Adventure Magazine Cover — page 183: what you’re looking at

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

The Mahogany Garden Haskell stared hard at the stern features illuminated by the glow of the twig fire. The snores of Juan, already asleep, forgetful of the day’s danger and bloodshed, were the only sounds for a minute. “T am not a thief, amigo. The men who sent me are not thieves. We pay the right- ful owners their own price for what we take, or we do not take it. We have paid Calderon y Ortegas much money and will pay very much more.” The old man seemed about to speak, but checked himself and, after gazing at the fire a moment, sadly said: “The words of Nufiez Paola have been spoken. They are true and shall stand!”’ Then he bowed himself by the fire, draw- ing one arm under him across his abdomen, and was soon asleep. CHAPTER VII TWO AMERICANS SHAKE HANDS T DAYBREAK the trio was astir and, though weak from lack of food, pushed on through the dense growth. When he was not watching the marvelous woodcraft of the old man in places that seemed impass- able, Haskell was studying the trees about him—mahogany, dyewood, the several hard gum-bearing trees, the tropical cousins of the oak and the beech—hundreds of mill- ions of feet of lumber, millions of dollars’ worth of wealth. At last, toward noon, the way before them began to lighten, and they emerged at the edge of the tract which the American had seen from the tree the day before. It was a dried salt marsh with a most peculiar consistency of soil, the very material that under former conditions would have been turned into bituminous coal. It was free from creeping vines but rich in timber, espe- cially in mahogany and dyewood. Around the edge was a path that was traveled with some frequency apparently, and in the mid- dle of the afternoon they came within sound of the sea. Passing over a hummock of rotten trap at one point, Haskell used the elevation to survey the marsh, and he saw what was the occasion for its peculiar nature. It was lower than the mean sea-level, and in the rainy season would turn into a fresh lake which would force a channel through the sand ridge that separated it from the sea. 747 The tide, invading the marsh, would make it salt until such time as the wind and waves would pack the channel with sand and débris in the beginning of the dry season, and the sun would dry up the enclosure for the six months to follow. When he had determined this he begged for a halt, and, taking an observation, figured out the posi- tion and compared it with his maps. This thirty square miles of sublevel timber land was part of his huge task. He felt his heart tighten within him. When they reached the beach their guide turned northward, and after about two miles of tramping over the dunes they came to a cove in which an Indian fishing village nestled, embowered in palms and plantains. Within the bar rode a half-dozen fishing- boats, of the size in which the daring natives go to sea hundreds of miles. As they neared the hamlet they were descried by a swarm of naked children who ran like young par- tridges. Haskell was deeply absorbed in some new plans and left Juan and Nufiez Paola to make all arrangements with the villagers who gathered to see the strangers. He came to with a start just as they were entering the wattle-work hut that was to shelter them. “Haskell! For heaven’s sake! Haskell!” On a rude settee reclined the figure of a pale, fever-burnt young man, his neglected beard and matted hair giving his face the look of one insane. The engineer turned and stood staring at the unknown under the cozba before the door. “IT don’t expect you to know me, old chap. I’m Jack Peters!” In an instant Haskell was grasping the thin extended hand. ‘Honestly I feel as if I were talking to a dead man! Great guns, boy! how did you get here? What does this mean?”’ Then Jack told him the story of which he already had glimmerings. He had reached the hacienda only three days before Haskell, having come by a different route, and when he told Don Felipe his mission, the haczen- dado had laughed and refused to credit him. Jack had shown him the papers which the brother had signed in New York and Don Felipe had gone into a terrific rage. He declared that his brother had had no right to dispose of the timber-rights—that they were the joint property of the whole family. Peters, however, was in possession of the search papers obtained from Merida, which showed that the brother was the sole COMMCMOOCKKS. EGO