canvas curtains. “What else did Lew say?”

“He said you convinced the Indians that you were a powerful witch doctor, so they led you to the lost mine.”

“From the tricks I showed them,” chuckled Nara, “they thought I was El Dorado the Original, and that the mine belonged to me and Lew. You know the story of the man who turned all golden? Well, I proved it could be done.”

Biff was hoping that Nara would give more details on that subject, when suddenly, the white-haired man demanded:

“Did Lew give you a map to locate the mine?”

“Not exactly,” replied Mr. Brewster. “He gave me one showing a route from the mine to some waterways which he said led to the Orinoco River. That was all.”

“That was enough. It proved there was a short way out.”

“Yes, but I still have to go over the actual route to make sure that gold ore could be transported by it, down the Orinoco.”

“Do you have the map with you now?”

“Only part of it.”

From deep in his pocket, Mr. Brewster produced the torn corner from Kirby’s map.

“A prowler stole the rest from my hotel room,” he explained. “I managed to hold on to the part that shows the mine.”

Joe Nara stroked his chin in worried fashion.

“If somebody showed me the rest of the map,” he commented, “I might have to believe them if they said they knew Lew Kirby, too.”

“I thought of that,” returned Mr. Brewster calmly, “and I would be glad if such a person should appear. It would be a case of a thief trapping himself.”

Joe Nara nodded as though he agreed; but he immediately dropped the subject of the map and the mine as well.

During the next few days, the Xanadu thrummed upriver, keeping to broad channels instead of short-cuts between islands. This simplified the handling of the cruiser during brief but heavy rainstorms. Biff noted that after each rain the air soon became as humid as before. It was hot at night as well as in the daytime, and while one member of 

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