright colored skirts and loin
cloths, awaited them. Heading the procession were ten native drummers.
The doctor had given his word that for this one day no drummer would be
molested by native police or Marines.
Behind the drummers were the ten strongest natives of the tribe. Superb
figures they were, too! These were to bear on their shoulders the 'Rope
of Gold'.
"It," said Johnny, striving in vain to control his emotions, "why,
it--it's like some picture taken from the Bible. The High Priests and the
Ark of the Covenant, you know. Makes a fellow feel sort of solemn,
doesn't it?"
"Yes," said Curlie quietly, "it does."
The two boys took their appointed place behind the bearers of the golden
treasure, then the long march to Terre Plaisance began.
At the very end of the procession, stumping stubbornly along under the
urge of native drivers, were Curlie's three donkeys. On their backs in
hampers rode the mysterious mechanical giant who the night before had
fought so valiant a battle.
So all through that long, hot tropical day they marched until, just as
the sun sank low, they caught the gleam of white chateau and knew that
their journey was near its end.
At nine o'clock that night they were assembled in the garden of the
beautiful old chateau. They were all there, the entire cast in this
little drama of a strange tropical world. Curlie and Johnny, Doris, Dot
and Dorn were all there dressed in their best; so, too, was the little
doctor and even Johnny's aged Professor, and the Marine King.
The bronze natives had gone back to their cave, laden with such food as
the whites could provide. Old Pompee, Mona and Nieta hovered in the
background.
At this time all eyes were turned to Curlie, for, after all, had it not
been his mechanical genius that had saved the 'Rope of Gold'? And how
much did they know concerning that unusual mechanical giant who had saved
the day for them? Little enough, I assure you.
"Well," said Curlie, hesitatingly, "there really isn't much that I can
tell. I got the idea first from a thing I saw in Chicago. The
advertisement said that a mechanical man would wash clothes, sweep the
floor, light the lamps and all that.
"The man I found there was a joke. He had legs and arms of sheet steel.
His face was painted on steel. He couldn't move a muscle, so to speak.
But the things the operator did interested me. Simply by blowing whistles
of different pitch into a telephone he could make his mechanical man
start and stop a washing machine, a vacuum sweeper, and a lot of other
electrical appliances. Then, one day in New York, while I was waiting for
the boat to sail for Haiti, I came upon old Mike himself. Some foreign
fellow had brought him over from Europe. Hoped to make a lot of money
with him in vaudeville. The thing had been a flop. The fellow was broke.
I had some money I had made on rubber in South America, so I bought old
Mike and brought him along. Glad I did. Thought he would be a lot of
fun."
"He was more than that," said Johnny quietly. "He saved our lives,
without a doubt."
"I tried substituting drums for whistles," Curlie went on, "but it
wouldn't work. Remember when you and Pompee saw the ghost of the black
king and his telescope bearer walking on the wall?" he asked turning to
Dorn.
Dorn nodded.
"That was Mike and yours truly. I was trying him out."
"That," said Doris, "explains the donkey tracks we saw up there."
"Exactly. And you can't imagine what a time I had getting the donkeys to
carry all that load up those steps," Curlie laughed. "But I did it. And
Mike did his bit, wonderfully well even then. Mike is a marvel!"
"You have seen him perform," he said turning to Johnny, "but these other
people," he reached for a telephone receiver at his side, "haven't had
the pleasure."
With that he blew a shrill note into the telephone. At once there sounded
from a dark corner the clank-clank of metal striking on stone.
"Look!" said Doris, leaning eagerly forward. "He's coming, the man of
iron."
It was true. The giant towered before them.
"Pluto really did him very little harm," said Curlie. "His machete
severed two wires, that's all. There's a lot to him. Part is telephone
switchboard equipment. Radio, of course, enters in and all sorts of
wheels. But all and all he's rather complete.
"See, I blow again into the receiver. This whistle is of a lower pitch.
Now he begins to blink his eyes. And now," again a whistle, "he waves his
arms.
"He bows, he cracks his teeth, he strikes out. In fact," he said finally,
"there is nothing he cannot do, providing one works out the mechanical
appliances for making him do it.
"It's too bad," he said with a note of regret, "that I couldn't supply
him with a set of brains."
When Mike had furnished his share of the evening's entertainment and had
frightened the black servants out of a year's growth in the bargain, he
was marched back to his place in a dark corner and it was time to talk of
other things.
"To-morrow the 'Rope of Gold' sails for America," said Johnny.
"Yes," said the Professor. "I was able to get in touch with the
_Torentia_. She will touch at Cape Haitian. That saves you a tiresome
journey to Port au Prince and insures the 'Rope of Gold' a safe passage
to America.
"And to-morrow," he added, a note of great gladness creeping into his
tone, "we begin the task of building up the waste places. In due time the
old French aqueduct will be the new American one and thousands will
benefit by the pluck and daring of two American boys."
"Two boys and one giant," laughed Johnny.
Late the next afternoon a boy and a girl stood on the deck of the
_Torentia_, bound for America. The shoreline of Haiti was fast fading
from their sight. America loomed far ahead. Already they were dreaming.
Doris was seeing red, yellow, orange, pink and blue dresses without
number. Johnny was dreaming of other far lands and strange adventures.
As for Curlie and Dot, who remained behind, they were seated beneath a
great, wind-twisted cocoanut tree watching the ship grow small in the
distance. Did they too dream? Beyond doubt they did; for Haiti is the
land of sunlight and dreams.
So ends the story of the 'Rope of Gold'. Johnny Thompson's wanderings
were not yet over, as you will see if you find time to read our next
book, entitled, "The Arrow of Fire."
* * * * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
--Copyright notice provided as in the original printed text--this e-text
is public domain in the country of publication.
--Obvious typographical errors were corrected without note.
--Non-standard spellings and dialect were not unchanged.