Seeing no prospect of advance in his position, Jack was beginning to think of seeking his fortune elsewhere, when his whole future life was changed into a different groove by the appearance of a stranger at the place where he was working.
The newcomer was a Peruvian, who had been an engineer on a railroad running through the southern part of Peru, but had left to come to Tocopilla.
He and Jack soon became friends, when the latter said to him one day:
“What was the trouble with engineering, that you should leave to come here, where you can’t begin to get the pay you did there?”
“The pay was good enough, but the shooting was better. I care more for my life than I do for a few silver doubloons.”
“I am afraid I do not understand you. I was not aware that shooting and engineering went together.”
“They do in the case of the St. Resa road, Jack.”
“Tell me about it, Francis. I am interested.”
“Then I can take out that interest shortly. The road runs through debatable ground from St. Resa to de la Pama. Not an inch of it but what is being hotly contested. But it isn’t the regulars that make the trouble, for at present the territory belongs to Peru, though how soon she will lose it is not for me to say. It’s the murderous bush-raiders that are making the trouble.”
“Who are the bush-raiders?”