TREASURE AT LAST
With the aid of a flashlight Pant and Kirk were exploring a vast
warehouse filled with sacks of chicle. They arrived in their taxi and
having been admitted, had been told in a general way where they would
find the last cargo that had arrived.
“Here! Here it is!” exclaimed Pant at last. “I can recognize the weave of
my grandfather’s sacks.”
“Perhaps,” he said after a considerable search for his particular sack,
“the thread has been accidentally drawn out and lost.”
“If it has,” panted Kirk, “we’ll open up every one. We—”
“There! There it is!” Pant pounced upon a sack. The green thread shone
along its side.
With trembling fingers he cut the cord that bound it. A moment later,
carrying a mysterious package wrapped in palm leaves, the two boys passed
out of the door.
A second taxi was hailed. “We’d better go back to Uncle’s office,” said
Kirk. “He—he’s awfully square, and knows a lot. He’ll tell us what to
do.”
Pant scarcely heard him as he was crowded once more into a taxi. His mind
was in wild commotion. At last he was in New York, in possession of a
vast treasure. Whose treasure was it, the old Don’s or his own? He had
read George Elliott’s Romola, remembered Tito, the traitor to an old man,
and recalled his terrible end.
“I will not be a traitor,” he told himself. “If the treasure appears to
belong to the old Don he shall have it, every penny!” At that his
troubled mind found rest.
“I suppose,” said Kirk, “that you have wondered how I came to be at the
old Don’s.”
“Often,” said Pant.
“Well, you see, my Uncle is my guardian. He holds nearly half the stock
of his Company in my name. When I am of age it will be mine to manage. My
Uncle believes I should know all there is to be known about the business,
from the jungle to the wrapper,” he laughed.
“So he sent me down there. He got the Carib giant for my bodyguard, and
told me to go where I chose, only to keep my eyes open. I came at last to
the old Don’s. I liked it so much up there that I stayed a long time.”
“Glorious, wasn’t it!” said Pant. “I’d like to live there with the old
Don for a whole year.
“This,” he said, patting the package beside him, “will make the old Don
rich.”
“The old Don! It’s yours!” Kirk stared.
“It’s his by direct inheritance.”
“How do you know that? Is there a monogram or a coat of arms on the box?”
“No.”
“Then you will never be sure.” The younger boy’s tone was earnest,
entreating. “Don’t spoil the old Don by making him rich.”
“It’s not for us to decide what a man’s rightful possessions will do for
him,” said Pant thoughtfully. “The only question for us to ask is, ‘Are
they his?’”
“Perhaps,” he said after a moment’s silence, “your Uncle can help us
out.”
“I am sure he can,” said Kirk.
Nothing could exceed the astonishment of the chicle magnate when, having
lifted the lid of the ancient silver box, his eyes fell upon the treasure
of pearls within. Instinctively, he stepped back and locked the door to
his office.
“That’s the greatest treasure that ever rested on my desk,” he whispered.
“We must get them to the vault for the night. And you say they belong to
Kirk’s friend, the old Don?”
“I will tell you,” said Pant. Sitting on the edge of a chair, leaning far
forward, muscles tense, eyes aglow, he told the story of the beaten
silver box from beginning to end.
“Well,” sighed the magnate when the tale was told. “That’s quite a yarn.
Wouldn’t believe a word of it if it weren’t for this.” He touched the
silver box.
“Legally, in a court of law,” he said, rubbing his forehead thoughtfully,
“your old Don wouldn’t have much chance. You could hold the pearls.
Anyway, in this case possession is nine points of the law. You have only
to pay the duty on them, then sell them.”
“But I don’t want—”
“You want to do the square thing,” the magnate interrupted. “Then why not
call it a case of salvage, and split the proceeds fifty-fifty. That will
give each of you more money than you are likely to have any use for, and
certainly more than you need.
“If your grandfather is interested in chicle,” he added, “tell him I’ll
sell you an interest in our Company. Then in years to come you and Kirk
will be partners. Pant and Kirk, Chicle Exporters. How does that sound?”
He threw back his head and laughed.
“Great! Wonderful!” they exclaimed together.
The beaten silver box took one more ride that day—to the Custom’s
offices. There it was placed in a vault until the value of the pearls
could be settled upon.
A few days later the pearls were parcelled out in groups and sold to
several dealers for a considerable fortune.
A few days after the docking of the _North Star_, a happy group sat about
a table in a small dining room of the most sumptuous of New York hotels.
They had met there, Johnny, Pant, Kennedy and Madge, for a farewell
feast. Business had been disposed of, and the Kennedys were going home.
