Wyndham's Pal Part 30

Marston stated his grounds for believing this, and Wyndham, after pondering for a few moments, looked hard at him.

"Well, I suppose you see what it implies?"

"I'm in the way. Somebody meant to get rid of me."

"Yes; but that's not all," said Wyndham, with a dry smile. "It looks as if I'm not thought dangerous; the man we're up against is not persuaded my reform's sincere. On the whole, this may be an advantage. To puzzle your antagonist is good strategy."

He drained his gla.s.s and lighted his pipe. "In the meantime, we'll let it go. What about the new running gear? Have we enough manilla rope for the peak-halyards?"

CHAPTER III

WYNDHAM TRIES PERSUASION

The moon had not risen and thick mist drifted past the schooner before the hot land-breeze. Marston was talking to Wyndham in the cabin, but stopped when something b.u.mped against the vessel's side.

"What's that?" he asked sharply.

"A canoe, I think," said Wyndham, and both listened.

Marston wanted to run up on deck, but did not. Since his adventure on the flat had rather shaken his nerve, he meant to use some control. For a few moments they heard nothing and then the sliding hatch rattled, as if somebody pulled it back. Marston thought it significant that none of the crew had challenged the stranger. The hatch opened and the old mulatto came down. He did not squat on the deck, as he had done before, but sat, like a white man, on the side locker.

"Give me a drink; you know my taste," he said, and Marston noticed that he spoke good English.

Wyndham gave him some old brandy and he drank with leisurely enjoyment.

Although he wore ragged and dirty cotton and his legs were bare, it was obvious that Rupert Wyndham had now done with pretense.

"I'm your guest," he said to Wyndham. "Perhaps it's not good manners, but I'd sooner Mr. Marston left us alone."

"Bob's my partner; I think we'll let him stay," Wyndham replied. "All that interests me interests him."

Rupert shrugged. "It looks as if you had given him your confidence."

"He knows who you are."

"Oh, well!" said Rupert. "You sent for me. I don't know if I approve the form of the invitation you gave my servant."

"Something like _le Majeste_?" Wyndham suggested.

"Something like that," said Rupert with a touch of dryness. "After all, I'm king _de facto_ in the bush."

"Then I think you ought to be content," Wyndham rejoined. "The republic is forced to challenge a king _de jure_."

Rupert looked at him with half-closed, bloodshot eyes, and Marston thought his face was now like a negro's. After all, his civilized talk and manners were a mask; the fellow was a negro underneath.

"We'll talk about this again," he said in a careless voice. "You seem to have got scrupulous since you went home. Is it a prudish girl's influence or your partner's?"

"My wife's, for the most part. If you take it for granted that I agree, it will clear the ground."

"Ah,"--said Rupert, frowning, "it looks as if I were foolish when I helped you to marry. Perhaps I forgot--it's long since I studied things from the white man's point of view and women don't count in the bush.

They are toys and don't make rules for their lovers."

"Unless human nature's different in the jungle, I expect some do so,"

Marston remarked.

"Their end is generally sudden," said Rupert, with grim humor. Then he turned to Wyndham. "I promised to make you rich. Have I cheated you?"

"No. In a sense, you have kept your promise; but, for all that, I was cheated. My reward vanished when I got it."

Rupert gave him a mocking smile. "Sometimes it happens so, but this is your affair and we will not philosophize. You made a bargain and got the goods, for which you must pay."

"I'm willing to pay. We have brought a load of stuff that has a standard value in the bush. If this won't satisfy you, I've paid a sum to your account at my bank. You can draw it when you like."

"Neither plan will do. I don't want trade rubbish and money is not much use. I need the goods I expected you to bring. If you refuse to supply me, you miss a chance you will not get again."

"I'm not sure that to seize the chance would be a very sound speculation," Wyndham rejoined in a thoughtful voice.

Marston looked hard at him. Harry's manner almost hinted that he was hesitating, but this was unthinkable. Rupert, however, smiled.

"You are a tactful fellow! You want me to state things plainly in order to persuade you? Well, I will be frank, and if I can banish your scruples, so much the better. We are relations and ought not to be enemies----"

Rupert paused for a moment or two and then went on: "I sent you rare goods--that sell for high prices in England, but so far I have not sent you the best. There are plants in the swamps for which doctors and chemists would give very much. A few of my people know where they can be found, but I am perhaps the only man who knows how the essences can be distilled. After all, I am not a magician for nothing."

"There is not much modern chemists do not know," Marston interposed.

"Your manufacturing chemists have not got the plants," said Rupert dryly. "The finished product is scarce and valuable; I have the knowledge that can bring the raw material to the distilling retorts.

Well, if I use this knowledge, I make my charge, and I have offered my nephew a generous share."

"On some conditions, to which I can't agree," Wyndham rejoined. "Your secret is worth money, but you can use it in one of two ways. You mean to smuggle the stuff into England in small quant.i.ties at a monopoly price; I think the other line would pay you better. Ship all you can, develop the trade openly, and although the price will drop and you may have rivals, the sums paid will be large and you will be first on the ground."

Rupert gave him an ironical smile. "You are rather obvious, Harry. You want me to come out of my seclusion and engage in conventional trade. I see drawbacks. In six months, English, American, and German buyers would overrun the country, touting for business. The country's mine and my people will not let white men get control. We are satisfied with the old rules and don't want tram-roads, clearings, and factories. In fact, we don't mean to be exploited for the advantage of Larrinaga's greedy politicians, who'd sell the foreigners trading privileges for bribes."

He stopped and drained his gla.s.s, and there was silence for a minute or two. Wyndham understood his uncle and rather sympathized. Independence and liberty to follow one's bent were worth much; one would not change them carelessly for the commercialism that gave a man no choice but to work by rule or starve. Marston, however, was puzzled and presently remarked:

"Clearings would let in some light, which the country needs."

"The light your industrial civilization gives is dim. I and the others would sooner have the dark. You hate the shadowy world because you do not know it; I have lived in it long."

"How have you lived?" Marston asked. "You are a white man and it's plain you have unusual gifts. Yet you're satisfied to skulk about the swamps in dirt and rags, cheating superst.i.tious brutes by conjuring tricks! The thing's unthinkable."

Rupert looked at him with the smile Marston hated. It was malevolent and mocked his philosophy.

"Some of the tricks are clever; they have puzzled you. We will not argue whether all are tricks or not. Anyhow, the clever impostor is a common type. Men who claim magic power direct your company-floating and manipulate your politics; but perhaps it's among primitive people the fakir has most influence. In the bush, I'm high-priest, and something of a prophet."

"You claim to be king," said Wyndham, very dryly. "Prophecy's not difficult when you rather trust to knowledge your disciples haven't got than inspiration. No doubt, you make lucky shots, but royalty's another job. An unacknowledged king must fight for his crown. I want you to think if you hadn't better give it up."