Tiberius Smith/Chapter 11
XI
A CORNER IN AMALGAMATED DOG
"IT'S a hoarse hoot from El Paso to South America; but did you ever see a pink whale playing with a ball of yarn? Well, that's the answer. Tib was about as graceful as that fettlesome fish in trying to explain to the big-gun how he happened to leave the show across the line and why he did not care to frolic back and reclaim it. Naturally we were at once released from all earthly ties, so far as the circus boss was concerned, and after squeezing out car-fares for the four orphans we sauntered along to New Orleans, where we met young Santos. He was of Portuguese extraction, and his pater, we learned, was one of the head business sharps in Brazil. The more he came to know Tib the more he insisted the old chap should hie home with him and cut up in a commercial way.
"Finally my patron agreed, all our expenses being paid. Young Santos, it seemed, needed a man tinged with sanity and a git-up-and-git quality of mind to ramble up to Cavinas and obtain rubber concessions along the Beni and Mamore rivers. He and his pa were too well known as big traders to drive profitable bargains, he explained, but he figured that a brace of comely Americanos, fondly expected to die at any moment of malaria, could work many an economical riffle. The possibilities in rubber were vast, he purred, and for every caoutchouc-tree snared, Tib and I were to receive one-fifth of the profits.
"So we left the amiable States in his dark-complexioned company, little recking of the Purple Friday in store for us, and little appreciating that the simple, man-eating speculators on the Beni were yelping along a bourse as yet not awakened into activity. Our first stop was at Para, where we met the old man Santos, and with him went over the whole game.
"It didn't look very good to me after I'd learned the Beni is nine hundred miles long and navigable for half its length, but Santos had a tip the Bolivian government intended chasing along the rivers with narrow-gauge, baby railroads, and he exploded in a set-piece of verbal pyrotechnics that concessions salted now would soon see us all ennuied with gold.
"‘We for the Bolivianos, Billy,' sparkled Tib, his rotund form expanding. 'We'll garn the bough while the rubber fruit is ripe. Santos says he'll loan us his body-servant, Wogo; which being translated from his ancestral Incan tongue means "the Bug," I believe. He'll be our flute-voiced interpreter. Besides," and the old chap looked pesky self-sufficient, 'you know my simple mind is vaguely freckled with a knowledge of the Spanish jargon these unfettered children toy with. Why perturb, my boy? In a trice I'll deposit you on the Broad White Way with a thirty-three-week engagement to lunch on.'
"I insisted we didn't know a caoutchouc-tree from an isosceles triangle, and were intended by nature for the ten, twenty, thirty houses only, and that it would be but a pastime for some pellucid-eyed gazelle in a bark shirt to unload a grove of Southern pine on us.
"‘In these adulterated days,' he defended, 'no one knows the real article. If my stout stick rebounds when I chastise a tree, it's rubber. If it doesn't, we'll laugh derisively and pass on.'
"It was with this chaotic assortment of knowledge, sir, that we ultimately turned our narrow pagais into the little-known and shivery Beni, a short distance above Villa Bella, where the Bolivia boundary-line on the maps shades into a rich green.
"For several days Wogo had acted peevish. He had believed we were to eschew the Beni and run up to the Mamore missions. And when Tib insisted the real plums grew in the wildwood and ordered the rowers to right-wheel, the Bug breathed a prayer to the river-god, swore he was a Christian, and in a lugubrious chant told how the ha-ha of merry laughter had been lost in the shuffle for us, for all time. Our rowers, five brawny Moxos, as brave as lions when facing nothing larger than a messenger-boy, also lost a modicum of their interest, and on the first night after we dodged the Marmore aimlessly wandered away, not forgetting to take one of the boats.
"Wogo barked in despair when, on the morrow, Tib seized a paddle, passed a chaste resolution on the future of the deserters, and turned the remaining prow up-stream, while I recited 'Excelsior.' The Bug didn't care to leave us and encounter Santos's displeasure, but to cheer us on our way he recited unwholesome tales about the people of that section. They were the Caripuna Indians, crude hunter-folk, he babbled. He said their name meant 'Watermen,' and that for amiability the average alligator had them blushing over their deficit. I shuddered in private, but Tib laughed and promised the first palm-roofed malocca should see us gayly and safely bartering with the aborigines.
"‘It will remind you, Billy, of pictures of William Penn shaking down the natives under the Charter Oak,' he bubbled.
"But as the first streak of the gray morning revealed streamers of white mist to our sleepy eyes, we found the Caripunas had silently invaded our resting-place and in a ghostly circle were politely waiting for us to awaken.
