"Plenty sick, señor," said the sufferer. "Plenty not all the time. No can work to-day. Work to-morrow, maybe."
"Don't you worry about the work," said the lad kindly. "I go to town this morning, get doctor. He will make you well pretty quick."
"Thanks, señor," said the man gratefully.
"It looks to me like a case of jungle fever," the lad said as he joined the Captain.
"It's working in that nasty mud all the time that has made him sick," the old sailor declared. "The hot sun burning down on that foul muck is enough to make an alligator sick. It don't bother me much, for I get off to one side and keep out of it. It's hardest on the ground men and the graders. They are in it all the time. They don't complain any, but I notice they are getting sores all over their legs from standing in it. It would not surprise me if more of them came down before long."
"I hope not," Charley said fervently. "We are in enough trouble as it is. I am going in and get a doctor for him this morning. You can take out one of the guards with you to take Meticas' place."
As soon as he had eaten breakfast, the lad took the truck and started for town. By noon he was back in camp again.
"Gosh, you made a quick trip," Walter commented.
"I didn't go to town," Charley said dejectedly. "Two miles from here is as far as I could get with the truck."