by Hugh Lloyd
Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rick Morris and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
A HAL KEEN MYSTERY STORY
THE LOST MINE OF THE AMAZON
By HUGH LLOYD Author of The Copperhead Trail Mystery The Hermit of Gordon’s Creek The Doom of Stark House, Etc.
_ILLUSTRATED BY_ BERT SALG
GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS : : NEW YORK
Copyright, 1933, by GROSSET & DUNLAP, Inc. _All Rights Reserved_
_Printed in the United States of America_
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE I A Riddle 1 II An Intruder 10 III Pizella, the Inscrutable 16 IV A Deck Chase 24 V A Story of the Past 28 VI A Familiar Follower 36 VII Hunches 41 VIII A Dutch Uncle 48 IX Exit Rene 56 X Safety? 63 XI A Vigil 70 XII For the “Cause” 77 XIII Alone and Waiting 85 XIV Rodriguez Has Company 91 XV A Day and a Night 96 XVI With the Morning 100 XVII A Guest of Savages 106 XVIII Convalescence 112 XIX A Prisoner 118 XX The Passing of Big Boy 126 XXI A Jungle Vision 131 XXII Felice and Hal 137 XXIII Some Talk 144 XXIV Old Marcellus 147 XXV After Dinner 152 XXVI A Familiar Voice 157 XXVII And Then 163 XXVIII He Who Risks Nothing 168 XXIX A Snooping Yankee 175 XXX Pale Death 180 XXXI A Decision 186 XXXII The Coronel Goncalves 190 XXXIII Renan! 197 XXXIV A Fear 202 XXXV A Phantom of Hope 206 XXXVI Adios! 210
THE LOST MINE OF THE AMAZON
CHAPTER I A RIDDLE
Hal lay rigid in his deck chair and watched from under half-closed lids.The dapper little man came toward them soundlessly and approached DenisKeen’s chair with all the slinking agility of a cat. Suddenly his handdarted down toward the sleeping man’s pocket.
SUDDENLY THE MAN’S HAND DARTED DOWN TOWARD THE SLEEPINGMAN’S POCKET.]
Hal leaped up in a flash, grasping the little man’s pudgy wrist.
“What’s the idea, huh? Whose pocket do you think....”
Denis Keen awakened with a start.
“Hal—Señor Goncalves!” he interposed. “Why, what’s the fuss, eh?”
“Fuss enough,” said Hal angrily. “The fine Señor Goncalves has turnedpickpocket I guess. I saw him reaching down to your pocket and....”
“But you are mistaken,” protested the dapper Brazilian. His voice,aggrieved and sullen, suddenly resumed its usual purr. “See, gentlemen?”he said with a note of triumph.
Hal and his uncle followed the man’s fluttering hand and saw that he waspointing toward a magazine thrust down between the canvas covering andthe woodwork of Denis Keen’s deck chair.
“I came to get that—to have something to read,” purred the Señor. Heturned to Hal with that same triumphant manner. “Being short of chairs,I have shared this one with your uncle. This afternoon I have sat in itand read the magazine. I leave it there at dinner and now I come to getit—so?”
“Which is all true,” said Denis Keen, getting to his feet. “I’m terriblysorry that my nephew put such a construction on your actions, SeñorGoncalves—terribly sorry. But he didn’t know about our sharing chairsand that accounts for it.”
Hal’s smile was all contrition. He shrugged his broad shoulders and gavethe Brazilian a firm, hearty handclasp.
“My error, Goncalves. You see, I don’t know the arrangements on thisscow yet. I’ve been knocking around below decks ever since we left_Para_—talking to the crew and all that sort of thing. It’s my firstexperience in Amazon, South America.” He laughed. “I just came up alittle while ago and after snooping around found Unk asleep in thatchair so I just flopped into the vacant one next. Then you camealong—well, I’m sorry.”
Señor Goncalves moved off into the shadows of the upper deck, smilingand content. The small echo of his purring goodnight lingered on thebreeze, bespeaking the good will with which he parted from his new-foundAmerican friends.
Hal and his uncle had again settled themselves in the deck chairs andfor a long time after the Brazilian had gone they sat in silence. Theboat ploughed on through the softly swishing Amazon and there was noother sound save the throbbing of the engines below.
“Well, Hal, ‘all’s well that ends well,’ eh?” said Denis Keen, stiflinga yawn. “I’m mighty glad that our dapper Señor took our apologies andparted in a friendly spirit. It goes to prove how necessary it is foryou to curb that reckless reasoning of yours.”
Hal shifted his lanky legs and ran his fingers through a mass of curlyred hair. His freckled face was unusually grave as he turned to hisuncle.
“Gosh, you didn’t fall for that, did you?” he asked with not a littlesurprise.
“Why not—you were in the wrong! As I said before—your recklessness,Hal....”
