at the
treasure was a reality--at least that such a chest existed on the old
ship. When you get into the contents of the chest, however, you find
only a maze of conflicting rumors. To me they tend to make the story as
a whole even more interesting--and I'll confess I'd love to know what
was in that chest.

"Well, the _Arganil_ broke to pieces off the west coast of Florida, not
more than twenty miles from here. That fact can not be doubted. There
are accounts of the wreck on official record. And legend has it that
through Heaven knows what wickedness and bloodshed and cunning, the two
Jason brothers not only managed to get off in the stoutest of the ship's
boats, but that they carried the treasure with them.

"If there were any other members of the crew in the boat with them they
were unquestionably murdered. Nothing was ever heard of them again. The
two brothers are said to have landed somewhere close to this lagoon.

"But naked treasure breeds murder! It is a strange thing, Killdare, but
the naked, yellow metal, as well as glittering jewels, gets home to
human wickedness as nothing else in the world can. If that chest had
been full of valuable securities, even paper currency, it wouldn't have
left such a red trail from Rio to Florida. Gold and jewels waken a fever
of possession out of all proportion to their actual value. When they
landed on the shore one of the Jasons neatly murdered the other and made
off with the chest.

"The same old yarn--Cain and Abel, Romulus and Remus. Killdare, did
you know that fratricide is shockingly common? There are three kinds
of brothers, and the Jasons were simply one of the three kinds.
Sometimes you find brothers that love each other beyond belief, with a
self-sacrificing devotion that is beautiful to see. Then you find the
great mass of brothers--liking each other fairly well, loyal in a family
scrap, fair pals but much closer to other pals that aren't their
brothers. Then you come to this third class, a puzzle to psychologists
the world over! Brothers that hate each other like poison snakes.

"Why is it, Killdare? Jealousy? A survival from the beast? These were
the kind of brothers that go through life bitter and hating and at
swords' points. And all too often they get to the killing stage."

"You find it in the beast-world, too," I commented. "Look at the case
of the wolves and the dogs. They are blood-brothers, drop for drop--and
they hate each other with a fervor that is s