The Hero of Panama: A Tale of the Great Canal

by F. S. Brereton

"I'm shaking hands with myself," declared the official who had offered him a post at Gorgona. "You men down here needn't think that you're going to have young Partington all to yourselves. A fortnight to-day he'll be a Gorgona man, when we'll send you invitations to our concerts."

There was a shout at that, a shout denoting some displeasure. Phineas Barton rose from his chair, his fractured arm swathed and bandaged and slung before him, and regarded the official triumphantly. "Not a bit of it, siree," he said. "Jim's my lodger. Don't matter whether he works along here at Gatun or way over there at Culebra or Gorgona, he jest comes home every night of the week. The Commission's jest got to pass him a free ticket, and ef he's in a concert, why, guess it'll be here, and the folks at Gorgona will be the ones to be invited."

There was a roar of laughter at the sally, and Jim was called upon for a second song. Modestly enough he gave it too; for such open praise as had been bestowed upon him is not always good for a lad of his age, and might well be expected to turn the heads of many. Our hero had his failings without doubt, and we should not be recording truly if we did not allow the fact, but a swelled head was not one of the ailments he was wont to suffer from. So far his friends and acquaintances had never known Jim Partington to be too big for the boots he stood up in.

"Which is jest one of the things that made me take to him right away from the first," said Phineas, when discussing the matter that same evening with the police officer who had been in command of the launch expedition. "He ain't bumptious, Major. He's jest a lively young fellow, full of sense and grit, and I tell you, if there's one lad here in the zone who's made up his mind to make a job of the canal, it's Jim. He's fixed it that he's going to rise in the world, and if nothing unforeseen happens we shall find him well up the ladder one of these days, and making a fine living."

They called Jim over to them, where they were seated at a small table in one corner, and at once the Major gripped our hero's hand, while he acknowledged that he felt wonderfully better. His head was heavily bandaged, for the bullet which had struck him had caused a nasty gash in the scalp.

"Not that it did any great harm," laughed the Major. "They tell me that there was tremendous swelling at first, but the blood which escaped from the wound brought that down wonderfully; but I admit that at first I felt that my head was as big as a pumpkin. How's your own wound?"

Jim had forgotten all about it, though on his arrival that morning he had taken the precaution to have it dressed. But it was already partially healed, and caused him not the slightest inconvenience.

"I think I had the best of the matter altogether," he answered, "for though up there on the river I was unable to distinguish the man who began all this business by firing at me, yet both were hit, and I fancy pretty badly."

"You can count them as almost wiped out completely," agreed the Major. "But I have serious news to give you regarding the other three. During our absence Jaime de Oteros and his comrades broke out of prison and made good their escape. The scoundrels are once more free to carry on any form of rascality. Of course I have sent trackers after them; but the latest news is that they have disappeared into the bush, and pursuit there is almost hopeless. I own I'm vexed, for there is never any knowing what such men may be up to. A Spaniard with a grudge to work off is always a dangerous individual."

The information of the escape of the prisoners was indeed of the most serious moment, and Jim and his friends were yet to learn the truth of the words that the Major had spoken. For Jaime de Oteros had indeed a grudge, and with all the unreasonableness of men of his violent disposition he had already determined in his own mind that our hero Jim was the cause of all his troubles. He brushed aside the fact that one of his ruffianly comrades had most deliberately attempted murder, and that the effort made to capture the offender was but a natural reprisal. That effort had led to the discovery of the gang and its break-up, and in Jaime's eyes our hero was the culprit. He swore as he lay in prison to take vengeance upon him, while he did not forget his animosity towards the police officials.