o do it?"

McKay smiled. The directness of the man amused him.

"As bad as that?" asked Knowlton.

"As bad as that. Blow your head off if you like. Cut your throat. Take
poison. Jump into the river among the alligators. Step on a snake. But
keep away from the Red Bones."

"Why?" shot McKay.

"Cannibals--and worse."

"Worse?"

"Truly. Most of the Brazilian savages do not torture. The Red Bones do."

"Pleasant prospect."

"Very. Nothing to be gained among them, either. If you're hunting gold,
try the hills over west of the Huallaga. None here."

Knowlton filled and lit a pipe. McKay slowly drank the last of his
syrupy coffee and rolled a cigarette. Schwandorf continued shoveling
food into his capacious mouth.

"Know anything about the Raposa?" Knowlton asked.

The Teuton's eyelashes flickered. He ground another chunk of meat
between his jaws before answering.

"Of course," he said then. "Wild dog. Sharp snout, gray hair, bushy
tail. I've shot a couple of them."

"This one is a man. Green eyes, streak of white hair over the left ear.
Paints himself like the Red Bones, as you call them, but is a white
man."

"Oh! That one? Heard of him, yes. Wild man of the jungle. Want to catch
him and put him in a circus?"

"Maybe. We'd like to see him, anyhow. Heard about him awhile ago. Any
way to get him that you know of?"

"Might try a steel trap," the German suggested, callously. "But I don't
know where you'd set it. Best way to get a wild dog is to shoot him, and
he isn't much good dead. Or would this one be worth something--dead?" A
swift sidelong glance accompanied the question.

"Not a cent!" snapped McKay.

"And perhaps he'd be worth nothing alive," added Knowlton. "But we have
a healthy curiosity to look him over. Guess the Red Bone country would
be the likeliest place. How far is it from here?"

"Keep out of it," was the stubborn reply.

The Americans rose.

"We are not going to keep out of it," Knowlton declared, coldly. "We are
going straight into it. Thank you for your assistance."

"Not so fast," Schwandorf protested. "If you are determined to go I will
help you if I can. Shall we sit on the piazza with a small bottle to aid
digestion? So! Thomaz! Bring from my stock the kuemmel. Or would you
prefer whisky, gentlemen?"

"Ginger-ale highballs are my favorite fruit," admitted Knowlton. "Can
ginger ale be bought here?"

"Indeed yes. At one milrei a bottle."

"Cheap enough. Thomaz, three bot