The sun rose red and hot, looking like the bottom of a newly-scoured
brass bowl. It was insufferably warm, and there was no breeze. Alex got
out a spyglass and went to the prow.
“What are you looking for?” asked Case. “Expect to see Frank through a
mile of trees?”
“No,” grinned Alex. “I’m looking for the equator! It is so hot here that
it seems to me as if it must have sagged down toward the creek.”
“That’s a very bad joke!” laughed Case.
In a moment Alex turned his glass toward the shore, scanning the jungle
into which they had penetrated the night before. Presently his eyes
brightened and he handed the glass to Clay with a whoop of joy.
“There’s Frank!” he shouted. “Coming on a run—or as near to a run as a
thousand creeping vines tangled around his legs will admit of. And I
don’t see him carrying any cargo. Seems to be running in ballast!”
“See anyone chasing him?” asked Jule of Clay, who was now looking
anxiously through the glass.
“Not a soul,” replied Clay. “He is at the row-boat now, and is putting
off for the _Rambler_.”
“Guess it doesn’t require any spyglass to see that!” Jule broke in.
“Hello, there, kid!” he shouted, leaning over the railing, “where have
you been? You’ve missed a square meal.”
Frank rowed out to the motor boat and climbed wearily to the deck before
attempting any reply. Then he handed a closely-tied oblong packet to
Clay and dropped into a convenient chair.
“What’s that?” demanded the boys in a chorus. “The cargo!” smiled Frank.
Clay hastily untied the strings which secured the paper wrapping of the
packet, disclosing a canvas bag, which gave forth a pleasant, tinkling
sound as the boy bounced it up and down in his hand.
“What’s in it?” asked Jule. “Sounds like something you can turn into
gasoline, all right.”
Frank replied with a motion for Clay to open the bag. He did so, and a
roll of gold coins was exposed to view. Amazement, incredulity, joy, all
showed on the faces of the boys, who now gathered closer about Clay and
began fingering the coins, of which there were about two score.
“It is the real stuff!” Alex decided, turning his head critically.
“American twenty-dollar pieces!” gasped Case.
“Where in the name of all the seven seas did you get it?” asked Clay.
But the lads did not wait for Frank to reply. They seized him by the
arms, the neck, the legs, and hustled him about, thumping him with their
fists in the way boys have of expressing great appreciation. Even
Captain Joe came out of the cabin and joined in the celebration.
“You just wait!” Alex shouted, when the excitement had in a measure died
out—that is, when Frank was permitted to stand on his own feet
again—“just you wait until I feed you up proper for this! There’s a tin
of roast beef left that we’ve been saving for a joy-feast, and that is
what you’re going to get for breakfast! And fish! And wild fowl! And
dessert! And there’s a can of honey, and some sixty-cent coffee we’ve
been hoarding! You just wait and I’ll show you a feed that will make
your eyes stick out!”
Alex at once set about celebrating the receipt of the wonderful “cargo”
by getting Frank such a breakfast as had not been seen on the _Rambler_
since she had turned her nose out of the Mississippi. This
characteristic expression of approval was seconded by the others, and
all Frank’s efforts to induce the others to share his meal were ignored.
Captain Joe deigned to accept a bit of the roast beef, but he did it as
one conferring a great favor.
“Now, where did you get it?” asked Clay, when Frank drew back from the
little cabin table and sought the cooler air under the awning which ran
over the forward deck. “Did you know all the time that you could find it
here? Then why didn’t you tell us?”
“Did you see anything of Ugly in there?” asked Case, his mind going back
to the dark hours in the jungle.
“Ugly!” Jule exclaimed. “Why, that Indian is running yet.”
“Or the Englishmen?” persisted Case.
“We went in the wrong direction last night,” Frank replied, dodging the
questions. “This morning, when it began to get daylight, I saw right
where my tree hotel was, and went to it without difficulty.”
“You never found that in a tree!” Jule objected.