"‘We've arrived,' I gasped, hysterically, clambering out of my poncho and scanning the stalwart forms with regret.
"‘Then we'll trade,' declared Tib, stepping jauntily forward.
"But as he extended the palm of friendship and cocked his ears to hear some jolly Massoit cough out a welcome, his arms were seized and deftly whipped behind his back. Then did Wogo, the Bug, pour forth his freshly laundered soul in a pæan of farewell. It annoyed me to note the absolute conviction in his voice as he revealed in promises to his departed sires that he soon would be with them on the golden shore and was bringing along two white señors.
"‘Don't resist, Billy,' cried Tib. 'It's just their way, I guess.'
"‘I won't hurt 'em,' I agreed, as they slipped a rawhide about my slender wrists.
"The haft of a spear, pressed firmly across my lips, discouraged further speech until we had stumbled a mile through calisayas and giant cedars and halted in what I took to be a permanent village. Here we were regaled on some pira-rucu, a huge fish disgusting to my pampered palate whether eaten fresh or salted. The meal nervously concluded, I managed to whisper to the chattel, 'What next, Bug?'
"‘Eat us like rucu,' he encouraged, the gray tints accumulating to a handsome majority in his face.
"‘Hope they choke,' growled Tib. Then, austerely, to the oldest ruffian, whom we took to be the mayor, 'I say, Massoit, what is?'
"Wogo butted in between a shiver and a shudder and played ping-pong with the talk. Then his lower jaw hung loosely in the breeze as he turned to us and assured, 'Si, señors. Eat us much like pira-rucu.'
"‘But tell 'em we've come to trade,' expostulated Tib.
"‘He asks what you got,' trembled Wogo.
"And as the chief laughed coarsely over this ironical query, and playfully kicked a tame tapir through the fire to evidence his appetite, Tib and I exchanged blank glances, and my patron screwed up his lips in perplexity.
"‘They'll never eat a blond, a cheap-haired blond, like you, Billy,' he mumbled, as they crowded us into a malocca.
"‘I don't blame you, old man,' I whispered. 'But if it only could have come in an accident, or a long, lingering illness—'
"‘Let's cogitate,' he broke in, brusquely, sinking down beside a bark parrot-cage.
"‘When—when is the event to be pulled off, Bug?' I choked.
"He paused in making the high sign of despair, and muttered, 'Dam to-morrow.'
"‘Quit that profanity, or I'll hammer ye,' cried Tib. Then, more gently, 'Why do they wait till to-morrow. Dusky One?'
"With a wealth of incoherence the Bug explained the Caripunas, like almost all aborigines and Wall Street denizens, were great gamblers, and were now shaking a few dice, or cutting the book, or tossing pennies, to decide into what family we were to be adopted.
"‘I'll never shake for the cigars again, Tib,' I moaned. 'I know just how the cigar feels.'
"‘Quiet, child,' he returned, 'I'm thinking. Gamblers, eh? Streaked all through their blood, eh?'
"Then, with face illumined, he cried, 'Billy, what does this remind you of?' and he shook the small, empty cage aloft.
"‘Nothing,' says I.
"‘Then you are unworthy to be my follower and to be eaten in good company,' he chided.
"I had no heart for this strain of talk and glided into a reverie without replying, and was only dimly conscious that the old chap was mildly cursing Wogo, who was at the entrance of the hut trying to talk in hybrid Spanish to the Nestor of our captors, that the Bug was reluctantly chipping in, and that the confab was quite prolix. Then I sat up and began to notice things. For Tib was crying:
"‘What does the ribbon say, gents? Why, it says the chief has won this lead-pencil. Allow me.' And, hang me, sir, if he didn't pass over something to Pooh-Bah. 'Now again we shake the magic box, and who wins? Why, this sweet-faced, toothless woman, a wife of our host. A genuine seal-skin pocket-book to you, madame. And yet again, and lo! this young scion of indigo nobility gets a penknife.' And through it all he was shaking the parrot-cage and reading results from the same.
"Well, sir, it caught the mob. The old chief was there to remain a fixture so long as he could receive honoraria, and to cap the finale, Tib gravely removed a spear from a petrified private's hand and gave that to the boss. You see, they couldn't understand his jabber, except as Wogo, three yards behind, tried to deal it out, but they did appreciate the old parrot-cage was cutting up Ned with their possessions, and they were curious to learn more.
