The Lost Mine of the Amazon

by Hugh Lloyd

  “Ah, but that is the way of life, eh, Señor? Now we must be going.”

  “But did you come only to ask me about my poor lost son? Have you no_message_?” Old Marcellus asked anxiously.

  “None, Señor. Perhaps when next I come. _Adios!_”

  Hal waited to hear no more and scooted back to the shadow of hisdoorway. Soon he saw the dark figures of men emerging from Pemberton’shut and he heard the soft whisper of voices. Old Marcellus hedistinguished by his white, silvery hair, but the rest he could not makeout. Besides, Joaquim’s squat body came wobbling up from the river andescorted the two short visitors back to the bank.

  Hal was puzzled, yet he could not help feeling that there was somethingfamiliar looking about the pair. Certainly, somewhere he had heard thespeaker’s voice inside the hut. That soft, slow purring....

  CHAPTER XXVII AND THEN....

  Hal went back to his hammock without having come to any definitedecision. After all, it was difficult to distinguish one’s voice throughlayers of mud and thatch, especially when one was talking at a lowpitch.

  The following day he had breakfast with Felice. Her grandfather, sheexplained, lay abed late because of his age. She seemed gay and carefreeas she spoke and it was hard for Hal to believe that he had seen her sotense and weary only the night before.

  He rested some during the day, took a stroll along the river bank withFelice, and fished the rest of the day. Old Marcellus kept much tohimself and seemed rather taciturn when spoken to. At dinner thatevening, he did not appear.

  “Grandfather is worrying about my brother, Rene,” said Felice.

  Hal looked across the table and smiled comfortingly.

  “Aw, I guess he can take care of himself, huh? I’ll admit I was worriedtoo, but since I know he’s your brother and have heard what a ‘rep’ he’sgot, I have the idea that he can take care of himself.”

  “I know he can take care of himself,” Felice said thoughtfully, “but wearen’t always the master of a situation. Rene is sometimes headstrong.”

  “Gol darn it,” Hal said, noticing the sadness in her gray eyes, “I dobelieve you’re worried about him.”

  “I really am, Mr. Hal. You see he’s never kept us waiting so long. He’salways so concerned about Grandfather and me. Really he’s been allthat’s helped me to bear this lonely existence. I couldn’t bear anythingto happen to him.”

  “But my goodness, Miss Felice, I’m certain nothing has happened to himif he’s such a roamer as you’ve told me! Please don’t worry! If there’sanything I can do....”

  “You liked him, didn’t you, Mr. Hal?” she asked suddenly.

  “I’ll say I did,” Hal answered readily. “I thought he was one swellchap. Man, he’s the kind I like—you know, plain but not stupid.”

  Felice seemed relieved. She smiled sweetly and freely then.

  “I thought that a nice person like you couldn’t help liking Rene. You’reso much alike—loyal.”

  “Thanks, Miss Felice. I’ll always try to live up to that reputation.”

  “Is it a promise?” she asked eagerly.

  “Cross my heart and hope to die!”

  They were gay after that and strolled about the clearing in themoonlight before they said goodnight. Hal walked on air to his littlehut and was so thoughtful that he climbed into his hammock with hisclothes on.

  But it was just as well, for he hadn’t any desire to sleep and was upagain in a few moments. How could he sleep when a lovely girl likeFelice exacted a promise from him to be loyal? He’d be loyal to herwhole family just to see her smile!

  Suddenly it occurred to him that her request for his loyalty was notonly meaningless but odd. What did she want him to be loyal to? To whom?He felt silly when he thought that he had made a promise when he didn’tknow what it was all about. Still, he could stand feeling silly whereFelice was concerned.

  He stamped out a half-smoked cigarette and walked out into the clearing.It was a lovely night, breathless and clear, with just enough moon forshadow. Before he realized it, he was down at the river, gazing dreamilyat the swiftly moving water.

  Suddenly he heard the unmistakable sound of a canoe paddling toward him.Instinctively, he drew back under the tree, barely escaped stepping on apeacefully sleeping snake, and in trying to sidestep it, he slipped androlled down the bank into some thick bushes. And there he stayed.

