Brazilian Gold Mine Mystery
reached the window and looked down into the dark, the man had vanished in the thick mesh of tropical foliage that had broken his fall.

“No use trying to go after him,” decided Mr. Brewster ruefully. “We don’t even know the direction he has taken. The hotel clerk will have heard the shot. We’ll let him report the incident to the police. They’ll figure it was just a sneak thief.”

“But what about the map?” Biff inquired anxiously. “How will you find the route to the Orinoco without it?”

“I still have the corner that shows the mine itself,” declared Mr. Brewster, holding it for Biff to see. “And Joe Nara would have to guide us there anyway.”

Biff’s father frowned. “We may have trouble getting through to the Orinoco, if someone tries to block our way. But from there on, it should be smooth sailing. Mr. Stannart says in his letter that he will bring his yacht to meet us on our way back, and will sign the agreement with Nara, then and there.”

Returning to their room, Biff and his father met the manager of the hotel hastening up the stairs. Mr. Brewster told him briefly that they had surprised a sneak thief in their room, and handed over the intruder’s revolver. With profuse apologies, the manager departed after Mr. Brewster refused his offer to have the room put in order.

When they were alone, Biff’s father said, “It was neat, the way you disarmed that fellow. Where did you learn that trick?”

“From Mr. Serbot,” replied Biff, “the man I met on the plane coming from Belem.”

While they were repacking Mr. Brewster’s bags and clearing up the room, Biff told his father about the things they had discussed on the plane. Mr. Brewster listened intently, then asked:

“Did you tell Serbot that I was stopping at this hotel?”

“Positively not,” returned Biff. “He couldn’t possibly have learned it—unless—”

“Unless what?”

“Unless he saw the envelope,” exclaimed Biff in a hollow tone. “It nearly worked out of my pocket while I was asleep. Mr. Serbot might have drawn it out that far. When I looked at him, though, he was asleep, with his hands folded.”

“Playing innocent, perhaps. Did he seem to make a habit of folding his hands?”


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