another, that I am personally convinced that the treasure was a reality—at least that [Pg 33]such a chest existed on the old ship. When you get into the contents of the chest, however, you find only a maze of conflicting rumors. To me they tend to make the story as a whole even more interesting—and I’ll confess I’d love to know what was in that chest.

[Pg 33]

“Well, the Arganil broke to pieces off the west coast of Florida, not more than twenty miles from here. That fact can not be doubted. There are accounts of the wreck on official record. And legend has it that through Heaven knows what wickedness and bloodshed and cunning, the two Jason brothers not only managed to get off in the stoutest of the ship’s boats, but that they carried the treasure with them.

“If there were any other members of the crew in the boat with them they were unquestionably murdered. Nothing was ever heard of them again. The two brothers are said to have landed somewhere close to this lagoon.

“But naked treasure breeds murder! It is a strange thing, Killdare, but the naked, yellow metal, as well as glittering jewels, gets home to human wickedness as nothing else in the world can. If that chest had been full of valuable securities, even paper currency, it wouldn’t have left such a red trail from Rio to Florida. Gold and jewels waken a fever of possession out of [Pg 34]all proportion to their actual value. When they landed on the shore one of the Jasons neatly murdered the other and made off with the chest.

[Pg 34]

“The same old yarn—Cain and Abel, Romulus and Remus. Killdare, did you know that fratricide is shockingly common? There are three kinds of brothers, and the Jasons were simply one of the three kinds. Sometimes you find brothers that love each other beyond belief, with a self-sacrificing devotion that is beautiful to see. Then you find the great mass of brothers—liking each other fairly well, loyal in a family scrap, fair pals but much closer to other pals that aren’t their brothers. Then you come to this third class, a puzzle to psychologists the world over! Brothers that hate each other like poison snakes.

“Why is it, Killdare? Jealousy? A survival from the beast? These were the kind of brothers that go through life bitter and hating and at swords’ points. And all too often they get to the killing stage.”

“You find it in the beast-world, too,” I commented. “Look at the case of 

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