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Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
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This work is out of copyright in countries with a copyright
period of 70 years or less, after the year of the author's death.
If it is under copyright in your country of residence,
do not download or redistribute this file.
Original content added by RGL (e.g., introductions, notes,
RGL covers) is proprietary and protected by copyright.
RGL e-Book Cover
Based on an image created with Microsoft Bing software
"HULLOA, Jerry!"
Jerry Ames, half asleep in a hammock slung on the verandah of his two-room shack, roused, sat up, stared at the tall figure in breeches and khaki jacket which had suddenly materialised beside him.
"You—Lester!" he exclaimed.
"Don't look as if you thought I was a ghost!" said the other, with a slightly supercilious smile. "I'm your cousin, Lester Maine. I hoped you'd be glad to see me."
Jerry pulled himself together. Of all the men whom he expected or wished to see Lester Maine was the last. Yet he tried to speak cordially.
"I am glad to see you, Lester, but it's a bit of a shock. I picture you in Piccadilly, and when you walk into this God-forsaken place in the middle of Brazil, you'll admit I have a right to be surprised."
Lester shrugged.
"I couldn't 'phone, because there isn't a telephone within five hundred miles; it was no use writing, because I'd have got here ahead of any post you were likely to get; so I had to risk giving you heart failure by my sudden appearance."
By this time Jerry was out of the hammock and putting whisky on the table. He took down a red olla which hung under the eaves.
"No soda water, I'm afraid, and no ice. But this will be fairly cool."
"My good chap, I could drink pump water. I never knew what it was to be thirsty till I reached this infernal country of yours. Here's how!" he added, as he raised his glass.
Jerry watched him as he drank. Despite the sticky heat, Lester looked cool and almost clean. True, there were some green smudges on his khaki breeches, yet even in these wilds he carried with him an air that was slightly dandified. Tall, slim, and distinctly good looking, he was a complete contrast to Jerry's rugged squareness.
Jerry pulled out two long cane chairs and waited until Lester had seated himself and filled his glass afresh. Then he spoke.
"I'm still waiting to hear what's brought you to Estrella."
Lester pulled a letter from his pocket.
"This will explain. It's from Joan.
Jerry's lips tightened as he took the letter. Joan Walford had once been very dear to him, but she had preferred Lester, and that was the main reason why Jerry had taken the offer of Don Jaime Ferreira to manage this coffee estate in the depths of Matto Grosso. But his hands were quite steady as he tore open the envelope. This is what he read:
Dear old Jerry,
Lester has heard of a gold mine which seems to be in your part of the world. He believes it a bargain, and wants to buy it. I am not easy about it. I'm very fond of Lester, but not blind to his faults, and one is over-confidence in his own judgment. If it is not asking you too much, I want you to go with him to the place. But please don't tell him that I asked this, because he hates any sort of interference. I know you will do this, Jerry, for your old friend
Joan.
Jerry looked up from the letter to see Lester's grey eyes fixed on him.
"Got it?" he asked briefly. Jerry frowned.
"A gold mine," she says, "but where is it?"
"A place called Tres Alamos. Joan thinks I'm rash, Jerry, but not in this case. I had a personal report from Hugh Selby who is not only a first-class mining engineer but as straight as they make 'em. Properly worked he says there's a fortune in the vein. And I need money, Jerry. I want Joan to have good cars, horses, everything she needs."
Jerry nodded.
"It sounds as if it was worth looking into," he agreed drily. "Well, this is the slack season here, and I can spare a week for the trip."
Lester laughed.
"My dear Jerry. I don't need to lug you along. I've found my way this far and it's a pity if I can't ride another 50 miles or so."
It was on the tip of Jerry's tongue to tell Lester that the road was both difficult and dangerous, in which case Lester would certainly insist on going alone and Jerry would be rid of him. But whatever he thought about Lester, Jerry was still fond of Joan. For her sake he would do his best for his cousin. What he actually said was this:
"Of course you can go alone, but I thought you might like company, and it would be a treat to me to get away from this place for a few days."
"I hadn't thought of it that way," Lester admitted, "but if you really care to come I'll be glad to have you."
"I'll come, then," Jerry said quietly. "Now let's put up your mule and see about supper."
