The men flagged, as the sun got higher, and at length Dick sat down in the thin shade of a tree. The light was now intense, the curving dam gleamed a dazzling pearly-gray through a quivering radiance, and the water that had gathered behind it shone like molten silver. One could imagine that the pools reflected heat as well as light. Dick’s eyes ached, and for a few minutes he let them rest upon the glossy, green jungle, and the belts of cultivation down the hill.
Then he roused himself, because he must watch what was going on. The great blocks must be properly fitted into place, and one could not trust the dusky laborers to use the care that was needed; besides, they were getting slack, and the fresh blocks the locomotives brought would soon begin to accumulate. Since this would mean extra handling and consequent expense, the track must be kept clear. Still, Dick wished noon would come, for his head ached badly and he felt the heat as he had not felt it before.
It was hard to force himself to begin again after the short mid-day rest, but he became a little more vigorous as the sun sank and the shadow of the black cordillera lengthened across the valley. After dinner, when he lounged on the veranda, the headache and lassitude returned, and he listened to Jake’s talk vacantly and soon went to bed. He knew he was not well, but while malarial fever was not unusual in the neighborhood people seldom took it in a virulent form, and as there was a good doctor at Santa Brigida he determined to consult him when he had occasion to visit the town. As it happened, a crane broke next day, and when evening came he set off to inquire if new castings could be made for it in the Spanish foundry. While he waited for an engine to take him down the line, Jake announced his intention of coming.
“I’ve never been round a Spanish town,” he said.
“You’re not going round a Spanish town now, if I can prevent it,” Dick rejoined. “However, I suppose I can’t order you off your father’s locomotive.”
Jake smiled. “You can resent my taking the line you hint at when I’ve done so, but I guess one must make allowances. You’re getting the fever badly, partner.”
“It’s the heat,” Dick answered in an apologetic tone. “Anyhow, Santa Brigida’s a dirty, uninteresting place.”
“I expect your ideas of what’s interesting are different from mine. Concrete’s all right in the daytime, though you can have too much of it then, but you want to please your eye and relax your brain at night.”
“I was afraid of something of the kind. But here’s the locomotive. Get up, if you’re coming.”
Dick was silent as the engine jolted down the track, for he was feverish and his companion’s talk irritated him. Besides, he had promised Ida Fuller to take care of the lad and knew something of the license that ruled in the city. Jake seemed to claim the supposititious privileges of the artistic temperament, and there were wine-shops, gamblers, pretty Creole girls with easy manners, and ragged desperados who carried knives, in Santa Brigida. In fact, it offered too many opportunities for romantic adventures. In consequence, Dick went to the Hotel Magellan, which they reached after walking from the end of the line, and took Jake into the bar.