"Then in his crippled Spanish, aided and abetted by the Bug, the old chap told them a lot of truths and rattled the cage incessantly. As he finished and bowed gravely, as if dismissing them, a low chorus of amazed grunts ran around the chocolate circle.
"‘Git up!' hissed Tib, as he returned to me. 'Can't you see this is a stock-exchange ticker? Ain't I just taught 'em it is heavy with the germs of chance? Now what is this?' And he tore a roll of bark into a narrow ribbon and placed it in the cage. 'Well, young man, this is the tape. It unrolls. B-r-r-r. Click! click! Tiberius Smith closes firm. Big demand for William Campbell common. Total sales—'
"‘You're crazy!' I cried, in horror.
"‘So is every speculator,' he returned, heavily. 'Lemme take your pencil. The chief drew mine as a prize.'
"Then what did that blessed idiot do but begin to kill the scanty minutes by drawing pictures on the bark. 'What's this one look like?' he demanded, indicating a lame duck learning to ride a bicycle. My reply incensed him, and he swore it was a dog.
"‘Poor devil! What of it?' I asked, dully.
"‘It's more'n a dog,' he cried, triumphantly. 'It's a symbol. It's a quotation.'
"I turned away dizzily and bowed my head. I'd tagged Tib around all over the globe from a nursling up, and had stubbed against many mutual and disheartening propositions. But the pitcher goes once too often to the well. While the cat's away the mice will gather no—
"‘Hustle out of that stupor, quick,' cried Tib, 'and make me a sheet.' And he aroused me with a hearty thump. 'You say I'm crude with the pencil, and I'll admit you are superfine. Now sketch me as neatly as possible a bow-wow, a lizard, the tooth of a water-pig, and a parrot on this strip of bark. Have 'em about a foot apart.'
"‘Why?' I gasped, grasping the pencil mechanically.
"‘Because you are now in the Tiberius Smith & Robbers' Exchange, and I'm the boss,' he thundered.
"Then, brandishing the cage, he cried: 'Can't you appreciate this is a ticker? This bark is the tape, and I'm going to give these children of evil the only real stock-exchange dope ever retailed on the Beni. Motto: In the name of American manhood live frugally, for we promoters want all the rest. We must bucket-shop our way to freedom, in other words.' Then, gliding into an excess of exhilaration, he shouted: 'What, ho, Wogo, surnamed the Bug! How goes it on the bourse '
"‘Of course we 're all crazy,' I conceded, the fever waltzing through my veins as I sketched four-footed and other junk in my best style. 'But what do you eat to get it? Let me in, old chap, so I can be happy, too.'
"‘Not a second to lose,' he whispered, in the old stage voice so replete with assurance. 'I've promised quotations. They don't know what a pencil is. Your photos will stun 'em. That pup with the broken eye will sweep 'em off their feet. Now absorb for the last time. I managed to promise the Big Brown Father that this ticker, he calls it the magic box, would tell each day how much their furniture is worth. It was a big gamble, but I told it and yet live. I talked into the cage and it gave him presents. With foolish fondness he thinks some jovial little god sits in there aching to deal him more. When they see the tape and recognize the pictures they'll mortgage the old home and bet their grandparents on what's coming next. I make under each stock a certain number of straight marks. They can't count over twenty, and their unit of value is the sweet-smelling turtle-shell. I've explained to 'em in my exclusive patois, reinforced by Wogo's nervous tongue, that the tape, the magic ribbon, is about to tell 'em to-day what their stuff is worth. See, I put ten marks under your pup, which means he is worth that number of turtle-shells. D'ye suppose they can resist betting against the morrow's quotations? Hark! They're sweeping onto the floor of the market. I'll add the baseball scores in another week, if we're alive.'
"And bless you, sir! What does that old rascal do but prance to the door with the parrot-cage under his arm. And the style of him, as he puffed out his cheeks and brushed back the too-curious, would have done you a world of good. His aplomb was simply cold storage as he began pulling out the tape and even tried to emulate the dot and dash of the real clicker.
"‘Something doing in Dry Lizard Preferred, boys,' he began, in a deep, pool-room bass. 'It opens heartily at three.' And he allowed them to peep at the tape and admire my very best lizard.
"Evidently they had never conceived of a picture before, and they jabbered in astonisment and their eyes sparkled as they observed the selling-price. In a second the gamble lust peeped from their eyes, and I could see they were instinctively resolving themselves into bulls and bears.
