Adventure, December 3, 1920 — page 86: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

76 swift current swept us around a bend and we saw them no more. It was not until we reached the headquarters of our old coronel, several days later, that we learned what was in that package given by the chief in parting. The coronel gave us all a warm welcome, made Senhor Locke and his bride at home in his house, and hastily presented the Golden One with some civilized clothing left . there by his daughter Flora, who was at school far away in Rio. Then, as we all sat talking by the lamp-light, Senhor Locke opened the bundle and looked over several things it con- tained. “The chief said,” he told us, “that he found these things at the time when the Golden One came to him on the back of the golden turtle. That means, of course, that he found her daddy’s body—or what was left of it—and took this stuff from it. Seems to be mostly junk. Guess this black note-book will give us the best tip.” He ran through it while we talked of other things. Suddenly he whistled. “Ve gods and little horned-toads! Mary girl, your father was ‘Red Jim’ McMurray! “He was a big mining man—lI’ve heard of him. When he was away past forty he married a young doll who had roped him in for his money. She made life miserable for him. Finally he disappeared, taking his little daughter ¥ NEVER let sentiment interfere with business.” It was the fat man in the seat ahead, heavily gold-chained as to chest and diamonded as to finger, who had said it pompously and oracularly to his chinless companion of the side-whiskers The methodi- Adventure and leaving a note saying he was going to a place where he’d never see another white woman as long as he lived. And he sure did! “He fixed his will, too, as I remember it, so that if he should be declared legally dead his wife wouldn’t get his money, and’she fought like a wildcat to bust that will. Before the case could be settled she got killed in an automobile smash. And you’re little Mary McMurray— Oh rats! You don’t understand a word I’m saying!” But she did know a few words, senhores. She smiled brightly and said: “Baby Mary! Mary wants horsie.” “Tf reckon you can have several horsies,” laughed the Tucandeira. ‘‘And you’re going to live out in the big country where the horsies grow, too. You’d perish in a city, surrounded by a lot of jealous, supercilious cats.” “Then you are not going to poke into the other rivers along the Amazon and seek trouble there, senhor?”’ asked Pedro. “Nope. Not now. I fancy I’ve found trouble enough to keep me busy for a while. I’ve got to teach my Mary girl how to talk and eat with a fork and wear clothes and ride horsies and— and everything. Yep, your old pal the Tu- candeira has bitten off a man-sized mouthful, Ill say. Coronel, how soon can we catch the bally boat for the States?” cal Sam Thorne didn’t know either of them, wasn’t interested in either and didn’t hear the chinless one’s rejoinder, which he assumed was duly accordant. Yet that trite and callous bit _of philosophy was running in his head when he left the train at Lyndholm. Huh! He didn’t believe it could be done, CORNICLOO© (C@)