“Unk, that wasn’t recklessness; that was just plain cautiousness. If youhad seen the way he came sliding and slinking toward you in thedarkness, you wouldn’t be so touched by the little tussle I gave him.People don’t sneak around looking for mislaid magazines—they stamparound and yell like the dickens. I know I do. Besides, he made noattempt to take the magazine; his browned and nicely manicured hand shotstraight for your inner coat pocket and I don’t mean maybe.”
“Hal, you’re unjust—you’re....”
“Now, Unk,” Hal interposed. “I’m not that bad, honest. I know what Isaw, and believe me I’d rather think that he didn’t want to go for yourinner pocket. But he did! If he was so bent on getting the magazine andif his feelings were ruffled to the point that he made out they were,how is it he went off without it!”
“What?”
“Why, the magazine. There it is alongside of you, right where it was allalong.”
“
So it is, Hal.” Denis Keen thrust his long fingers down between thecanvas and the woodwork and brought forth the disputed magazine. Hestudied it for a moment, shaking his long, slim head.
“Well, do you still think it doesn’t look mighty funny, Unk?” Hal askedin smiling triumph.
“Hal, my dear boy, there’s an element of doubt in everything—mosteverything. You’ll learn that quickly enough if you follow in myfootsteps. And as for this particular incident—well, you must realizethat Señor Goncalves suffered insult at your hands. You admittedyourself his feelings were ruffled. Well then, is it not perfectlyplausible that he could have forgotten the magazine because of his greatstress? I dare say that anyone would forget the object of his visit inthe face of that unjust accusation. Señor Goncalves was thinking only ofhis wounded pride when he bid us goodnight.”
“Maybe,” said Hal with a contemptuous sniff, “and maybe not. Anyway,I’ve got to hand it to you, Unk, for thinking the best of that littleBrazil-nut. You want to see things for yourself, huh? Well, I’ve got ahunch you’ll see all you want of that bird.”
“What could he possibly know or want?”
“Listen, Unk,” Hal answered, lowering his voice instinctively, “theBrazilian Government must have a few leaks in it the same as any othergovernment. They invited the U. S. to send you down here to coöperatewith them in hunting down the why and wherefore of this smugglingfirearms business, didn’t they? Well, what’s to stop a few outsidersfrom finding out where and when you’re traveling?”
“Good logic, Hal,” Denis Keen smiled. “You think there must be informersin the government here giving out a tip or two to the rebel men, eh? Inother words, you think that perhaps our dapper Señor Carlo Goncalves isa rebel spy, eh?”
“Righto, Unk, old scout. And I think that Brazil-nut was trying to pickyour pocket—I do! Listen, Unk, have you any papers you wouldn’t careabout losing right now, huh?”
“One, and it’s my letter of introduction from Rio to the interventor(he’s a sort of Governor, I believe) of _Manaos_. It’s a polite andlengthy document, in code of course, asking his help in securing asuitable retinue for our journey into the interior after that scampRenan.”
“_Renan!_” Hal breathed admiringly. “Gosh, Unk, that fellow’s name justmakes me want to meet him even if he is being hunted by two countriesfor smuggling ammunition to Brazilian rebels.”
“He’s merely wanted in connection with the smuggling, Hal. Naturally hetakes no actual part in it. He merely exercises his gracious personalityin forcing unscrupulous American munitions manufacturers to enter intohis illegal plans. Renan is a soldier of fortune from what I canunderstand. No one seems to know whether he’s English or American—it iscertain that he’s either one or the other. But everyone is agreed thathe’s a man of mystery.”
It was then that they became aware of a figure moving in the shadowsaft. Hal jumped from his chair and was after it in a flash. However, thefigure eluded him, and though he searched the deck and near saloon for afull five minutes he returned without a clue.
“Not a soul anywhere, Unk,” he announced breathlessly, “I circled thewhole blame deck too. Didn’t even run into a sailor. Funny. Were wetalking very loud that time?”
“Not above a whisper. Hardly that. I dare say one would have had to comeright up to our chairs to catch a word. Regardless of your hunches, Hal,I never take chances in talking—not anywhere.”
“I know—I just thought maybe ... say, Unk, is the Brazil-nut’s cabin thefourth one from ours?”
“I believe so. Why?”
“Just that there wasn’t a light or anything. But then, maybe he went tobed.”
“Even a Brazilian like Señor Goncalves has to go to bed, you know.”
Hal smiled good-naturedly at the playful thrust and shook back an errantlock of hair from his forehead.
“Even so, Unk, my impression of him is that he goes to bed when otherpeople don’t. Don’t ask me why I think it. I couldn’t tell you. Thatbird is a riddle to me.”
“And you’re going to solve him yourself, I suppose?”
“Me?” asked Hal. He laughed. “I’d like to, but, who knows?”
Who, indeed!
