out governments."

"Princes? Say, feller, there's many a dog that's took better care of
than some of our boys back home!"

"So I thought. The income from a couple of millions, along with some of
the principal, will do a lot of good if used right. And--" His eyes
turned to the three bushmen.

"Do not look at us in that way," said Lourenco, reading his thought. "We
can make all the money we need, and we came with the capitao and his
comrades only because we wanted excitement. Use your money for the
crippled men who need it."

"And Jose Martinez also is well able to provide for his wants," coolly
added the other naked man. "I am here only to settle old scores, and now
they are settled. Each man is goaded by his own spur--money, wine,
women, excitement, revenge. Money is not mine."

He yawned, arose, stretched like a cat, and stepped toward his hammock.
The two Brasilians also moved toward the _tambo_. The others stood a
moment longer beside the fire.

"Well, since we three didn't come here because of wine, women, or
revenge," Knowlton said, whimsically, "it must have been for money and
excitement. Don't know which was the stronger lure, but if we could have
only one of the two I think we'd let the money slide. How about it,
Rod?"

"Right! And, Rand, let me say this: Before we knew you we had an
impression that you were more or less of a worthless pup. We've changed
our ideas. If you ever go broke and want to hit a trail into some new
place to make a strike of your own, and you need partners, let us know."

And he held out his hand.

The naked millionaire took it. For the first time a faint smile
lightened his face.

"I'll do that, partners!" he promised.

"Yeah! That's the word. Pardners! Only, li'l' Timmy Ryan bucks at ever
travelin' back into this here, now, Ja-va-ree jungle. I got enough of
it. Right now I'm homesick."

"So say we all," affirmed Knowlton. "Now let's turn in."

But Tim stood a little longer looking out at the moonlit river and the
two waiting canoes. His gaze roved along the stream, northward. He
lifted his head, opened his mouth, expanded his lungs, and then the
astounded denizens of forest and stream cut short their discordant
concert to listen to something they never had heard before and never
would hear again--a great voice thundering a censored version of a North
American army song.

"Home, boys, home! Home we want to be!
Home, boys, home, in God's countree!
We'll rai