“The natives had a legend that they brought bad luck,” said Mr. Jesson, “and indeed they seemed to.”
“I hope they bring evil fortune to that greaser who has them now,” struck in Abner Jennings.
The two sailors added their growling assent to this wish, nor could any of the party refrain from echoing it.
[Illustration: Jack liberated Captain Andrews.]
“I suppose he’s got clear away,” hazarded Ned presently.
“Of course he has,” grunted Captain Andrews. “I’ll bet there’s twenty miles between him and this island right now. And, incidentally, I’m ready to bet as to his future.”
“What will it be?” asked Jack, with some curiosity.
“Why, he’ll throw up his governorship,—the Diaz government is on its last legs, anyhow,—and skip out to Paris. He’ll sell those gems over there and—live happy ever afterward.”
“Why Paris?” asked Mr. Jesson.
“Oh, all those scallywags go over there when they’ve made their graft,” laughed Ned; “they won’t tolerate them any other place, I guess. When I was over there with my folks two years ago we saw more princes and exiled presidents from South America than you could shake a stick at. You couldn’t have thrown a brick on the main boulevards without hitting some ruler who had left his country for his country’s good.”