“Johnny,” said Kennedy as he rose to stand before a pretty open
fireplace, “it would be nice if we might have a bit of a wood fire. Makes
a fellow feel sort of cheerful.”
“Not there. You couldn’t,” said Johnny. “That’s not a real fireplace. It
has no flue.”
“Then what is it for?”
“To add a suggestion of comfort.”
Only half satisfied, the old jungle man sat down.
“Seems a bit stuffy,” he said a moment later. “Let’s open a window.”
“Those are not windows,” said Johnny. “They are looking-glasses that seem
windows. We are probably a half block from any outer wall. This hotel
covers an entire block.”
“A sham!” said Kennedy, rising. “This whole thing’s sham. This is my
party. I’m paying the bill. There’s a real ship with a real cabin down in
the harbor. There are real windows in her that look out on a real harbor.
I propose that we eat there.”
So aboard the ship they dined and talked. The food was good. The talk was
better. Old days and new were discussed. Pant was to sail with the
Kennedys. He was going back to Central America to make his grandfather
and the old Don comfortable for life. The Kennedys were going home. That
was quite enough for them.
Johnny, who alone was to remain, felt a little lonesome.
“Some day,” Johnny said to Madge as they parted, “when I am tired, when
the rush and push that is our America gets too much for me, I am coming
back to Stann Creek, to listen to the thrum of the banjo and the Caribs’
song, to watch the moon rise over the jungle and to smell the forbidden
fruit ripening on the trees.”
“Please do,” said Madge Kennedy, brushing at her eyes.
“The latchstring’s out and the door swings in,” said Kennedy, gripping
his hand, “and may God bless you for all you have done.” So they parted.
Pant returned to the jungle. There he was destined to remain for many a
day to come; for was not his Grandfather there and the old Don, and last
but not least, the beautiful Senorita Ramoncita Salazar? What better
company could he ask and what more thrilling adventures could be found
than awaits one at every turn of jungle trail?
As for Johnny, the city with its imitation fireplaces, its mirror windows
and much more that is artificial and unreal, could not hold him long. One
day he met a curious sort of chap with a strange hobby. Fascinated by
this man’s tale of adventure, he joined company with him. The story of
these fresh adventures in a land far from tropical wilds will be found in
our next book, “Johnny Long-Bow.”
The Roy J. Snell Books
Mr. Snell is a versatile writer who knows how to write stories that will
please boys and girls. He has traveled widely, visited many
out-of-the-way corners of the earth, and being a keen observer has found
material for many thrilling stories. His stories are full of adventure
and mystery, yet in the weaving of the story there are little threads
upon which are hung lessons in loyalty, honesty, patriotism and right
living.
Mr. Snell has created a wide audience among the younger readers of
America. Boy or girl, you are sure to find a Snell book to your liking.
His works cover a wide and interesting scope.
Here are the titles of the Snell Books:
_Mystery Stories for Boys_
1. Triple Spies
2. Lost in the Air
3. Panther Eye
4. The Crimson Flash
5. White Fire
6. The Black Schooner
7. The Hidden Trail
8. The Firebug
9. The Red Lure
10. Forbidden Cargoes
11. Johnny Longbow
12. The Rope of Gold
13. The Arrow of Fire
14. The Gray Shadow
15. Riddle of the Storm
16. The Galloping Ghost
17. Whispers at Dawn; or, The Eye
18. Mystery Wings
19. Red Dynamite
20. The Seal of Secrecy
21. The Shadow Passes
22. Sign of the Green Arrow
_The Radio-Phone Boys’ Series_
1. Curlie Carson Listens In
2. On the Yukon Trail
3. The Desert Patrol
4. The Seagoing Tank
5. The Flying Sub
6. Dark Treasure
7. Whispering Isles
8. Invisible Wall
_Adventure Stories for Girls_
1. The Blue Envelope
2. The Cruise of the O’Moo
3. The Secret Mark
4. The Purple Flame
5. The Crimson Thread
6. The Silent Alarm
7. The Thirteenth Ring
8. Witches Cove
9. The Gypsy Shawl
10. Green Eyes
11. The Golden Circle
12. The Magic Curtain
13. Hour of Enchantment
14. The Phantom Violin
15. Gypsy Flight
16. The Crystal Ball
17. A Ticket to Adventure
18. The Third Warning
Transcriber’s Notes
--Copyright notice provided as in the original printed text—this e-text
is public domain in the country of publication.
--Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and
dialect unchanged.
--Left the reference to hominid warfare for the amusement of readers.
--Relocated promotional material to the end of the book, and
completed/corrected the list of books in each series (using other
sources).