CHAPTER II AN INTRUDER
As they undressed for bed they heard the throb of the engines cease and,after the captain gave some orders in blatant Portuguese, the boatslowed down and stopped. An obliging steward informed Hal that they wereanchoring at the entrance to the Narrows, waiting for daybreak beforethey dared pass through its tiny channels.
“Then that means we’ll have a nice, quiet night to sleep,” said DenisKeen, stifling a yawn. “Those engines are the noisiest things inChristendom.”
Hal undressed with alacrity and said nothing until after he had crawledinto his bunk.
“You feel all right about everything, huh, Unk?” he asked thoughtfully.“That is—I mean you don’t think that these revolutionary fellows wouldhave any reason to get after you, huh?”
Denis Keen laid his shoes aside carefully and then got into the bunkabove his nephew.
“My mind’s at peace with all the world,” he chuckled. “I’m notinterested in the revolutionary fellows—I’m interested in trailing downRenan to find out how, when and where he gets in communication withAmerican munitions men. That’s my job, Hal. It’s the American munitionsmen that the U. S. government will eventually handle satisfactorily, andI’ve got to find who they are. As for Renan—if he’s a U. S. citizen andwe can get him on U. S. territory—well, so much the better. But if not,Brazil has reason enough to hold him, and if I can help them to do it, Iwill. Of course, in sifting things down to a common denominator, theBrazilian rebels wouldn’t have any reason to think kindly of me. Mypresence in their country is a warning that their munitions supply willshortly be cut off.”
“Then the Brazil-nut—if he is a spy, would have reason enough to want tofind out what you know, huh?”
“If he is a spy, he would. If he could decipher my letter he would findout that the Brazilian Government has reason to believe that Renan is ina jungle spot many miles back from the _Rio Yauapery_. It is in asection still inhabited by wild tribes. But Renan wouldn’t worry about alittle thing like that. If he’s visiting General Jao Ceara, commandingthe rebel forces, then the savage element is twofold. From all accounts,Ceara’s got a wild lot of men—half-castes for the most part—he’s onehimself.”
“Man, and we’ve got to go to a place like that!”
“Maybe not. If I know these half-castes as well as I think I do, theycan be bribed into giving me a little information. In that way I canfind out when and where the next munitions shipment is due and lo, totrace the rest of the story, both before and after, will becomparatively easy.”
“I hope so, Unk. Gosh, there’s promise of thrills, though, huh?”
“Some. We’ve been promised adequate military protection. We’re to workout of _Manaos_. Now I’ve told you all I know, Hal, so put your mind atrest for the night. My precious code letter is safe in my pajama pocket.Go to sleep. I can hardly talk, I’m so drowsy.”
Hal stretched out and, after pounding his pillow into a mound, lay down.He could catch a glimpse of the deck rail through the tiny window andwatched the shadows playing upon it from the mooring lights, fore andaft.
A deep, languorous silence enveloped the clumsy boat, and now and againHal caught a whiff of the damp, warm jungle in the faint breeze thatblew about his curly head. It gave him pause, that smell of jungle, andin his mind he went many times over every detail of what his uncle hadtold him concerning Renan, that colorful man of mystery who was eventhen hidden away in a savage stronghold.
The thought of it was fascinating to an adventurous young man like Haland he felt doubly glad that he had given up the prospect of a mildsummer in the north woods for this strange and hazardous journey on theAmazon. He closed his eyes to try and visualize it more clearly and wassoon fast asleep.
His dreams w
ere vivid, fantastic things in which he did much breathlesschasing through trackless jungle after hundreds of bayonets. That thebayonets were animate, breathing things did not seem to surprise him inthe least. Neither did he feel any consternation that this vast army offirearms should suddenly resolve itself into one human being who quicklyoverpowered him and stood guard over his supine body.
Ever so gradually his subconscious being was aroused to an awarenessthat another presence was standing over him and looking down upon hissleeping countenance. Startled by this realization, Hal became suddenlyalert. He felt a little chilled to lie there trying to feign sleep whilehe thought out what move he should make first.
Suddenly, however, he knew that this alien presence was no longer besidehim. He heard not a sound until the door creaked and in a second he wason his feet shouting after the fleeing intruder.
A sailor came running and at Hal’s orders he continued the chase whilethe excited young man hurried back into the cabin to get his shoes.Denis Keen was by that time thoroughly aroused and on his feet.
Hal explained the situation in a few words while he pulled on his shoes.
“I guess I surprised him, Unk—just in time,” he said breathlessly.
“Just in time to see him get away,” said Denis Keen significantly. “Mypajama pocket....”
“You mean, Unk....”
“That my letter has been stolen.”
CHAPTER III PIZELLA, THE INSCRUTABLE
Before Hal had recovered from his astonishment, there burst into thecabin, the sailor, who was leading a cringing, ratlike little man.Behind them came the captain, wringing his hands excitedly and talkingin vociferous Portuguese.