JERRY did not sleep much that night. This visit from Lester had brought back the old trouble which he had begun to forget. He had never been actually engaged to Joan Walford, but they two had done everything together for nearly a year. Then Lester appeared. Lester had money, he was good-looking, he talked well, dressed well, and he took Joan away from Jerry with hardly an effort. How Jerry had hated him!
"And I still hate him," muttered Jerry as he listened to Lester's quiet breathing. Towards dawn he slept—and did not wake until Juan, his house-boy, brought the morning coffee.
FOUR days later, an hour before sunset, the two came suddenly out of dense forest on to a ridge with a valley beneath. Jerry pulled up his mule, and pointed to three blunt hills opposite.
"Tres Alamos," he said. Lester frowned as he gazed down into the valley.
"A queer place," he muttered and shivered slightly.
It was queer. The deep basin below was walled with jagged cliffs of a dull red hue. At the upper end these cliffs were gashed by a narrow cleft through which a small river burst. Winding in wide curves through the grassy flat, it filled a pool in the centre, then broke out through a second gorge and fell roaring sullenly to the swamp forest far below. Close above the pool stood a long, white-washed building. The rays of the low sun turned the water of the pool almost to the colour of blood and the crimson light was reflected on the white walls of the house. Not a breath of air stirred, and the silence was broken only by the hoarse sound of falling water.
The two rode down a winding track, and presently their tired mules carried them up the slope towards the house. The front door was closed, slat blinds covered the windows.
"Looks as if it was empty." Lester said, "but I was told I should find Julio Arana, the manager here." The words were hardly out of his mouth before a piercing scream rent the air. It came from somewhere at the back of the house. In a flash Jerry was out of the saddle and running round. Lester followed.
A high stone wall surrounded a square yard. At the back was an open gate. As Jerry dashed through the scream sounded again, it came from the throat of a small brown man spread-eagled on a sort of whipping post. A stocky Indian was thrashing him with a whip of plaited hide, while a heavily-built Portuguese counted each stroke with cruel deliberation. The brown man's back was a hideous sight. Lester Maine rushed ahead of Jerry. Fury and disgust were in the cry he gave. The Portuguese turned quickly. For a moment he looked ugly, then in a flash his scowl changed to pleased surprise.
"The Seņor Maine," he said cordially.
"I am Maine," said Lester curtly.
"I am very pleased to see you," said the other in excellent English, "but sorry you should find me engaged in so unpleasant a task. This fellow, Tomaso, was caught stealing. It is not the first time, and I had to make an example
"Example!" repeated Lester harshly. "You are murdering him."
"Indeed, no. These fellows can stand punishment as no white man can. Yet in deference to your feelings I will remit the rest." He spoke to the Indian, who released the wretched Tomaso and led him away.
"This is my cousin, the Seņor Ames," Lester said stiffly. "You know our business, Seņor Arana."
"Indeed yes, and I am very happy to see you."
Arana's courtesy was perfect. He took the cousins into the house, showed them bedrooms, had their saddle bags carried in, and told them supper would be ready shortly. Supper was excellent and Arana so good a host that his two guests began to forget their first bad impression. They were both tired. Arana saw it and suggested bed.
"You will have a busy morning to-morrow," he said with a smile, "for the first thing I have to do is to take you over the mine."
JERRY had never been in a gold mine. It struck him as an extremely unpleasant place. He sweated as he crawled through low-roofed galleries and was half suffocated by the smoke of stinking tallow dips. When they at last came out Arana turned to Lester.
"The main lode, as you have seen, is faulted. I thought it only right to show you."
"Thank you," Lester answered. "Yet at the price I think well of it. I have decided to buy."
Did a flicker of anger show in Arana's dark eyes? Jerry thought so, yet could not be sure.
"You are of course the best judge," was what Arana said. Then he smiled. "We are tired and muddy. Would you like a bathe before luncheon?" Lester brightened.
"A good idea," he declared.
"Then I will get towels," said Arana, and went into the house. Jerry frowned.
"First Brazilian I ever met who cared to bathe in the open," he said. Before Lester could reply, Arana was back.
"We go to the big pool," he said. "It is beautifully cool, and the water deep up to the banks."
"No crocodiles?" asked Lester.
"Indeed—no! They could not get up the falls. A few leeches, perhaps—but nothing worse."
