The Argosy, Vol. 61, No. 4 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

580 certain tribe—and the fever, there was Hades to pay.” “But what about Innors? Why didn’t you help him and his family home ?”’ “[ don’t know anything about In- nors. The last I heard from him was he was sick with the fever. I couldn’t do anything. He’s a prisoner.” ‘‘ A prisoner ! ” “Yes. I don’t just know the rights of it. But Innors had some kind of a row with the governor of the depart- ment, or one of his deputies, or some- body else. He either hit him, or shot him, I don’t know which. Only thing I know is that he was in prison and sen- tenced to be shot, and they were wait- ing for him to recover from the fever so they could carry out the sentence.” “But what about the American con- sul?” ‘“ Didn’t I just tell you it was almost impossible to get word to Tegucigalpa? The forests are full of Zambos. They’ve gone mad over some new order from the government. I don’t know what it was.” ‘What Nellie?” ' “ They were well enough, last I knew, but there was no use trying to get them away. They won't leave until Innors is free—or dead—or something.”’ I looked at Drake. He was eagerly taking in every word. “T’ve got to get off at once,” J, de- clared. “Think of what may be hap- pening to those two women now.” “Oh,” said Wakler easily, “ they won't suffer none. ‘There’s a rich dago down there wants to marry Nellie, and another wants to marry Mrs. Innors as soon as she’s a widow.” “Good Heaven!” exclaimed Drake. “They'll kill Innors to make her a widow. Get off as soon as_ possible, Ford. You'll want papers, eh?”’ “A copy of the concession will be enough. I shall be on our own ground.” Tre.” “T want my money,” said Wakler. “TJ ain’t been paid in six months. [ve been coaxing that old tub around the bay on wood fire for half a year, and if I had a square meal I’d have to shoot or catch it myself.” about Mrs. Innors~ and THE ARGOSY. ‘Where’s the boat now?” I asked. “In the mud on Caros Island.” “Is that part of the concession?” “No, it isn’t much of anything. a little island in Fonseca Bay.” ‘* Now see here, Wakler,”’ said Drake, and he spoke somewhat sternly and to the point, “there is something you must understand. I have been appointed re- ceiver only to-day. penny in sight with which to pay you. But this must be done. Ford is going to the concession to take an inventory, so that I can realize as much as _ pos- sible, and legitimate wages earned shall be the first claim. Now, Ford has never seen the place, and you have. I want you to return with him, guide him to Estalona, and when I get in shape to It’s _ pay anything, I’ll double what you have earned.” There is not one ‘All right, if that’s the only way,” © said Wakler in a surly manner. “ But I’m _ broke.” “T’ll advance you a little,” I said. “Which: is the quickest way to get there?” ‘Well, you can do this. You can go to Galveston and take a steamship there * for Truxillo or Patuca, and cross on mules, or you can stop at Moloacan and go across Mexico by rail to Salina Cruz, and take a steamship there for Amalpa, or you can go by rail to San Diego, » California, and ‘start from ‘there in a steamer that stops at Mazatlan, San Blas, Manzanillo, Acapulco, and Salina Cruz. I don’t know which is the quick- est.” “Better take the Cruz route, Ford,’ said Drake. get off at once.” There was no need to tell me to hurry. My steamer trunk was not unpacked. I was all ready to begin another journey. Galveston-Salina §* And CHAPTER III. A SCENE OF DESOLATION. “ THERE, sir, is Estalona. Behold!” Wakler made a sweep witk his arm at the worst scene of desolation I ever looked at. I sat astride a horse, and Wakler rode . a big mule. We were dressed for rough traveling, and we had had our fill of it. CO OO