  The canoe had already come into view and the bent forms of the twopaddlers were directing its course toward the bank. Straight to thesettlement it glided, like some long, graceful snake.

  Hal held his breath as it pushed into the bank. He dared not stir thebushes for so much as a peek then. They were too close at hand. But thenhe had no need to see, for they started to speak and he could listen.

  They talked in Portuguese, however, speaking in soft tones. Both voicesstruck Hal immediately as being familiar—the one especially so. Butstill he dared not stir, for he knew that they had not gotten out of thecanoe. Then after a moment of silence, the familiar voice spoke inEnglish.

  “There is gold here—I feel it,” it whispered. “We must get thesePembertons away—no? It would be ver’ easy. The _Pallidas_, they perhapskill Señor Pemberton, Junior. Why not make it look as if they do itagain, eh? Why not, Pizella?”

  “Si, Señor,” came the answer. “Why not so?”

  CHAPTER XXVIII HE WHO RISKS NOTHING

  “_Quem nao arrisca nao ganha_,” said Señor Goncalves, twisting at hismoustache. He chuckled softly. “Tomorrow night, perhaps?”

  “Si, Señor,” said Pizella in a whisper. “_Quem nao arrisca nao ganha._”

  Suddenly the swish of paddles sounded and, with a creaking noise, thecanoe pushed out of the clay and back into the stream. Hal held hisbreath listening for them to reveal something more but not a word didthey speak until they put a great deal of distance between themselvesand the settlement.

  Hal crawled out of the bushes, wiped his hands on his handkerchief andscrambled up the bank. He made no effort to conceal himself but walkedwith determined step past the Pemberton hut. A flickering light showedsomeone to still be up.

  “That you, Miss Felice?” Hal asked anxiously.

  “Yes, Mr. Hal.” Her small, slim body framed the doorway. “Why, I thoughtyou went to bed an hour ago!”

  “I thought you did too!”

  “Yes, but I was restless.”

  “Same here. Your grandfather asleep?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Nothing. Say, I was wondering what _quem nao arrisca nao ganha_ means!Can you tell me?”

  “He who risks nothing, gains nothing,” she answered promptly. “Where didyou hear it, Mr. Hal?”

  “Oh, from two Brazil-nuts.” He laughed. “How near are we to the nextsettlement and how many people live there?”

  She laughed softly.

  “Of all the questions! But to answer them—we live just twenty miles awayfrom the next settlement and there’s a tribe of about fifty BetoyaIndians living there. They’re better left alone though, if you’rethinking of trying to promote good will. Some Brazilian rubber menmistreated them not so long ago and they’re anything but in aconciliatory frame of mind.”

  “Well, I won’t add to their worry then,” Hal said, feeling ratherdepressed. “How long does it take to get to _Manaos_?”

  “Two long days. It depends on the skill of the paddler. Sometimes ittakes longer, but certainly it’s not less than that. Are you thinking ofleaving us, Mr. Hal?” she asked wistfully.

  “Nope, not yet. In fact, I’m not going until you see or get some wordfrom your brother.”

  “Oh, you’re kind, Mr. Hal! Awfully kind.”

  “Not kind—_human_,” Hal laughed. “I have a weakness for human beingstoo.”

  “I’m glad, for we need someone with that kind of weakness. But you seema little—well, serious. What is it?”

  “Your brother, Miss F
elice. I don’t want to seem snoopy, but I’d likeseriously to see him and talk to him. That’s why I don’t want you tofeel offended if I ask you what idea you have of his whereabouts?”

  “Why, er—Mr. Hal,” said Old Marcellus, rising out of the doorway in afaded dressing gown and an air of injury. “Isn’t this rather a late hourfor you to be talking to my....”

  “It makes not the slightest difference whom I talk to, Mr. Pemberton,”Hal interposed pleasantly. “In fact, I think it would be better for youto be here. You heard my question about your grandson?”

  “Yes, sir, I did,” said the old man with some show of dignity.

  “Then you can answer it.”

  “Suppose I refuse?”