THE pool lay like a black mirror under its steep banks. Huge trees threw a pleasant shade, and gaudy dragon flies, green and crimson, flashed across its calm surface. The three men flung off their clothes, and as Arana stood up, Jerry noticed what a fine figure he presented. A bit fat, perhaps, yet his muscles were tremendous. Arana strolled to the edge of the pool, followed by Lester. Arana stood courteously aside.
"You first, Seņor. I will follow"
"Thanks!" said Lester, and stepped forward. He had raised his hands, prepared to dive, when there came a rush of feet behind, and a startled shout from Jerry. As Lester turned, he saw Arana driven out over the bank as if by the blow of a battering ram. Next instant a pair of arms closed round his waist.
"Back, Seņor! Back, if you value your life!"
Arana crashed into the pool. He sank out of sight. Then as his head appeared above the surface, he screamed terribly, and beat the water with his hands.
"Let me go!" roared Lester, struggling furiously in Tomaso's grasp. "Let me go, curse you!" He would have torn loose had not Jerry too seized him. Tomaso was panting out words.
"No, no—it is death! The pirai have him. It was you he meant should feed them, but he has fallen into his own trap. See—see for yourself." Releasing Lester, he pointed to the pool.
Lester gasped with horror. The water around Arana was alive with fish—fish with jaws like bulldogs and teeth like razors. They were attacking Arana with incredible ferocity, literally tearing the flesh from his bones. Blood poured from a hundred wounds. It was a sight to make a strong man sick. Lester snatched up a fallen branch and thrust it out.
"Catch hold" he cried. Arana gripped it, but even as he did so his strength failed his hands slipped away, and he sank beneath the blood-stained water.
"This is awful!" Lester groaned. He swung round on Tomaso.
"Do you tell me he knew those brutes were waiting?" he demanded fiercely. All his superciliousness had vanished. He was a prey to violent emotion.
"Seņor," said Tomaso, and the man spoke with a certain dignity. "He not only knew, but he has been feeding the pirai with raw meat for many days past."
"Why did you not warn me?" Lester asked harshly. Tomaso shrugged.
"What would have been the use? You would only have died in some other way, and I—I should have died under the lash from which you saved me yesterday."
"It's the truth," said Jerry quietly.
"But why—why did the man desire to murder me?" questioned Lester. Tomaso told him.
"It was the mine, Seņor. He desired it for himself." Lester's eyes widened.
"Then why didn't he buy it? After all, it's not great bargain. There'll be a deal of development needed before it pays." Tomaso shook his head.
"There is a great fortune here, Seņor. Three months ago Arana discovered a new lode."
"I heard nothing of that."
"You would not," replied the brown-skinned man. "And anyone who told you would have suffered a like death to that which Arana planned for yourself." Lester drew a long breath. He spoke to his cousin.
"Jerry, it looks to me as if I'd got a lot to be thankful for. And I owe it to Tomaso and you."
"Tomaso turned the trick," said Jerry with a smile. "I had nothing to do with it"
"But you had," Lester answered quickly. "You came with me." He paused, then went on quickly. "Oh, I'm not quite a fool, Jerry. I know darn well you didn't want to come, and that you only did it because Joan asked you. If I'd come here alone I'd have been scuppered to a certainty. Now what are we going to do about it?"
"Go and have a look at the new vein," said Jerry with calm common sense.
"Tomaso here can show us, I've no doubt."
TOMASO could and did show the vein which Arana had carefully hidden. A brief inspection proved to Lester that he had indeed secured a fortune. He was very solemn when he came out.
"Jerry," he said presently. "Are you tied to that coffee business?"
"Why—not that I know of," replied Jerry in some surprise. "A month's notice is all that's needed.
"Then give it and come here. I want you to manage this show for me."
"But I don't know a thing about it," said Jerry.
"What's that matter? You can learn. And, with Tomaso as foreman, you can get along. Let's say a thousand a year and a tenth of the profits." Jerry was silent a moment, then he turned to his cousin and offered his hand.
"It's a go, old man," he said cheerfully.
Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
Go to Home Page
This work is out of copyright in countries with a copyright
period of 70 years or less, after the year of the author's death.
If it is under copyright in your country of residence,
do not download or redistribute this file.
Original content added by RGL (e.g., introductions, notes,
RGL covers) is proprietary and protected by copyright.