“Coffee and cocoa is the great industry in this valley, for Caracas affords an easy market for shipments. Caracas chocolate, made from the cocoa bean, is known everywhere, and so is Maracaibo coffee.”
“Hockley was saying that Mocha coffee came from here,” put in Frank. “But I said it came from Arabia.”
“So it does come from Arabia. But there is a kind of coffee grown here which is a good deal like Mocha in flavor and is often sold as such.”
“I’d like to know something about coffee raising,” put in Darry. “We drink so much of the stuff that I think we ought to know about it.”
“I will explain when we get to Professor Morano’s plantation.”
An hour’s drive from Caracas brought them to the entrance of the plantation and they passed through a wide gateway along a broad and well kept path lined with giant palms. Between the palms were urns of flowers, all blooming in red, yellow and blue. Trailing vines were also in evidence, and they covered the stone wall which separated the plantation from the highway.
The plantation house proved to be an old and substantial affair, one story in height, and occupying the space of a small city block. The outside was decorated with stucco work painted in pale blue and yellow. There was the usual archway in front, over which was erected a lattice-work covered with trailing plants.
The civil engineer, for such Enrique Morano really was, was already there to receive them, in spotless white, even to the tie with a diamond which he wore.
“Welcome, three times welcome to all of you!” he cried, gaily, as he ran forward and assisted Professor Strong to alight. “You have given me a great pleasure by coming, and while you stay you must make yourselves perfectly at home.”
“Thank you, we will, Morano,” answered the professor.