  “That would be absurd. After all, I want to know only to help you andMiss Felice.”

  “Something’s happened—_something_!” Felice gave a little cry. “What isit, Mr. Hal?”

  “I hadn’t meant to tell you, but I suppose it’s the only way to do.After all, you know this country and I don’t. It’s simply this—not tenminutes ago while I was hidden in the bushes down at the river Ioverheard a conversation between that cat Goncalves and his boy friend,Pizella. It seems he has in his mind some plan to drive you people outof here. He said he felt that there was gold and he was going to getit.”

  “Never; not over my dead body!” said Old Marcellus stiffening to hisfull height. “If there’s gold here, we’ll get it, not Carlo Goncalves!”

  “I hope to tell you,” Hal agreed vehemently. “But to get to the bottomof this—what is it all about? I don’t mean to pry, but I want to helpyou people. I won’t stand by and see that little Brazil-nut misuse you!”

  “He is a bad lot, Goncalves,” said Old Marcellus more to himself than toHal. “And Pizella too.”

  “I could have told you that weeks ago,” Hal said. “But evidentlyGoncalves got started when he heard your story from the captain of theboat. He was one of the listeners. He probably is one of those fools whothinks that all he has to do is to pull up at some river bank and he’llfind gold. Gold isn’t found as easily as that. Anyway, Mr. Pemberton,you people know him, huh? He’s on a friendly footing here?”

  “We know him, but not because we want to,” said the old man betweentightly drawn lips. “He’s lately happened—to come here....”

  “Now you’re holding back something, Mr. Pemberton. And there’sabsolutely no need to. Nothing you say shall be held against you.” Helaughed gently. “I mean it, even if my uncle is on the government’sside. I know that in some mysterious way you people are connected withthe revolutionary movement here. You wouldn’t know Goncalves from Adamif you weren’t.”

  Felice, who had been standing silent throughout this recital, suddenlyput her hand on Hal’s arm.

  “You are right about us, Mr. Hal,” she said. “We are sort of connectedwith Ceara’s side. That is....”

  “Ceara’s a patriot and devoted to the _Cause_,” said the old mansuddenly. “Goncalves is a sneak and is in the _Cause_ for greed ratherthan patriotic motives. I’ve suspected that right along. Also he wantspower.”

  “We meant it when we said that we thought he was inhuman for what hetried to do to you,” said Felice angrily. “We told him so too! But hewould go to any ends to get the rest of the munitions through. He wantsto start fighting. He’s jealous of Ceara—he’s jealous of my....”

  “Your brother, huh?” Hal interposed. “Wasn’t that what you were going tosay?”

  Felice and her grandfather nodded.

  “I don’t know why we let you know so much,” she said, trying to smile.

  “You know why?” Hal asked. “Because you know in your heart I’d ratherhelp than anything else. Besides I promised I’d be loyal, didn’t I?Well, I mean it. And I can understand how people all alone like you arecan mix up with the _Cause_ as you call it. You have nothing else to doin this wilderness. Also, I understand now how your brother could getinto it. It’s a wonder he didn’t get into worse mischief than this withso much time on his hands.”

  “You know then that Rene is....”

  “_Renan_,” Hal interposed smiling. “I guessed it quite a few hours ago.”

  CHAPTER XXIX A SNOOPING YANKEE

  “Renan Carmichael Pemberton, that is his full name,” said Old Marcellusproudly. “We’ve always called him Rene for short. But what are you goingto do about him, Mr. Hal? You are loyal to your government as well as tous, eh?”

  “I think,” said Hal with a smile at Felice, “that I can dope out a wayto be loyal to both. Just one thing I’d like to find out though—was hein on that plane plot?”

  “I can vouch for him that he wasn’t,” Felice said stoutly. “I don’tthink Rene ever met that José Rodriguez before in his life. There aremany in the _Cause_, you know. They can’t all be acquainted. It was justa coincidence.”

  “I’m inclined to believe it. Well, what do you say we all turn in? Wemay not get such a good sleep tomorrow night.”

  They all agreed and Hal was about to go when he thought of something.