"‘B-r-r-r,' purred Tib, as he unrolled more bark bosh. 'Here we have Water-Pig's Tooth Consolidated going at two. Click! click! Stand back to receive the latest in Amalgamated Dog. As I live, it's up to ten, with the price still climbing.'
"Well, sir, you'd never believe those innocents would twig so quickly. I reckon that simple exhibition changed their whole lives. Eating an adjacent tribe lost its savor. They knew the values would fluctuate daily, and each beetle-browed capitalist sneaked aside to plan a raid on his neighbor's pet stock. Talk about frenzied finance and the wolf gnawing at the cottage door! Why, those Caripunas were wizards at the go-in, and the old chief was the biggest sport in the outfit.
"‘We must let John W. G. win,' I whispered, after the crowd had retired, each to count his dogs and lizards.
"‘Never,' says Tib, firmly.
"‘But he holds the high justice and the low,' I remonstrated, as he fed me fresh bark. 'He is the chief.'
"‘Therefore must be kept on the frayed edge of uncertainty,' whispered Tib. 'He 'll keep us healthy so he may recoup his losses. But if he ever makes a ten-strike he'll cut us off behind the ears to cinch his gains. Draw a heap of pictures, and I'll slip in the values as proportion seems to demand,' he added, drowsily. 'It 'll be a hard day to-morrow and heavy trading.'
"By the dim light of a smoking fire I sketched animals half the night, and had the cage loaded to the muzzle when I climbed into my hammock. It seemed rather low down to tap the wires and gull the speculators, but, as Tib said, we must hold the balance of power, and feeling crooked I went to sleep.
"We had hardly finished our savory rucu when a great clamor told us the game was on, and setting his jaw to the last notch the proprietor of the Tiberius Smith & Robbers' Exchange toted the precious ticker to the door and threw out his chest.
"It was a gallant scene to see the mob crowding about and anxiously waiting. The first shot was just a tease for John G., as we now familiarly dubbed the chief, and he danced a sprightly can-can of joy as Tib cried out, 'Dry Lizard Preferred goes up to nine,' and tore off the tape and tossed it to the mob.
"A low croon of sorrow decorated the wake of a young margin player as he sadly carried an armful of losses and dumped them, barking, crawling, and snapping, at the feet of the plunger.
"‘Puts John in good fettle,' chuckled Tib, and as if in answer, John bellowed loudly something that sounded like 'Skowhegan—New Jersey.'
"‘All right, John. Cheer up. The worst is yet to come. Water-Pig's Tooth Consolidated drops to a song,' yelled Tib; and I grinned as the man who patted me with his spear gave a groan and sold his summer stock of beans to keep afloat.
"Dear, dear! I never would have believed the spirit of the thing would get so thickly into Tib's bones. He acted as if he'd like to take a flyer himself. By this time we had a mental inventory of every pup and turtle-shell in the street, and could give a man's rating to a tooth.
"‘I'm going to have a circuit taking in all the tribes on the Beni,' panted Tib, as he fussed with the tape. 'We'll hitch on rubber and clean up the whole busy mart.'
"‘I'll be satisfied with my scalp,' I reminded.
"‘I'll get you incorporated, and they won't dare—Hullo! John is short on Parrots Limited, as I live! It's time to rasp him, I guess. First half of the second, boys, and two men out. Parrots Limited walks to eight.'
"A wild roar from the chief as he dragged his nervous orbs over the bark terminated with his hurling a spear at Wogo. Mercy! but wasn't Tib angry! He waltzed forth and told John all about himself in a manner that would make a canal mule dimple in pleasure. The chief bleated back and Wogo shivered in and explained, 'The Big One would know, señor, why he loses.'
"‘Tell 'em all,' thundered Tib, 'that this is a brace game and we play no favorites.'
"I don't know in what version his proclamation arrived, but it seemed to please the rank and file, and in thirty seconds the mob had bet our wild-eyed mortgagee to a stand-still.
"Then, as a bit of diplomacy, Tib announced that seats in the exchange cost two dogs per, payable to the chief, and John gradually smiled and said something about the 'Wabash-going-turnips-Monday,' and promised to brain the speculator who failed to pay up instanter. But to drag rock-salt across the raw grain, Tib next proclaimed:
"‘Amalgamated Dog slides to eight.'
"And the dogs, still warm from the chief's proprietary kicks, were turned back to their former owners, plus several more. And I was now firmly convinced we were through our little experience.
"‘Why did you? How dared you?' I murmured, as the chief struggled to get at us.