“Yes, I did,” answered Frank. “I found it in a tree because I put it in
a tree on the way down. That is one reason why I wanted to get back in a
motor boat. We could stop here without attracting attention and get the
money.”
“But we did attract attention! And you said—you said you found the cargo
here, in a tree, when you were on your way down the river!” insisted
Alex.
“I did find it in a tree, but only after I had hidden it there,” Frank
explained. “You see, as I have already told you, I was pursued on the
way out, and, thinking I might be caught and searched—as I was—I hid the
money in a tree—the money and, other things I valued more than the
money. Then, after my pursuers went away, I went back to the tree and
took out some of the money, and something else, and made my way out of
the country.”
“What was this something else?” asked Alex, always curious to know
everything connected with the boy’s past life.
“I shall have to tell you about that some other time,” laughed Frank.
“Just now, I think, we’d better be getting out into the Amazon again,
for we still have a long way to go before we sight Cloud island.”
“There’s that Cloud island again!” cried Jule. “I’d like to know what
you mean by keeping the secret of it from us.”
“You’ll have to wait!” was all Frank would say.
Early in the forenoon the _Rambler_ was headed for the Madeira, and
then, much to the surprise of the others, Frank turned the prow down the
stream toward the Amazon.
“What about this little town up the river where you were going to
dispose of your cargo?” demanded Alex.
“You refer to Rosarinho?” asked the boy.
“Don’t know the name,” Alex answered, “except that it sounds to me like
rhino—which means hard cash in some localities in Chicago.”
“That is a good town to visit for the purchase of supplies,” Frank said,
“but I have an idea that the Englishmen we have been having trouble with
will go there, so we’ll give them the slip and buy our supplies at
Monteiro, which is on the right bank of the Madeira, near the junction
with the Amazon. It is not wise to hunt trouble by following those men.”
“What did they want in that jungle?” asked Jule. “They were stranded,”
answered Case, who had heard the story told Frank by the Indian. “They
wanted our boat—that’s all.”
Then Case turned and whispered to Frank:
“Ever see those men before? I thought one of them seemed to have a
mutual understanding with you about—well, about Cloud island, you know.
What is all this talk about Cloud island?”
“As I have told you boys before, I can’t tell you anything now. I may
tell you all about it in time, but just now there is nothing to say.”
“But about those men?” persisted Case.
“I don’t remember either face,” Frank replied, slowly, “but I have an
idea that they knew me—that is, that they have heard of me, somewhere,
before we met in the jungle. If they are going to Cloud island, as they
told the Indian, they certainly knew something about my affairs before
they started. Now, that is all I’m going to tell you about it,” he added
with a smile.
Arrived at Monteiro, Clay brought out the company purse and showed that
it was empty.
“We’ll have to borrow from Frank,” he said. “I was in hope that we could
get a real cargo somewhere, and so get through on our own resources, but
it seems that we’ve either got to go back, drifting down, or run in
debt.”
“Why,” Frank said, astonished, “this money belongs to the common fund—it
is just as much yours as it is mine.”
“I fail to see it in that light,” Clay insisted. “The money belongs to
you individually, and if we use any portion of it we’ll pay it back.”
“And here I’ve been riding with you, and living off you, for weeks,”
urged Frank. “If you took all this money you wouldn’t have any too much
pay for what you’ve done for me. If you don’t take it, I’ll get off at
Monteiro and wait for a steamer going up the river.”
“If you try that,” Alex declared, “I’ll set the dog on you.”
“Aw, give the money to me!” Jule cut in. “I’ll borrow it and contribute
it as my share of the expense. Anytime a boy wants to give away money,
I’ll accommodate him!”
“We’ll give a note for it,” suggested Case, and so the boys counted out
the gold pieces—there were forty of the denomination of $20—and gave a
joint note for $800. Jule laughed as he put his name to the paper in
letters an inch long.