  “How about guns, Mr. Pemberton?” he asked the old man. “Have youanything like that around here?”

  The old man said he had. Enough to protect themselves for a littlewhile. And Goncalves, he was certain, was acting upon his owninitiative. Ceara, he declared, would have no part in such a scheme.

  “I hope so,” Hal said aloud when he got into his hammock a moment later.“It would pain me to know that Ceara did anything like that after allthe puffs he’s been given!” He chuckled, then looked grave the nextminute.

  He was thinking about Renan—_Rene_, and did not know which name hepreferred. He did know, however, that he thought the Pembertons a queerlot. Somehow their connection with the _Cause_ amused him, and hewondered if they, too, could not see the humorous side of it. Renan mustcertainly see it. Laughter and smuggled munitions!

  Hal realized after a while, however, that there was not so much to laughat with Goncalves. He presented a problem grave enough to make onefrown. Meanwhile the time was fleeing and before they knew it, the Señorwould be paying them a visit.

  His mind was so full of this worry that he slept but little and got upat dawn. After dressing he hurried down to the river bank to think itover, and in his nervous deliberation he pulled out of his pocket thehandkerchief which he had had with him the night before.

  It felt gritty to the touch, and when he went to put it up to his face alight-colored substance fell from it to the ground. It interested himgreatly.

  Hal examined it curiously, particularly the few particles that clung tothe handkerchief. Then he bethought himself of how, the night before, hehad slid down the sloping embankment and into the bushes to avoid thecanoeists. That was where he had wiped the wet clay from his hands.

  He shook his head uncertainly and slid down the embankment again. Therehe delved about, poking into the embankment and eagerly scrutinizingevery bit of clay that came out in his hand. In several places he didthis until he espied his footsteps in the wet earth. Almost coveringthem was some more clay which he had loosened in his fall.

  He searched through it carefully and finally brought up a handful of theyellow dust which he scooped up immediately. Then he scrambled up thebank and across the clearing, almost running into Old Marcellus as hecame out of his door.

  “G’d mornin’, young sir. You seem to have been as restless as myself,”said the old man.

  “Looks that way all right,” Hal said, hardly able to contain himself.“But it’s a good thing I was restless. I think, Mr. Pemberton, that I’vediscovered something.”

  “What is that, young man?”

  “Gold,” Hal answered, smiling. “A whole handkerchief full!”

  “_Great Scott!_” exclaimed the astonished old man.

  “Mr. Pemberton,” Hal said whimsically, opening the handkerchief for hisdelighted inspection, “that expression you just used—_Great Scott!_—isuttered by Americans only. Do
you know that? What’s more it’s a purelyYankee term and yet you use it!”

  “I wouldn’t stand for that insult, young man,” said Old Marcellus with afaint gleam of mirth in his weak blue eyes, “if it wasn’t that you’vediscovered my gold.”

  “Then you admit that you’ve given praise to a Yankee by using his name?”Hal teased. “You’ve committed the unpardonable sin, Mr. Pemberton.”

  “Then I have,” said the old man, biting back the smile that wanted toshine on his thin, haggard face. “And I’m not denying now that it took asnooping Yankee to find our gold—the gold that will mean so much to mygrandchildren.”

  “Well,” Hal laughed, “I’d rather be a snooping Yankee than....”

  “Than what?” the old man promptly asked.

  “Than Señor Carlo Goncalves,” Hal answered with a chuckle.

  CHAPTER XXX PALE DEATH

  It rained terrifically that night, lashing this way and that through theclearing. Truly, it was a night to deter the most venturesome, but asHal had high regard for Señor Goncalves as a moving force, he did notkeep to his hut and hammock. Instead, with Joaquim’s invaluable aid andtwo Colt revolvers, they kept vigil under a tree at the river.

  “You heard Señor Goncalves say he come tonight, Señor Hal?” Joaquimasked.

  “Exactly,” Hal answered. “I think he meant to do it last night, but hedidn’t have the nerve. He said something about making it look as if theIndians had done it—the _Pallidas_! Do you think it was they who killedMr. Pemberton’s son?”