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his neck in it, I had a good deal of experience. Mr. Sigsbee means well, but I can't see what real good he could be in case of accident."
"With her airplane and selected captive, she will arrive in Manaos," spoke Tellifer, the prophet. "I know that she will, for she is a very wise and practical person: she refused to take me! Dr. Otway, I presume you also are among the declined-with-regrets?"
"I am not." The philosophic eyes twinkled again. "In the first place, there was only one of us who deserved to be chosen. And in the second, I had already engaged myself to collect this material for the Widdiup book. But at least, if we are not helping her to make a flight, we are saving her the need of risking another one back here. And the honor of that is something!"
"It is much," agreed Waring, very meekly.
THE END
AUTHOR'S NOTE.—When the book to be entitled "Recent Discoveries Pointing to Confirmation of the Theory of Egyptian Origin for South American Aborigines," collated from material gathered on the spot by four faithful captives, and accredited to the posthumous fame of Dr. Alexander Widdiup, is published, it will be a worthy tome of interest to archaeologists. But I doubt if in its pages will appear the incidents of this tale.
The surrender of Alcot Waring was honorably adhered to. On his return to New York he sadly reported, "No material."
Young Mr. Sigsbee has not had leisure to tell a word of it. He is devotedly engaged in keeping up with the inherited disposition of Dr. Alexander Widdiup—an exciting occupation which suits him perfectly.
Mr. Theron Narcisse Tellifer is far too proudly impractical to commit his weird thoughts and adventures to the cold, definite keeping of paper and printer's ink.
But John B. is a very good friend of mine—and John B. told it all to me!
THE TALISMAN
(Continued from page 63)
Imagine, then, my disappointment when in the morning I thrust my hand into the pocket to find it empty.
"Mitsu San," I turned to the amah who was ordering my room, "you must remember that Japanese charm I had all these days." And proceeded to describe it. "Maybe you have seen it or perhaps it fell out when you were brushing that dress? I have lost it and want to see it again very much."
"Wak arimasen (I don't understand)," she replied indifferently, and I turned angrily away. When a Japanese suddenly fails to understand English it is a certain sign he or she does not wish to understand.
Yet after my coffee I decided to use all patience and diplomacy I could lay claim to and interview Mitsu San once again. I somehow felt sure she knew more than she wanted to tell. But when I glanced, in passing, through the window I beheld Mitsu San hurrying down the Bluff toward the waterfront. Decidedly luck was against me.
But I would not acknowledge myself beaten. The charm was in my pocket yesterday. For the matter of that, it had been there all these days, brushing or no brushing. I knew Japanese servants rarely if ever take anything belonging to a foreigner. Maybe the charm had been dropped somewhere on the premises and I might still be able to recover it.
I did a bit of quick thinking. Then I went downstairs for a talk with the owner of our boarding-house.
"Mrs. Brown," I began, "I have lost a very valuable—"
"In my house? Impossible!" exclaimed that good lady with a great show of horror.
I hastened to reassure her.
"It was just a wooden Japanese keep-sake of no value whatever to any one but myself. It has been mislaid entirely through my fault. I beg to note this and not lay the blame on servants. Yet I want to recover it very badly and am prepared to offer a money reward to the person who brings it to me whole—or broken."
"This is very unusual," replied the flustered Mrs. Brown, "I shall ring for the housekeeper. She may be able to advise us."
Soon the housekeeper, a very matter-of-fact Scotch woman, appeared. I repeated to her what I had said to Mrs. Brown.
"Are you speaking of that wooden chip you showed your friends the other day?" she inquired. I hastened to assent.
"Why, I have seen it half an hour ago in the servants' quarters," she said.
I felt a surge of excitement shoot through me.
"Mitsu San was just wrapping it up in a piece of white paper when I happened to enter her room. I recognized it at once, but thought you had given it to her to throw away. For you see it was broken clean through the middle."
