Adventure Magazine Cover, June 20, 1925 — page 173: what you’re looking at

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

‘‘_-and of Gideon!’ slave by Macombe for over twenty years. He told a funny story: He spoke a lot of his four wives; they. must have led him a life of—he kept looking over his shoulder as if afraid they were coming after him.” D’Andra laughed. “Yes—a funny story,” he continued. “Specially the part about his escape. It’s too long to tell you now. But he got very violent. toward the end. He demanded that I give him an outrageous sum of money— threatening to tell every one how my father had played the part of a coward twenty years ago. As if any one cares! I could laugh at that—I felt sorry for the poor ’ Imagine, Gonzales! Four wives—and one so fat that she could not walk but had to be carried from her hut and placed in the sun every day. He said she wore the con- cession in the lobe of her ear. Poor ! For twenty years he looked at wealth and a mountain of fat. I felt sorry for him un- til he threw that filthy thing—” D’Andra indicated the parchment Gonzales was still holding—*at me. Then I was forced to call two orderlies and have him ejected. He fought—but they were too strong for him and he was very old. And so——” D’Andra brushed the palms of his hands lightly together. “Where is this Ferdinand de Sousa now?” “He is probably burning in company with my father,” D’Andra said lightly. “The struggle with my orderlies was too much for him. He died, noisily, just out- side the door.” Gonzales looked curiously at D’Andra. “Ts that a pose,” he muttered. “Or are you really as callous as that sounds. If you are—”’ his eyes narrowed to small slits— “T have great hopes for you.” “Never mind that,’ D’Andra said impa- tiently. ‘Tell me—is that concession worth anything?” “Tt 1s worth everything—worth all that it says—if we can get the British to honor it. It is properly signed, witnessed and en- dorsed. True, the white men who nego- tiated it are all dead—but they did not act for themselves but for the crown, and that never dies. Probably, too, many of the headmen who made their marks here are dead. But that does not matter. Neither does it matter that the Jesuit priest who en- dorsed it is dead. “That is a matter for congratulation, for he. signed the endorsement just before he T9595 died, believing that he was signing a letter he had dictated to your father. But his signature is unmistakable; no one will dare to challenge it.” | “Then there is nothing to stop us from annexing the country,” D’Andra cried ex- ultantly. Gonzales shook his head doubtfully. “It is not as easy as that,” he said. ‘‘Fif- teen years ago—even ten years ago—we would only have had to produce this—” he tapped the parchment—“and take posses- sion. But now—it will be very difficult; maybe impossible. The British will not give up Macombe’s so easily. Its adminis-. tration by another power would mean re- moving Rhodesia still further from a sea- port. “As soon as they hear of this they’ll try to prove it a forgery—and it is, inasmuch as the priest did not know what he was signing; - and, of course, Macombe didn’t. They won’t be able to prove a forgery but they’ll immediately get Macombe to appeal to them for protection. Remember — they have his ear; they have been on friendly terms with him for many years and our Government is not exactly popular with the natives. Also, the British are, in a sense, in possession and our Government dare not risk coming to an open rupture with them ai | | “But international law—’” D’Andra be- gan. Gonzales sneered. “Possession is nine points of that. Vou forget that the Big Powers make interna- tional laws—we smaller nations obey them. No! Itis a wild dream: For a moment I considered it possible. But, after all, that—”’ he tossed the parchment down on the desk—“is only interesting as a curio, that’s all!” | D’Andra smiled. “For a man who has the reputation of being the cunningest ivory poacher and dealer in black ivory in the country, you are singularly dense. You are unable to make use of the opportunities which present them- selves. Do you think that I mean to pub- lish this concession until I have taken pos- session? Not so. When you leave for Ma- combe’s country tomorrow morning, I shall go with you—you must arrange that for me with the Governor; it shall be said that I have gone on a hunting trip; that you are taking me to—er—make a man of me. COMIGDIOOKSEEO