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Show VVwVaY 1 w.w.u. service 'iJr'jf THE STORY SO FAR: Jeff CarUs and his wife, Lee, are already on their way to Tierra Libre when Jeff receives re-ceives a note from Zora Mitchell warning warn-ing them not to come. It li too late to turn back, so Jeff decides not to tell Lee, who was opposed to their returning return-ing to the tropics. She finally agreed to go only after Jeff persuaded her that the Job of chief engineer for a newly organized fruit company is the chance ot a lifetime. He nearly changed his own mind about going after talking long distance to Jerry Mclnnis, a former associate of his In Tierra Libre, who told him that Zora Mitchell's husband had been killed. It Is Mitchell's Job that Jeff has been called to fill. They are docking now at Cabeza de Negro, Jeff thinking of Zora's note, "Don't come." NOW CONTINUE WITH THE STORY I CHAPTER II Don't come! And here he was with Lee In the curve of his arm, Buddy and Chuck tugging at his trousers, with Tierra Libre rising up out ol the morning sea, the buildings of Cabeza de Negro taking shape. His arm unconsciously tightened about Lee. Long before they drew close enough to make out details of the sturdy new docks and receiving sheds they saw the motor launch cutting along the coast as though to intercept them. It, too, was headed head-ed for the port, and at last Curt recognized the figure standing in the cockpit He yanked oft his hat to wave It tender mixed them nearby, Curt made conversation. "Jerry, it'll cost so much to produce pro-duce and ship fruit here that I don't see how these people can hope to compete with Associated. Not without a subsidy, and Tierra Libre does not grant subsidies." Mclnnis grunted. "Well that's their business." "Of course," Curt mused on, "it's a pretty slick hombre who could put anything over on Old Man Moore. I could give even money the Old Man figures they'll go broke getting into production, then plans to bid in and take over the concession conces-sion cheap. Maybe throw a bridge across the Negro and handle the fruit once from pick-up to the dock at Soledad." Mclnnis grinned, but said nothing. noth-ing. The bartender placed the drinks before them, then left to lend a hand in the kitchen lean-to. Alone now, and with a furtive glance to be sure Lee was occupied with the children, Curt pulled forth Zora Mitchell's letter. He spread it open before the other, and bis face was serious, his voice low. "Jerry, what've I got into?" Mclnnis read the note, refolded it, slid it back to Curt. He frowned. He took a long pull at his drink. "All right, Jerry, out with it," Curt spoke again. "What's up?" "Well, Curt," his friend said finally, final-ly, "my reason for coming down "you know no white man would hack a guy to pieces the way Mitch was found." Curt thought this out. "Huh, unless it was to hide the fact that it was a white man's killing. kill-ing. And suppose it was a white man, Jerry, or a couple of them? So what? Old Mitch knew his Job, but he certainly piled up enemies. You and I know that well enough. He made engineers out of us, first job out of college, but we got plenty bruised in the process. Men with less sense of humor than we have can't take the treatment he dished out" Curt pulled at his drink reflectively. reflective-ly. "You didn't give me any details," he mentioned after another moment. mo-ment. "There aren't many. A trackwalker track-walker found him early in the morningfortunately morn-ingfortunately before the buzzards did. Let's see, the 11th, it was. About a kilometer outside of Tem-pujo, Tem-pujo, in a ditch by the track. The damn zopilotes were wheeling overhead, over-head, so he got the section handcar, loaded the body onto it " "The 11th?" interrupted Curt "That's the date of their letter to me! They didn't waste any time. Wonder how they picked a man so quickly?" "Well, the date's correct. I remember re-member because we had an early evening dinner-dance on the Tekla at Soledad the night before Mitch nroc fniini LrA Vio Tdklo milled wildly. "Jerry, you old muckle-head," he shouted. "I might've known you'd come down to meet us." "Yeh, got your wireless you were coming through Cabeza. Hiya, Curt Hiya, Lee," called the stocky man In the launch. "It's good to see you folks again. Where're the kids?" Curt and Lee each picked up a child and stood him on the broad tail.' Buddy, from his new vantage point, piped up: "Mummy, what's a muckle-head?" "A