Part 28 (1/2)

”Why, Mr. Barr, what are you doing here?” he exclaimed amazedly.

But if the boys seemed astonished Mr. Barr retained his usual icicle-like att.i.tude. Except that he was dressed in tropical white and wore a huge pith helmet which set above his ill-favored features ”like a mushroom over a toad,” as Billy described it later, he might have just stepped out of his office on Wall Street, instead of from a wheezy launch on a steaming subequatorial river.

”Good-evening, boys, a little late for dinner, I see, but I daresay you can cook me something. After dinner I want to talk to you. I have come a long way for the purpose so you can guess my business is of importance.”

”Of importance? I should say so;” sputtered the irrepressible Billy. ”Pray did you come by air-s.h.i.+p, Mr. Barr?”

”No, sir, I came in my yacht the Brigand. She is almost as fast as a liner and as I came direct to this port I didn't take more than half the time occupied by you boys on the voyage.”

”You had a good trip?” asked Frank as Mr. Barr sat down and began eating the hastily prepared meal which Ben served him.

”Yes, splendid;” said Mr. Barr, ”we had one misfortune though. When we were two days out my captain--a splendid man, boys--slipped on the wet foredeck as the yacht was plowing through a heavy sea and struck on his head on a stanchion.”

”I hope he was not badly hurt,” said Frank.

”He is dead,” said Mr. Barr, calmly stuffing half a sweet potato into his capacious mouth.

The boys gave an exclamation of concern.

”Yes, it was very annoying,” commented Mr. Barr.

”You see I have had to trust since to the navigation of my mate, and while he is a careful fellow he is not much good as a navigator, and in addition to that he is a drinking man. I am afraid that he may be ash.o.r.e now in my absence and indulging his taste for strong drink.”

”I should have thought you would have forbidden him sh.o.r.e leave,”

commented Harry.

”No good, my dear boy, that fellow would swim ash.o.r.e even if the harbor were swarming with sharks, to gratify his disgusting taste.”

”But now,” he continued with a change of tone, ”to business. You have got the ivory?

”We have,” replied Frank.

”Where?”

”We have it here,” was the quiet rejoinder.

”What!” an amazed tone.

”What I tell you is true,” and Frank-foolishly as he admitted afterward-led the way to the cache in the forest; ”it is buried here so as to be safe from marauders.”

Mr. Barr seemed lost in thought for a few minutes then he suggested a return to the camp-fire. Once there he drew out a paper from his pocket-book.

”Many things have happened since you left New York, boys,” he said quietly, through a feverish gleam in his deep, crafty eyes belied his outward calm.

”This paper,” he continued, holding it out, ”is signed by Mr.

Beasley, it resigns to me all claim in the ivory and I am here to take it.”'

”Let me look at that paper.”