"‘He must be taught not to welch. I want him to feel to-night, when eating baked pup, as if he was bolting a government bond,' returned Tib, grimly, but holding the tape so he could shift it to a life-saving figure if necessary. 'There! He's calming down. The tall, sparsely clothed man has quieted him. It's his brother, Wogo says. He's the original Henry H. R. of the ring. He's been scalping a few pints of beans and an odd dog or so on every turn this morning. Watch him. He's more dangerous than the bluff, quick-tempered John. He just loaned a minor a dog to put up in margins and has collected a pup as interest. Hm! Let's see. What's his rating?'
"‘He's got pig's teeth by the bushel,' I whispered.
"‘Ha! Already, gents. Something stirring in Tooth Consolidated. Now watch the tight-wad, Billy.' And the bit of bark he tossed them whip-sawed Henry into bankruptcy.
"Well, well, you never saw a man so amazed. He'd played such a close game he believed no one could annex his roll. It was almost pathetic to behold his tristful tears as he dealt out the teeth, seven necklaces going to the delighted John.
"‘Guess I ain't a favorite, eh?' chuckled Tib, as the chief pressed forward and patted us each in turn.
"‘Maybe,' said I, 'only, Henry is the shrewdest trader in the street, and if he can forge a mortgage on any one's turtles he'll get back with a rush.'
"And to our annoyance he borrowed two parrots and a monkey and caught Amalgamated Dog on the rise for four pups. As the chief was stung for two of these it was a good wager he would either kill Tib and me, or the successful manipulator.
"‘I tell you, Henry is greater than we at this game,' I whispered, as I noted him carefully examining the different bits of discarded tape and trying to get a line on averages.
"‘Tut, tut,' laughed Tib. 'He's bankrupt. What he cleans up in the future will be on wash sales. He caught me napping, that's all. The royal house must be crowded from the running. If Henry ever gets the throne he'll short-circuit us. Now, gentlemen, attention, please.' And for five minutes the market was kept teetering and a dozen of my pictures were consumed. The changes came so close and were so narrow that the crowd was wildly feverish, and danced back and forth in a tumult of expectancy, making their wagers and crowing and groaning as Dame Fortune took her cue from my patron. But Henry stood aloof with lack-lustre eyes and mechanically pulled the ears of his meagre winnings.
"‘He's had enough,' chuckled Tib, and he turned to gloat over the chief, who now waded in and banged the wrong side of the market for a dozen parrots. 'Wish you could draw the replica of a bean. Henry is a millionaire in beans and we'd sting him to an empty vine.'
"‘Better stick to industrials and let bread-stuffs alone,' I warned.
"‘Maybe, but I love to annoy him, it makes him look so sad. Now, gentlemen—b-r-r-r! Click! click! Dry Lizard at four. Parrot Limited at three. B-r-r-r! Correction: Make Dry Lizard read five, with … Tweedledee now pitching for the Giants. Whew, Billy, but this is a nerve-racking game! Wonder why Henry was chinning with those two bears so long.'
"‘He's about to cut up didoes,' I murmured, over his shoulder. For really, sir, while J. W. G. was spectacular and could agitate his fat figure in true Monaco form, when compared with his silent and ingrowing brother he didn't shut out quite so much light as a silver three-cent piece. Instinctively, I knew Henry had it over him like a mile of blue sky.
"Tib, too, now scented danger and kept looking around for Wogo, who had strayed into the throng. 'Where's the Bug?' he whispered, hoarsely. Then cheerily, to deceive the mob, 'Cincinnati one, Boston nothing—in the eighth. B-r-r-r! Send Bug to me on the gallop. Click! click! Dry Lizard at six and Amalgamated forges ahead half a point because of favorable conditions in Russia. Where the deuce is Wogo?' And I trembled to note the old chap was getting a bit rattled, a bad sign, I can assure you, sir. 'Purchase of foney Gainsborough for three millions by an American in London booms Saginaw City bonds to a hundred and twelve. Amalgamated declares a dividend of three pups. Oh, punk!' And Tib paused, breathless, just as Wogo sneaked forward.
"'Trouble with the wire, gentleman,' announced Tib, loudly, and then exchanged a hatful of liquid Spanish with the Bug. As he got the last word he barked at me, without turning, 'One on the dog, Billy. Mark it down to one. Already, gentlemen. The chief dreamed last night that all his dogs grew very small. One of his wives just told Wogo. And he intends to interpret it to the contrary and bull the market. Hustle, oh, hustle, as I must begin my patter. Great Scott! Click! click! B-r-r-r! If it hadn't been for the Bug he'd have cornered Amalgamated Dog to the limit. Make it drop to one. Is it loaded?'
