CHAPTER XV.—THE VANISHING “CARGO”
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!”