muckle-head, darling," she answered an-swered gravely, "is your Uncle Jerry Jer-ry down in the little boat. See?" There was no opportunity for dallying dal-lying here. The launch drew away and by the time the Pisces warped up to the dock Jerry Mclnnis leathered leath-ered face, close-cropped hair, weather-stained clothes was waiting wait-ing for them. A docDhand delivered a message from Senor Montaya on a company briefhead. The senor had been delayed de-layed in getting down river to meet them but would reach Cabeza in another hour or so. "That one of their river boats?" "Yep. They have two. But we can talk later, Curt." Jerry scooped up the children, one in each arm. "Let's find a more comfortable spot for the wait. Lee, you're looking great! If I didn't know better I'd guess you were twenty. Hard to kaliairn Viea or vnitrO TvTnrta out for Cristobal about 9:00 p. m. on the 10th." "It did!" exclaimed Curt softly. He looked- at Mclnnis. "Their letter let-ter to me was dated the 11th, but air-mailed from Cristobal on the 12th. Didn't notice that discrepancy discrepan-cy at first. When I finally did, I figured fig-ured the letter either made a plane to the Canal Zone, or was misdated in error." "We have no air service in Panama Pana-ma from Soledad direct Course, it's less than two hours by air to the Zone, but I doubt they'd make the flight just for a letter. Anyway, Any-way, I know a messenger from Tem-pujo Tem-pujo brought mail to the Tekla just before it sailed. Came as our party was breaking up and going ashore." "Then the chances are the letter to me, dated the 11th, was put aboard the Tekla which sailed the 10th. Actually mailed before Mitch was found murdered. Right?" "By God, Curt that's so!" Mclnnis Mc-lnnis brought his palm down on the bar. "Mitch was killed some time after dark on the 10th and discovered discov-ered early on the 11th." "Meanwhile . . ." Curt fell silent, then looked up keenly. "The two Swedes are white men." Mclnnis frowned. "And there are plenty more white men where you're going. No, Curt, the Swedes are not what we'd want for bosom pals, but we've no Tight to jump to conclusions. con-clusions. Besides," he dropped the scowl and erinned. "I did some "There's nothing I can put a finger fin-ger on." to the coast to meet you wasn't altogether social. But now I'm here, I have my doubts. There's nothing noth-ing I can put a finger on." He paused. "Come on, pal, we know each other's oth-er's first name. Spill it." It came out slowly and in pieces. "Well, Curt, I can't help feeling there's something fishy about your new outfit. They have more men on their payroll than we have, for instance, Americans as well as natives, na-tives, trying to get things set before be-fore the next rainy season. That's all right But Soledad's the only live spot such as it is within their range. You couldn't call Cabeza satisfactory place to liven a fellow up over a holiday. "So well, damn it all, you'd expect ex-pect that gang to come to Soledad once in a while. But no one ever does. The two Swedes and the Dutchman I told you about are the only ones who ever get to Soledad, and that's only on business, to supervise super-vise receipt of shipments. "And they don't talk! We tried to get up a ball game with your people once. No go. It's as though this Montaya was afraid his men'd spill something to our advantage. And that's carrying the rivalry theme a bit far for this business and this country. I well, you see how vague it is, only a feeling . . ." Curt reflected. He pushed his glass around in circles on the bar. "Ever get over to the new planting plant-ing yourself?" "No," grinned Mclnnis. "That wouldn't be etiquette. The Old Man paid them a courtesy visit once, but we're rival outfits. If I went over they'd think it snooping. AU the dope I've had on them is picked up from natives. You know how stuff gets around. "And that leads right Into what I really came down here for. It was especially to uh, warn you. But, he held up his hand, "don't ask me against what I don't know. That note from Zora Mitchell I'd talk to her as soon as I could. Sounds like she knows something." He held an uncomfortable silence for a moment. Then: "I got hold of a rumor after you called me several days ago. There's no evidence, mind you, and it was too late to stop you by cable. Well, the natives working for me have their own ideas about Mitchell's death. They say it was no native did the job, but a couple of