Free trader-journal. (Ottawa, Ill.) 1916-1920, 1919-08-01
Book !.
CHAPTER !.

introduces the Secretary Of tn. Treas-
ury Of His erIthnnie MaJesty's Gov
ernment at Nassau, New Provi.
denee, Bahama ;lslands.
During the summer Of 1903 I was
paying what must have seemed like an
interminable visit to my old friend
John Saunders. who at that time filled
with becoming dignity the high-sound-
ing office Of secretary Of the treasury
Of his majesty's government, In the
quaint little town Of Nassau. in the
island OF New Providence. one Of
those Bahama islands that lie half
lost to the world to the southeast of
the Caribbean sea and form a some
what neglected portion Of the British
West Indies.
Time was when they had sounding
name for themselves In the world /;
when the now sleepy little harbOr
gave shelter to rousing freebOOters
and tarry pirates, Gearing In there un-
der full sail with their loot from the
Spanish Main.
But those heroic days are gone. and
Nassau Is given up to a sleepy trade
in sponges and tortoise shell. and
peace is no name for the drOwsy tenor
Of the days under the palm trees and
the scarlet poincianas.
Here a handful of Englishmen.
clothed in the white linen suits of
hn frnvlfoc thn
after the traditional manner Of Brit
ish colonies from time immemorial,
each Of them like my friend, not with
out an English smile at the humOr Of
the thing, supporting the dignity of
offices with impressive names-lord
chief justice, attorney general, speak
er Of the house. lord high admiral.
colonial secretary and SO forth.
My friend the secretary OF the
treasury is man possessing In an un-
common degree that rare and most at
tractive Of human qualities, cOmpan-
Condolences. AS we sit together In the
hush OF his snuggery Of an evening,
surrounded by guns. fishing lines and
old prints. there are times when we
scarcely exchange a dozen words be
tween dinner and bedtime, and yet
we have all the time keen and Sat
isfying sense Of companionship. 1t is
John Saunders gift. COmpaniOnship
seems quietly to ooze out Of him,
without the need Of words.
And occasionally we have as third
In those evening conclaves Il big. slow.
smiling, broad-faced young merchant
Of the same kidney. In he drops with
a nod and n smile, and takes his place
In the smoke cloud Of our meditat ions,
radiating without the effort of speech
that good thlng-humanity; though
one must not forget the one subject
on which now and again the good
Charlie Webster achieves eloquence
In spite OF himSelf-duck shooting.
John Saunders subject Is shark
fishing. Duck shooting and shark
fishing. 1t is enough. Here. for SEN
slbe men, is Il sufficient basis for life
long friendship, and unwearying. in.
exhaustible companionship.
It was In this peace Of John Saun.
dcrs' snuggery one July evening in
1903, the three of us being duly met
and ensconccd in our respective arm
chairs. that we got onto the subject
Of buried treasure. 1t was who start
ed us off by asking John what he
knew about buried treasure.
At this John laughed his funny little
quiet laugh Buried treasure! he
said; "well. have little doubt that
the islands are full Of tiff one only
knew how to get at It,"
"SerlOusly?" | asked.
"Certainly. Why not? Weren't
these islands for nearly three centu.
ries the stamping ground of all the
pirates Of the Spanish Main? Morgan
was here. Blackboard was here. The
very governors themselves were little
better than pirates This room we are
sitting in was the den Of one Of the
biggest rogucs of them all--John Tin.
ker--the governor when Bruce was
here building Fort Montague at the
east end yonder; building It against
n!rates. and little else bpt pirates ut
(Coutiuued op Pags 1ix,)