Ponce de Leon's
Fountain of Youth, a plot of land in perpetual sun, where crops grow
without work or worry, big land profits, easy money, something for
nothing--the lure is as innate and potent as the eternal lure of gold!
At breakfast the rumor began to spread somehow that something had
happened, and the trip up the river to the colony would have to be
delayed a few hours. Then it was rumored that the delay would be a
day, two days; it was dangerous to go upstream; it was impossible. It
was doubtful if the trip could be made for a long time.
Granger was very busy and concerned, flying about the boat, off it and
on again; his brow wrinkled, his lips compressed with determination.
"Anything gone wrong, Mr. Granger?"
"Nothing to speak of, brother. I'll get it straightened out. Do not
worry, brother."
"Ain't worryin' 'tall, long's you're in charge, Mr. Granger."
The women on board began to feel sorry for Mr. Granger, the way he was
rushing and worrying about for them.
"Yes, Granger's all right. He'll do the best any one can by us."
More and more Granger rushed; more and more his countenance became
marked with the lines of deep concern. He was heard the length of the
boat in protest to some news imparted by the captain.
"But I tell you we must go up to-day, Captain Sayles.
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