CHAPTER XXV. A JUNGLE HOTEL.

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The hostelry was divided into half a dozen rooms walled with bamboo, and all on the ground floor. Rough mats of cocoanut cloth alone interposed between the sleepers and the ground, and cockroaches and singing lizards abounded. But by this time the lads had become pretty well used to the night noises of the jungle, which are far more tumultuous after dark than in the day-time, and as for the hard beds, they were too tired to mind much where they slept.

Jack had not slept long when he was awakened by someone calling to him. It was Muldoon. The Irishman was plainly agitated by some excitement as he stood in the grass-curtained door-way.

“Whist!” he exclaimed, holding a finger to his lips, “is thot you Misther Riddy?”“Yes, what’s the trouble, Muldoon?”

“Shure o’ive made a discovery, sor.”

“What?”

“Thot other party. Ther ones you was tiligraphing about.”

“Well, what about them?”

“They’re here, begob.”

“Where, in the hotel?”

“No, in the woods back of the house.”

“Camping there?”

“No, bejabbers. There’s something looks queer to me about the whole thing, that’s why I called yez. They’ve sent for the Dago that runs this shabeen, sor.”

“Maybe they want to get accommodations?”

“Thin why wouldn’t they stip up like min and ask for ’em?” was Muldoon’s unanswerable retort.

Just then Mr. Jukes, rubbing his eyes sleepily, appeared in the door-way. Behind him stood the giant negress. The millionaire had evidently dressed hastily.

“I’ve got news, Ready,” he exclaimed in a rather excited voice. “This woman has just told me that her husband wants to see me outside. I gathered it’s on some matter connected with my brother.”

“Yassir,” grinned the hideous negress, showing a double row of sharply filed teeth, “dat’s it, sah. It’s 'bout yo’ brudder.”

Raynor had awakened by this time and was sitting up on his mat listening sleepily. He eyed the woman narrowly as she spoke and an uneasy conviction entered his mind that all was not well.

“You’d better be cautious, sir,” warned Jack, who also felt an undeniable feeling of suspicion, “something may be wrong.”

“What can be wrong,” demanded Mr. Jukes, rather impatiently. “I’m going outside to see. If it’s about my brother it’s my duty to do so at once.”

“Then if you’re going I’ll go with you,” said Jack, hastily throwing on the garments he had divested himself of, and strapping on his revolver.

“And begorrah o’i second the motion,” declared Muldoon.

“Wait a moment for me,” begged Billy.

“No, stay here,” said Jack. “If anything goes wrong, I’ll fire three shots.”

A minute later, followed by the native woman, the three left the place. As they reached the door she took the lead and conducted them through a bamboo grove to a thick growth of trees under which her husband and a big man with black beard were conversing.

“You wish to see me?” asked Mr. Jukes, addressing the bearded one.

“Yes; zees gentleman say zat 'e ave good news for you,” said the landlord, spreading his hands.“Begorrah, oi don’t see no gintilmin here excipt oursilves,” muttered Muldoon.

“Muldoon, be quiet,” ordered Mr. Jukes, then turning to the black-bearded man he went on with, “Well, sir, what is it you wish?”

“You are Mr. Jukes?” asked the other, in a deep, gruff voice.

“I am, what of it?”

“I want to see you. I have news for you.”

“But—but I don’t know you. Why didn’t you come to the hotel if you had anything to say to me?” asked the millionaire in a puzzled way.

“I wanted to talk to you in private about your brother,” was the reply.

“My brother! Why, we are searching for him now. That is the reason of our presence in the jungle. Do you know anything about him?”

“I do. It was he who sent me here.”

“Jerushah sent you?” the millionaire was fairly amazed now. “He is then alive?”

“Yes, but he is a prisoner and very sick. Through natives he heard of the arrival of your expedition and sent me even at this hour to bring you to him.”

“That is a strange story, my man,” said Mr. Jukes suspiciously. “I might say it is almost incredible.”

“I’ll admit it does sound strange,” said the other, “but strange things happen in this part of the world. I might add that the other Mr. Jukes wants to see you alone. Something about a pearl, I believe.”

Jack gave a tug at Mr. Jukes’ sleeve. The lad had been peering about him through the dark trees and had seen something the others had not. If his eyes had not deceived him, and Jack did not believe they had, several forms were moving about in the gloom beneath the interlaced branches.

“Mr. Jukes,” he whispered, “I don’t believe this man. I think we are in some sort of a trap. Why didn’t he come to the house with this cock-and-bull story?”

Mr. Jukes hesitated. It was strange that this man of great affairs, before whom board meetings quailed, and who ruled almost supreme among the great money kings of New York, appeared to be lost now that he was out of his little world and among the great elemental things of the untraveled jungle.

“I’m sure I don’t know, Ready,” he replied.

“Ask him,” suggested Jack, with his hand on his revolver. He felt that a crisis of some sort was at hand, but it was too late to retreat now.

Mr. Jukes, with some of his old pomposity, put the question. The bearded man’s reply was brief and to the point.

“That is beside the question,” he snapped. “Are you coming with me?”

Before any reply could be made the bearded man’s eye caught the glint of Jack’s weapon. Instantly a shrill whistle sounded. From the trees leaped a dozen or more men.

“Howly saints! A trap!” yelled Muldoon.

“A trap!” echoed Jack. He raised his pistol to cover the black-bearded man. But before he had it leveled both he and Mr. Jukes were thrown from their feet by a combined attack and in a twinkling both the millionaire and the boy were helpless.

“Run for the house, Muldoon. Warn the others. Come after us as quick as you can.”

“Hold your horses there,” roared the black-bearded man, who, as our readers will have guessed, was ‘Bully’ Broom himself, with his band of renegade followers. He tried to block the boatswain’s path as Muldoon darted off.

Biff, the old seaman’s knotted fist shot out and caught the redoubtable ‘Bully’ between his eyes. He staggered but did not fall.

“Take that, you murtherin’ spalpeen,” shouted Muldoon, as he darted off among the trees and was speedily lost to sight. Three or four of the band pursued him, but ‘Bully’ Broom called them back.

“We’ve got the fellows we want,” he said; “bind and gag them and if they show fight don’t be too gentle with them.”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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