Naughton and Harrison grinned at each other as they marched to the side of the field and escorted Walter with great pomp of manner. The abashed pitcher wiped his dripping face and heard Major Glendinning say to him:
"You had better not think of leaving Cristobal just now. It is the best place in the Zone. When you are through with Naughton and his infernal cargo, come and see me in my office, if he doesn't blow you sky-high in the meantime. And don't forget that I expect you to win that next game against Culebra."
He wheeled his horse sharply and trotted from the field, leaving Walter to gaze after him with a dazed, foolish smile. Harrison thumped him on the back and jubilantly shouted:
"Wasn't that easy? What did we tell you?"
"But do you honestly think he has any intention of giving me a job on the gold roll?" tremulously implored Walter, whose emotions were in a state of tumult.
"Sure thing," said Naughton. "He can always find a place for a young fellow with the right stuff in him."
"'A husky young fellow with the right stuff in him,'" echoed Walter. The familiar words had come home to roost.
"He will start you in at seventy-five per month"—this was from Harrison—"and you will have to earn it. Base-ball cuts no figure with the major in business hours."
"Your conscience can rest easy on that score," added Naughton. "No danger of your cheating Uncle Sam."
"An honest pull is the noblest work of man," declaimed Harrison, and this seemed to sum up the whole matter.