Читать книгу The Saint of the Speedway онлайн

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But he shook his head sadly over them when he told how opportunity never came of returning to collect the gold awaiting him. His companion died on the way to Sydney, a victim of the jungle fever, the germs of which had contrived to impregnate him. And he—well, other things came his way and he did not fancy facing the hateful coast alone. Besides, he did very well with the laundry he started in Sydney until he got burnt out, and finally migrated to Alaska. No, he assured them, he would rather dispense ham and eggs at two dollars a time in Beacon Glory than go back for that gold. Besides, his little gambling parlour at the back of his restaurant was not so bad a gold mine.

Well, anyhow, there it was. It was true what he had told them. Every word of it. And if they liked they could have the chart as a present. And when they came back with all the gold they needed, if the jungle fever didn’t get hold of them and they felt like making him a present in return, well, he would very gladly receive it. But, whether they chose to go after it or not, he wanted them to know that the thing he had told them was no fairy story, but the real truth, which was a wholly inadequate illustration of the reality of wealth he had seen there.