The burly fellow pushed his pole beneath the man, and by sheer strength lifted him clear out of the water. He held him there for a little while, casting choice expressions at him, then he cast him back into the water, as if the native were some species of fish for which Tom had no use whatever.
"Lucky him swim so well," he laughed. "Tom almost sorry he not kill um. Not so sure dat blackguard not de one who shoot and hit him hand."
"Nonsense!" cried Jim. "Nothing of the sort. That man was aboard the steamer. Stand out of the way, Tom! I think we may take it easily."
There was, in fact, no longer any reason for haste; therefore Jim slowed down his motor. They cruised slowly across the lagoon, and lay close to its exit. There, with the help of the kit of tools carried aboard, and a strip of tinned iron cut from a biscuit box, our hero effected a temporary repair to the water jacket, soldering the patch into position. It was a triumphant crew which returned to Colon, for the Major was himself again, and their duty was accomplished.
CHAPTER XII
An American Undertaking
"I never did meet such a fellow as you, Jim Partington," cried Phineas Barton, when our hero and his comrades turned up at the house situated above the huge dam of Gatun, in progress of building. "No, never before. You get introduced to me after a likely enough adventure. Perhaps I ought to say that I was introduced to you; reckon anyway our meeting was as strange as one might imagine, and there was no end of excitement in it. You behaved like a plucky young beggar."
Jim went very red at once. "I thought we weren't to hear anything more about that," he said bluntly. "That was our agreement."
But Phineas only grinned at him. "Agreement or no agreement," he said seriously, "there are times when a chap has just got to sit down and listen. Reckon that time is here now, and you're the chap. I was saying, when you interrupted me—ahem!—that you were a beggar for adventures. You come to my house, do one day's solid work, and then get gallivanting off with an exploration party. Of course, being fired at in the meanwhile and the ruction you had with those rascals down at the hut above Colon is nothing—just a kind of act between supper and breakfast, as it were. Now there's this launch expedition, and there's Tomkins—a surly sort of fellow, who don't often open his mouth, and then not always to be pleasant; there's this policeman, with the Major, his commanding officer, singing your praises down at the club, till the boys are jest jumping to get a grip at you. Time supper's ended to-night you've got to come right along there with me; and, jest remember this, they ain't got an agreement with you."