Jack Devlin appeared after supper. His manner was contrite and subdued as he sat down by the cot and strongly gripped Walter's sound hand.
"You and I were sort of disorganized there in the Cut," said he. "I had no chance to find out how things have been breaking for you. Have you landed a job? What about it?"
Walter ruefully related the story of his pilgrimage. At the episode of the parrot and broomstick, the steam-shovel man violently interrupted:
"General Quesada? I know who he is—a gambler, and a grafter, and a fake soldier. He trimmed some friends of mine, but never mind that. He is a large, fat, false alarm. Forget him."
When informed of the base-ball episode, he shook his head disapprovingly.
"You ought to have given Culebra first chance at you," he expostulated. "Maybe we could have found you a job. I am catcher of the Culebra nine, do you see?"
"I'd rather be fireman of a steam-shovel than anything else in the world," Walter eagerly exclaimed.
"You will not be fit to handle a shovel or a base-ball for some time, my boy. We will not let it come between us, but I'm sorry you tied up with those low-browed pirates at Cristobal. Need any money? Want to write a letter home?"
"I am all right for the present, Mr. Devlin. And I think I'll wait a day or so before writing the folks."
"You told me when we met on the ship that you were anxious to give your father a lift. It made a great hit with me. What about that?"