white men. But Curt," ne expostulated, j sends her love and can't wait to see you." Mclnnis, chuckling, nodded from Curt's piled luggage to his own launch boy, and the mestizo immediately imme-diately took possession to stand guard. Then the Associated man led the way from the dock to the one main street of the town. There were signs of recent construction. The new company was booming the village. "That's a good dock they've built," Curt said. "I suppose Mitchell Mitch-ell did it?" "Sure." Just the one word, and it sounded strange. Clipped and odd, for Mclnnis. Mc-lnnis. Curt threw his friend a sidelong side-long glance. "Looks like they're really going it big here." Associated Fruit Growers where Curt and Mclnnis, fresh from M. I. T., had their first years of practical engineering stretched along the north bank of the Rio Negro, a hundred kilometers or more of banana plantations in an almost unbroken line. These were fed by a narrow-gauge railroad, and there was one handling of fruit from farm pick-tip platforms to conveyor belts at shipside. But the new Compania Agricola Tropical, south of the Negro, had more of a problem. It wasn't possible pos-sible to run a railroad through to the sea. Salt marshes lay between their concession and the coast and made it necessary to handle fruit by rail from farm to river port, and by steamer or lighters from there to Cabeza where ocean vessels could pick it up. Not so good, two handlings han-dlings of perishable fruit Costly, too. And the delay and expense of hauling construction materials up river was sharp in Curt's mind. "Well, here we are." Mclnnis stopped before a small cantina, the facade a blinding, bilious bil-ious green in the raw sunshine. Mclnnis Mc-lnnis put the boys down, led them Inside. Lee and Curt followed. "It's nearly lunch time," Mclnnis remarked. "Shouldn't the kids be fed, Lee? You know what the cooking cook-ing is like here, but we can probably proba-bly get canned soups."' Lee smiled. "I don't need a brick wall to fall on me. Go aead, you two. Have a drink. I know you have plenty to talk over. I'll drag out my rusty Spanish and get along." The men turned to the deserted bar at the end of the room, mounted mount-ed uncomfortable stools and ordered fin rickeys. While the native bar- checking up myself. Had my motor boy ask questions here and there. The Swede made the run from Tem-pujo Tem-pujo to San Alejo late that afternoon, after-noon, while Mitch was staying in Tempujo overnight" Another silence fell between them. Then Curt spoke harshly. "Jerry, there's more here than meets the eye. If Mitch's killing was a grudge payment, then, Tierra Libre being what it is, there's little lit-tle we can do about it Nothing, in fact And there's nothing for me to worry about. I don't make enemies ene-mies like Mitch did. But if there's more behind it . . ." Mclnnis heaved a sigh. "Curt be careful! Don't mount any white charger over Mitch. He I asked for it. He's been asking for it for years. And you've got Lee and the kids here now. But if well, I don't have to say it, but if you find you're in a spot, call on me." They downed the last of their drinks and swiveled to face the room. But before rejoining Lee Curt brought up another matter. "By the way," he said slowly, studying his friend's face, "I saw a destroyer headed for Soledad this morning. American, I suppose looked like ours. Any particular reason for it?" "No. The country's quiet as a church meeting. Dr. Arecas only one step removed from being a dictator, dic-tator, sure, but a good one. Seems to be what the people need, they're satisfied. He's solidly entrenched, too, there's no opposition to speak of. But . . ." He paused. "Well?" "Well, we had a Navy visit only a couple of weeks ago, and they certainly cer-tainly aren't scheduled to stop in again so toon." He added, in a puzzled puz-zled tone, "Funny I didn't see the ship as I came down the coast" "You were pretty low in the water wa-ter and they were some distance off." "Huh. Well . . ."He shrugged. They started across the room to rejoin Lee and the boys. Mclnnis dug his fingers into Curt's arm. "See Zora Mitchell, Curt first thing you get to San Alejo. But only to find out if you have anything personal to guard against" he said insistently. "Don't borrow trouble. You're a family man now. What's more, the family's right here with you." "Yeh, I see what you mean," Curt answered dryly, his eyes on Lee and the children. (TO BE CONTINUED! |