"I sobbed a tremulous affirmative, for now all was staked, and he began cantering about this focal stock in a saucy circle. Dear, dear! We couldn't see it coming. No one could. But, oh, it was waiting for us. As Tib gracefully waved the cage and allowed just a teasing bit of the bark tape to peep out, the half-naked gathering breathed deep and fiercely. None knew, or cared, how the quotations got into the cage, but each appreciated the arena would soon be dotted with the ruins of the unwise. And the chief was the biggest plunger of all, and his reckless demeanor in bulling Amalgamated made them scary. Yet some one was quietly covering all his offers, but who, we could not see.
"Then as the throng shook spear and fist and elbowed for room, my patron smiled wanly and began with Pig's Tooth, which dropped two points. Next came Lizard and Parrots, fluctuating just a wee bit, and no one as yet had made a big killing.
"‘Now, gentlemen, something tart in Amalgamated,' warned Tib, backing away a few steps and pausing to grin at me over his shoulder. Then indicating the fat, apoplectic chief, he lisped, 'Watch the crowd go down.' And he slowly fed out more of the fateful tape.
"Every gambler in the ring knew an hour ago a dog was worth eleven turtle-shells, and as this was the favorite stock, the next minute meant ruin or opulence and bone finery for many a humble hut.
"‘B-r-r-r!' began Tib, looking very solemn, while the chief clinched his hands and chattered away like a fractured Norwegian. 'Click! click! dot, dash, dot. Whew!' and he raised a hand impressively.
"‘Amalgamated Dog closes at one,' and an upraised digit interpreted the worst.
"Well, sir, they were stunned, and never made a move or a sound until they had read the tape. But such a husky roar as a full realization crept home! A decline of ten points!
"‘He's ruined,' howled Tib, trumpeting through his hands and ducking a spear. 'The Exchange remains closed indefinitely if the chorus don't keep him from us.'
"‘Great billiards,' I acknowledged; 'but what is the matter with Henry R.?'
"For as the chief bit and struggled to approach us, his skinny brother stepped out a slow, ponderous dance, punctuated with short, brisk yelps of gladness, and minced his way towards us and bowed mockingly. Then he began to harangue the mob, and Wogo, who could catch it in spots, went limp at the knees and whined that Henry had played the bear side with his bean capital and was now a millionaire in pups. Not only that, but he had cornered Amalgamated so thoroughly that the entire street would be dogless if he wasn't named chief in the place of his broken brother.
"‘What is?' I cried, as the circle narrowed and no rainbow stole in view.
"‘B-r-r-r!' worked Tib, desperately, and all paused at the old familiar sound. 'Tell 'em, Wogo, the little medicine in the cage wishes to repeat, as there is a mistake.'
"In some fashion the Bug conveyed this intelligence, but Henry, fearing a trick, raised a shrill clamor and begged for some one to loan him a spear. His brother, however, ceased his pow-wow as he realized we were offering to recount, and helped hold the mob back.
"‘Sneak to the river, Wogo, and pinch a canoe,' hissed Tib. Then waving the ticker and dancing madly into their very midst he distracted their attention, and as I watched his agility in dull amaze he further cried, 'Avaunt, Billy! Fade away! Click! click! B-r-r-r! Sneak!'
"And, Lord forgive me, I sneaked. I'd never have quit him, only when he said anything in that voice I was there to jump. And forgetting how ignoble it was, I ripped up the scenery in a mile sprint to the Beni. As I panted to the water's edge there was Wogo, the Bug, and a canoe.
"‘The fat señor,' he howled in delight; and, turning, I was overjoyed to behold Tib's round form bouncing through the trees with the brunette mob at his heels. He reached us a hundred feet in the lead.
"‘Jump!' I yelled, as he hesitated and turned and fumbled with the blessed parrot-cage for a few seconds, and then hurled it in their faces.
"‘They'll be after us,' he choked, as we plied the paddles.
"Wogo grinned and shook his head and kicked a spear at his feet. Then we knew he had destroyed their navy.
"‘Why did you tarry?' I gasped, as we tore through the water.
"‘Couldn't bear to think of Hen making such a clean-up,' he panted. 'I changed the quotation on Amalgamated to nineteen. John W. G. is now on velvet. Hark!'
"And a deafening cheer up-stream told us they had paused to count the marks, and that the Beni's boldest plunger had come into his own again.