CHAPTER II THE PARROT AND THE BROOMSTICK
The steamer Saragossa was sliding across a tropic sea where the trade-wind blew cool and steady to temper the blazing sun, the flying-fish skittered from the lazy swells like flights of silver arrows, and the stars by night seemed very bright and near. On the shady side of the promenade deck a boyish-looking member of the crew was scrubbing rust spots from the planking with a certain gusto which distinguished him from the so-called seamen, who were a sorry lot. The rough company and bullying usages of the forecastle had not dismayed Walter Goodwin, who forgot discomfort in the thought that, day by day, he was nearing the magical Isthmus. His parents' consent had been won and this was his great chance.
By far the most interesting passenger was the soldierly gentleman with the close-cropped white hair, the quiet voice, and pleasant smile who walked the deck with the vigor of youth. This was actually Colonel Gunther himself, chief engineer of the Canal, chairman of the Isthmian Commission, master of forty thousand workers, the man who had made a success of the gigantic task after others had failed.
"We folks think he is the biggest man in the world," a quarter-master's clerk told Walter. "He just holds the whole job together. You can feel him from one end of the Zone to the other. Whenever he goes to the States, it seems as if the organization began to wobble a mite."
"But he is as courteous and kind to everybody on board as if he didn't amount to shucks," was Walter's comment. "Why, he even says 'Good-morning' to me!"
It happened on this day that Colonel Gunther halted near the industrious Walter and his scrubbing-brush. Several children tagged after him, and he was telling them a most fascinating story about a giant so enormous that he could dig a Panama Canal with a poke of his finger and then drink it dry at one gulp. Presently the audience scampered off to view a distant ship, and Colonel Gunther conversed with one of his staff. They discussed problems of their work, and Walter was guilty of dawdling, but, alas, what he overheard came as a shock that filled him with uneasy forebodings.
"The organization has been at last recruited to its full working strength," said the Colonel. "It begins to look as if the hardest part of the job had been accomplished—to get enough good men and keep them."
"I presume the news will be published in the States," observed the other. "It would be a pity to have any more Americans coming down on the chance of finding places."
"Yes, notification was to be sent out from Washington this week. There are plenty of tropical tramps and beach-combers in Colon and Panama without adding to the number."