Mr. Jones spoke with an air of finality. The ability to look ahead and forecast the outcome of things had in a large measure placed him on the pinnacle of success he occupied. But for once, and in spite of carefully arranged plans, he was doomed to disappointment. For the son possessed all the advantage; he was entering with unbounded enthusiasm a field for which he had prepared himself, however slightly, and of which he therefore had some knowledge, while the father was making predictions as to the outcome of affairs of which he knew nothing. CHAPTER III THE AMAZON Early the next morning David became aware of the fact that he had embarked on a stormy voyage. The ship rolled and pitched in an alarming manner. He could hear the shrieking and moaning of the wind and feel the vessel tremble as the waves struck the steel sides with a muffled roar. At first he did not know just what to make of it, so he groped for the switch and turned on the light. Rogers was sleeping soundly in the berth below. There was no one stirring on deck or in the passageway, so he came to the conclusion that a storm was not an unusual occurrence and that everyone took it as a matter of fact, so he snapped off the light. But it was far from comfortable, this rolling and tossing, and sleep was impossible. Daylight soon came, however, and with it the bustle and sound of voices on deck incident to life aboard ship. “Going down to breakfast?” Rogers enquired, holding to a hand-rail with one hand while he calmly shaved with the other. He seemed to mind not at all the lurching of the boat. “I guess not; I don’t feel hungry,” David replied in a weak voice. “Sick?” “A little. It’s not so bad while I lie still; but when I try to get up my head spins.” “Never mind. It will soon pass. Better have a cup of coffee; then you will feel better. I’ll ring for the steward.” “No, don’t. Please, let’s talk about something else; anything but food. Will the storm last long?” “It may clear up later. If it gets calmer come out for a walk on deck. The fresh air is a good tonic,” and he strode out of the room. But the storm did not subside. It lasted two whole days and three nights. By that time David was so ill he was compelled to remain in his berth another full day to recuperate sufficiently to venture out. The fresh air and the bright sunshine on the upper deck worked wonders. Added to these, long walks back and forth, a few games of shuffleboard and an occasional dip in the ship’s swimming tank soon restored his good health and usual cheerful manner. “You expect to work on a ranch in Brazil, eh?” Rogers commented one morning as they leaned over the rail to watch the flyingfish startled by the prow of the boat as she cut her way through the glassy water. “I not only expect to but I am going to,” David returned promptly. “How long are you going to stay?” “A long, long time. In fact, I haven’t thought of going back. I had better get there first.”