d Lourenco. Shall
we go into the office, gentlemen?"

Chairs scraped back and an exodus from the dining room ensued. Outside,
the lusty voice of the negro bawled. Soon he was back, and at his heels
strode the lithe Pedro and the quiet Lourenco. They ran their eyes over
the group, then stood looking inquiringly at their employer.

"Be seated, men. Roll cigarettes if you like," said the coronel. Coolly
they did both. Pedro, catching Tim's friendly grin, flashed a quick
smile in return. Lourenco, unsmiling, looked squarely into each man's
face in turn and seemed satisfied with what he saw. Both then glanced
around as if missing some one.

"Your friend Jose has left us," the coronel informed them, dryly,
interpreting the look. "He disappeared in the night."

"Ah! That is why one of our canoes is gone," said Pedro. "We are ready
to start."

"You mistake," the old gentleman laughed. "We do not want him back.
Nothing else is missing."

Whereat Pedro looked slightly surprised. Lourenco's lips curved in a
faint grin. Neither made any further comment.

The coronel plunged at once into the business for which they had been
summoned. Succinctly he stated the purpose of the North Americans in
coming here, pointed out their need of guides--and stopped there. He
said nothing of the dangers ahead, mentioned no reward, did not even ask
the men whether they would go. He merely lit a fresh cigar and leaned
back in his chair.

A silence followed. Again Lourenco looked searchingly into the face of
each American. Pedro contemplated the opposite wall, taking occasional
puffs from his cigarette. At length Knowlton suggested, tentatively:

"We will pay well--"

Both the bushmen frowned. The coronel spoke in a tone of mild reproof:

"Senhor, it is not a matter of pay. These men can make plenty of money
as _seringueiros_."

"Pardon," said Knowlton, and thereafter held his tongue.

Deliberately Lourenco finished his smoke, pinched the coal between a
hard thumb and forefinger, and spoke for the first time.

"May I ask, senhor, if you are the commander?" His gaze rested on McKay.

"I am."

"And do I understand that we shall at all times be subject to your
orders?"

"In case any orders are necessary--yes. But I assume that you will not
need commands."

A quiet smile showed in the bushman's eyes. He glanced at Pedro. The
latter met the look from the corner of his eye, without wink, nod, or
other sign. But when Lourenco turned ag