Chapter XII: Charley Gets a New Crew
CHARLEY stopped the car in front of the camp and jumped nimbly out, followed by the two white men, whom he introduced to the two boys as "Bob Bratten and Will Kitchner, our new engineers." Both were well known to McCarty, and the three were soon busy recalling old times on other jobs where they had worked together. But Walter was chiefly interested in the new men who were climbing out of the car with their suit-cases in their hands.
"Gee, Charley," he whispered, "what kind of crew is this you have brought, a bunch of tourists?"
"They look like it, don't they?" Charley grinned. "But have you forgotten your manners? Can't you say good day to them, at least?"
"Good day, men," said Walter pleasantly, but his greeting was ignored, save by one of the strange men, who had a cast in his left eye and a humorous twist of the mouth. "Good day, _señor_," he said, with a grin. "These men no savey Americano. Me speak Americano plentee. Four years this country. Work plentee on dredges."
"This is Bossie," Charley said, with a smile. "He is going to be one of our firemen and also interpreter." He waved his hand toward the empty tents. "Tell the men to put their things in them and make themselves comfortable, Bossie," he said.
"Spaniards!" exclaimed Walter. "Where in the world did you get hold of them?"
"Miami," said Charley happily. "I got the pick of four hundred of them that had just been laid off from work by the East Coast Railway Co. They have all had experience in this kind of work. There are several firemen among them, and that Bossie could even be trusted to run the machine, I believe. They are the best class of laborers that there is in Florida to-day. They are cleanly, hard-working, contented and ambitious. I've got two good engineers, too. But I must not stand here talking. I had to leave some Spaniards in Jupiter. I could not bring them all on one trip. I told them I'd be right back, so I will have to go. I'll be back with them before dinner."
"Shall we start up the machine?" Walter asked.
"No, wait until I get back. There are some things I want to talk over with all hands first. Here are those parts for the pump. Tell McCarty to have it fixed up this morning, so that we can start up this afternoon. I've got lots to talk over with you and the Captain, but that will have to wait. So long; I'll be back in a couple of hours."
Walter watched the truck out of sight with a grin. "He sure is doing some hustling," he said to himself.
Before noon, Charley was back with the second load of Spaniards, and he also brought a yellow-skinned negro lad of about Chris' size and age. The Spaniards immediately made their way to the tents where their fellow countrymen had already unpacked and changed their fine clothes for overalls and jumpers.
Charley led the little negro to the cook tent, and lifted up the flap. "Here's your assistant, Chris," he said. "I hope he will give you satisfaction." He stepped quickly outside again, but stopped there, with a grin on his face, and beckoned to Walter to listen to the conversation that was going on inside.
"Hello, nigger," Chris was saying. "Where you come from?"
"Bimini," said the other negro meekly.
"Dat's where dey raise de laziest niggers in de world," Chris commented. "What's your name?"
"Sam Roberts," responded the cowed assistant.
"All right, you Sam. You get to work an' set dem tables, 'cause dinner's going to be ready mighty soon. After dinner I'll decide jus' what I wants you to do each day. Get to work dar widout no grumbling. I'se de boss in dis cook tent, an', if you don't do like I says, I'se goin' to gib you a worse lickin' dan youah mammy ebber gib you."
When they were called to dinner later, it was to find the new assistant, shiny-faced from soap and water, serving hot venison steaks and mashed potatoes to both tables, while Chris watched him with a critical eye.
The two new engineers proved to be pleasant, healthy, vigorous, young men, and, before the dinner was over, those at the American table had got well acquainted with each other, while the Spaniards at the next table chattered noisily like a lot of magpies.
"I wish you would all come over to my tent," Charley requested, when the meal was over. "I want to say a few words to you before we start work."
When they had all collected in the little tent, the lad spoke out frankly. "This is rather an uncertain piece of work we are on, friends," he said; "and it largely depends upon you whether we can carry it through. We are pressed for time to complete it, and we have pretty nearly reached the end of our capital. Some unknown enemy is trying to stop or delay the work, for some reason I do not understand. If you will all do your best, I believe we will pull out all right, but it's going to be close work. Two things we must do: keep the machine running, and beware of all strangers. Allow no stranger to come near the machine. McCarty has been longest on this job, so when you are in doubt about anything you can consult him. Now you can fix the watches to suit yourselves and pick your crews."
The question of shifts and crews was quickly settled between the engineers, Bob Bratton taking the first watch, from 12:00 o'clock until 8:00 o'clock at night. From 8:00 P. M. until 4:00 A. M. would be Will Kitchner's watch, while McCarty's trick would be from 4:00 A. M. until noon. This order, they agreed, should be changed each week, so that one man would not have to do all the night work. Each engineer understood some Spanish, and they soon picked out experienced firemen and ground men from among the Spaniards. As soon as all was settled, Bratton, with his crew, left for the machine, and the rest dispersed, to get things settled in their tents and to gain a little rest before it came their turn to go on duty.
As soon as our little party was alone, Walter related to the others the finding of the dynamite under the machine, and the presence of the four convicts in the near neighborhood.
"There's something big going on, but I can't imagine what it is," Charley said gravely.
"I reckon this road building is interfering with someone's plans, or they wouldn't be wanting to stop it," Captain Westfield observed.
"Sure," Walter agreed, "but who is this somebody, and what is his plan that we are interfering with?"
"I expect we will get a clew to that before long," Charley said thoughtfully. "As soon as they see we are going to push things they will likely try to stop us. They got at Murphy through his engineers, apparently. But they can't get at us in that way. In fact, I don't see any way they can get at us, if we are careful and keep a sharp lookout. We've got good engineers, and a good crew, now, and I brought out two extra men, so as to have plenty of help in case of sickness or accident."
"How about those convicts?" Walter asked.
"I'm going in day after to-morrow for the supplies I ordered from Jacksonville, and I'll telegraph the sheriff about them," Charley said promptly. "I guess he will lose no time in recapturing them. In the meantime we will just have to watch out for them, that's all. I guess, Walt, you'd better give up the idea of firing--for a while, at any rate. I'll have to spend most of my time running around, and the Captain will be busy with the graders. It needs someone to keep a sharp lookout for any possible trouble or danger."
"All right," agreed Walter cheerfully. "I'll stay wherever you put me."
Further conversation was interrupted by one long whistle coming from the machine.
"He's got his boiler filled and is ready to start," Charley exclaimed. "Come on; we don't want to miss the start." His three chums were close at his heels, as he hurried out to the machine. Bratton saw them coming, and waited.
"Thought you might like to break a bottle of wine over her before we started," he said, with a grin. He swung the powerful machine around and began to dig.
Our little party watched with admiration the ease and dexterity with which he handled the heavy, panting machine. Each time the big bucket dumped its load of mud in exactly the right spot, as though placed there by hand.
They lounged around the machine the greater part of the afternoon, watching with delight the steady progress being made. Except for brief stops, to take on wood and water, the bucket swung back and forth with the regularity of clockwork.
All the way back to camp Charley was silent. "Captain," he asked finally, "do you think you can handle that grading with three men?"
"I reckon so," said the old sailor. "Why?"
"If you can, I want to put the other two men on as night watchmen to guard the camp."
"Whew!" whistled Walter. "You must be looking for trouble."
"There's nothing like being prepared for it," Charley replied grimly.
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The Boy Chums in the Florida JungleChapter XII: Charley Gets a New Crew
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