“I’ll make ’em good and big,” he explained, “because the name is all
there is to it, the names, I mean. We are all infants in the eyes of the
law, you know.”
“Where did you learn that term?” asked Alex. “You must have been
studying law.”
“Dr. Holcomb says I’m an infant in the eyes of the law, anyway!” the boy
replied. “Now, if you’ve got this money matter settled, suppose we go
ashore and feed up. I’m hungry for something that hasn’t been lugged
about in tin cans for a month.”
“Rich we are!” shouted Alex, “and we’ll have a feed on shore that will
put an inch of fat on our ribs! Hurry up, fellows!”
“Someone must remain on the boat,” suggested Frank, and I’ll be the
guard. I can go ashore after you all get back.”
“You furnish the money and stay out of the feast!” cried Jule. “Not if I
know it. I’ll remain on the boat, and you can bring me a modest meal in
a bushel basket. You’ll need Frank as interpreter, anyway.”
It was finally arranged that Jule should remain on board, and the others
soon set off in the little boat. They reached the town in a few moments,
wandered about the illy-kept streets for a time, and then hunted up a
place where motor boat supplies were sold. The order for gasoline and
provisions was given, Clay promising to pay when the goods were
delivered on board the _Rambler_.
“These people may be all right,” Clay explained to the others, “but it
is just as well to pay on delivery.”
Finally they came to a public restaurant which seemed to be tolerably
clean. It was a small public eating house, such as one finds at Havana
and Para, operated in Spanish style and boasting a fair menu. The boys
found that they could get steaks there and ordered liberally. An extra
one was ordered cooked for Jule.
The lads enjoyed their dinners greatly, Alex declaring that the only
thing lacking to make it perfect was the motion of a boat on a stream!
The cooking was good and the attendance perfect, but there was something
about the seeming friendliness of the proprietor, who insisted on
personally attending to the wants of the boys, which was not wholly
sincere—at least so it seemed to Case.
When he referred to the matter, however, the others laughed at him, and
Clay even showed a handful of gold when he paid for the dinners and the
basket which was going back to Jule, well loaded with eatables. After
leaving the place Clay turned back.
“I’m going to have some of that odd-tasting coffee put into the basket
for Jule,” he said. “I meant to have it done while we were in there.
I’ll go back and have it put in, and you boys go on around the town and
meet me there.”
The others protested against Clay going back alone, but he only laughed
at their fears. Half an hour later, after walking through the main
streets of the odd Brazilian city, the boys entered the restaurant to
find Clay sitting at the table they had occupied with his head on an
arm, which was resting on the table. He seemed to be sound asleep, and
Case and Alex shook him vigorously.
“He has been asleep for a long time,” the proprietor explained, in
Spanish, translated by Frank, “and I let him alone. He had company with
him at the table first, and they ordered coffee—coffee to drink and more
coffee to put in the basket.”
The boys lifted Clay to his feet and shook him until he opened his eyes.
He seemed to be dazed, and Frank set the boy back into a chair and gave
his attention to his pockets. They were all turned wrong side out and
empty!
The proprietor insisted on calling in the police. He declared that one
of the men Clay had visited with at the table was not above suspicion,
and began to talk vaguely about getting the money back.
“Wait,” Frank said to him. “We’ll go on board with him first. You see,”
he continued, talking to the boys after they had finally succeeded in
getting Clay out of the place, apparently against the wishes of the
owner, “if he calls in the police we’ll be held no one knows how long as
witnesses. One of us may even be accused of taking the money. They are
all against foreigners here, so the best thing for us to do is to pocket
the loss and get away as soon as possible.”
This was agreed to, with many sighs at the loss of the money, and the
boys were soon on board the _Rambler_, where they found Jule arguing
fiercely with a man who did not know what Jule was saying any more than
Jule knew what he was saying. Frank listened and turned a pale face to
Clay.
“We’re tied up,” he said, “until the stores are paid for!”