“You see,” he went on, as he continued to rock the tray, “through influential friends my grandfather secured a valuable concession, the right to gather chicle on a large tract of government land. This tract is bordered on one side by the holdings of the Central Chicle Company, a powerful and jealous corporation. This company is honest, but perhaps they are unscrupulous in their competition. Who can tell? Perhaps they would drive my grandfather to the wall if they could.”
Had not the red light hid it, he might have seen a crimson flush suffuse the other boy’s face as he spoke these words. It was lost upon him.
“Our tract,” he went on, “is bordered on the other side by land owned by an unscrupulous Spaniard.
“We received a map from England showing the boundaries of our holdings. It had not been in the office a week when it was stolen. Without it our hands were tied. If we attempted to work our concession without knowing the true unfenced boundaries we were sure to infringe upon the rights of our neighbors. If we did not they would claim we had, and would ruin us with claims for indemnities.
“If we did not have the map back within a very short time—” he paused to hold the square of film to the light. A little cry of joy escaped his lips. “It’s coming! I’ve got them! See those dark spots, three of them?”
The other boy nodded.
“Three men,” he said impressively.
He dropped the film into the developing bath to resume his story. “I told grandfather to wait, I would get the map. I went straight back into the bush where the crafty Spaniard has his camp. It was dangerous, but I know the bush. I was careful. I took my camera and a flashlight outfit with me. Fortune was with me. I came upon the Spaniard and two of his men examining the map at night. They were inside a bamboo cabin. I put my camera to a crack, opened the shutter, touched off a flash, and at once was away. That is how I came to the home of your Spanish friends. That is why I am here. And there,” he said, holding the film by its corners, “is the picture. And it is far better than I hoped for.”
The film was indeed a strong and clear one. The crafty faces of the Spaniards and the square map stood out in bold relief.
“Just a touch more,” he sighed as he dipped it carefully in the solution.