my buried treasure-第5章
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Providence I would at once become heir to one million dollars。 It
was a beautiful； satisfying dream。 Even MY conscience accepted it
with a smug smile。 It was so vivid a dream that I sat guiltily
expectant； waiting for the crash to come； for the shrieks and
screams； for the rush of escaping steam and breaking window…panes。
But it was far too good to be true。 Without a jar the train carried
us and its precious burden in safety to the Jersey City terminal。
And each； with half a million dollars in his hand； hurried to the
ferry； assailed by porters； news…boys； hackmen。 To them we were a
couple of commuters saving a dime by carrying our own hand…bags。
It was now six o'clock； and I pointed out to Edgar that at that
hour the only vaults open were those of the Night and Day Bank。 And
to that institution in a taxicab we at once made our way。 I paid
the chauffeur； and two minutes later； with a gasp of relief and
rejoicing； I dropped the suit…case I had carried on a table in the
steel…walled fastnesses of the vaults。 Gathered excitedly around us
were the officials of the bank； summoned hastily from above； and
watchmen in plain clothes； and watchmen in uniforms of gray。 Great
bars as thick as my leg protected us。 Walls of chilled steel rising
from solid rock stood between our treasure and the outer world。
Until then I had not known how tremendous the nervous strain had
been； but now it came home to me。 I mopped the perspiration from my
forehead； I drew a deep breath。
〃Edgar；〃 I exclaimed happily； 〃I congratulate you！〃 I found Edgar
extending toward me a two…dollar bill。 〃You gave the chauffeur two
dollars；〃' he said。 〃The fare was really one dollar eighty； so you
owe me twenty cents。〃
Mechanically I laid two dimes upon the table。
〃All the other expenses；〃 continued Edgar； 〃which I agreed to pay；
I have paid。〃 He made a peremptory gesture。 〃I won't detain you any
longer；〃 he said。 〃Good…night！〃
〃Good…night！〃 I cried。 〃Don't I see the treasure？〃 Against the
walls of chilled steel my voice rose like that of a tortured soul。
〃Don't I touch it！〃 I yelled。 〃Don't I even get a squint？ 〃
Even the watchmen looked sorry for me。
〃You do not！〃 said Edgar calmly。 〃You have fulfilled your part of
the agreement。 I have fulfilled mine。 A year from now you can write
the story。〃 As I moved in a dazed state toward the steel door； his
voice halted me。
〃And you can say in your story；〃 called Edgar；〃 that there is only
one way to get a buried treasure。 That is to go； and get it！〃
THE CONSUL
For over forty years； in one part of the world or another； old man
Marshall had； served his country as a United States consul。 He had
been appointed by Lincoln。 For a quarter of a century that fact was
his distinction。 It was now his epitaph。 But in former years； as
each new administration succeeded the old； it had again and again
saved his official head。 When victorious and voracious
place…hunters； searching the map of the world for spoils； dug out
his hiding…place and demanded his consular sign as a reward for a
younger and more aggressive party worker； the ghost of the dead
President protected him。 In the State Department； Marshall had
become a tradition。 〃You can't touch Him！〃 the State Department
would say； 〃why； HE was appointed by Lincoln！〃 Secretly； for this
weapon against the hungry headhunters； the department was
infinitely grateful。 Old man Marshall was a consul after its own
heart。 Like a soldier； he was obedient； disciplined； wherever he
was sent； there； without question； he would go。 Never against
exile； against ill…health； against climate did he make complaint。
Nor when he was moved on and down to make way for some
ne'er…do…well with influence； with a brother…in… law in the Senate；
with a cousin owning a newspaper； with rich relatives who desired
him to drink himself to death at the expense of the government
rather than at their own； did old man Marshall point to his record
as a claim for more just treatment。
And it had been an excellent record。 His official reports； in a
quaint； stately hand； were models of English； full of information；
intelligent； valuable； well observed。 And those few of his
countrymen； who stumbled upon him in the out…of… the…world places
to which of late he had been banished； wrote of him to the
department in terms of admiration and awe。 Never had he or his
friends petitioned for promotion； until it was at last apparent
that； save for his record and the memory of his dead patron； he had
no friends。 But； still in the department the tradition held and；
though he was not advanced； he was not dismissed。
〃If that old man's been feeding from the public trough ever since
the Civil War；〃 protested a 〃practical〃 politician； 〃it seems to
me； Mr。 Secretary； that he's about had his share。 Ain't it time he
give some one else a bite？ Some of us that has； done the work； that
has borne the brunt〃
〃This place he now holds；〃 interrupted the Secretary of State
suavely； 〃is one hardly commensurate with services like yours。 I
can't pronounce the name of it； and I'm not sure just where it is；
but I see that； of the last six consuls we sent there； three
resigned within a month and the other three died of yellow…fever。
Still； if you。 insist〃
The practical politician reconsidered hastily。 〃I'm not the sort；〃
he protested； 〃to turn out a man appointed by our martyred
President。 Besides； he's so old now； if the fever don't catch him；
he'll die of old age； anyway。〃
The Secretary coughed uncomfortably。 〃And they say；〃 he murmured；
〃republics are ungrateful。〃
〃I don't quite get that；〃 said the practical politician。
Of Porto Banos； of the Republic of Colombia； where as consul Mr。
Marshall was upholding the dignity of the United States； little
could be said except that it possessed a sure harbor。 When driven
from the Caribbean Sea by stress of weather； the largest of ocean
tramps； and even battle…ships； could find in its protecting arms of
coral a safe shelter。 But； as young Mr。 Aiken； the wireless
operator； pointed out； unless driven by a hurricane and the fear of
death； no one ever visited it。 Back of the ancient wharfs； that
dated from the days when Porto Banos was a receiver of stolen goods
for buccaneers and pirates； were rows of thatched huts； streets；
according to the season； of dust or mud； a few iron…barred；
jail…like barracks； customhouses； municipal buildings； and the
whitewashed adobe houses of the consuls。 The backyard of the town
was a swamp。 Through this at five each morning a rusty engine
pulled a train of flat cars to the base of the mountains； and； if
meanwhile the rails had not disappeared into the swamp； at five in
the evening brought back the flat cars laden with odorous
coffeesacks。
In the daily life of Porto Banos； waiting for the return of the
train； and betting if it would return； was the chief interest。 Each
night the consuls； the foreign residents； the wireless operator；
the manager of the rusty railroad met for dinner。 There at the head
of the long table； by virtue of his years； of his courtesy and
distinguished manner； of his office； Mr。 Marshall presided。 Of the
little band of exiles he was the chosen ruler。 His rule was gentle。
By force of example he had made existence in Porto Banos more
possible。 For women and children Porto Banos was a death…trap； and
before 〃old man Marshall〃 came there had been no influence to
remind the enforced bachelors of other days。
They had lost interest； had grown lax； irritable； morose。 Their
white duck was seldom white。 Their cheeks were unshaven。 When the
sun sank into the swamp and the heat still turned Porto Banos into
a Turkish bath； they threw dice on the greasy tables of the Cafe
Bolivar for drinks。 The petty gambling led to petty quarrels； the
drinks to fever。 The coming of Mr。 Marshall changed that。 His
standard of life； his tact； his worldly wisdom； his cheerful
courtesy； his fastidious personal neatness shamed the younger men；
the desire to please him； to； stand well in his good opinion；
brought back pride and self…esteem。
The lieutenant of her Majesty's gun…boat PLOVER noted the change。
〃Used to be；〃 he exclaimed； 〃you couldn't
