Brandon of the Engineers - Page 36/199

In the meantime, he went to Fuller's tent twice a week and generally met

Ida there. Once or twice, he pleaded with his employer for extra labor

and cement to add some grace of outline to the dam, and, although this

was unproductive expenditure, Fuller agreed.

"I like a good job, but it's going to cost high if you mean to turn out a

work of art," he said. "However, if Bethune thinks the notion all right,

I suppose I'll have to consent."

Dick colored, and wondered whether he had been given a hint, for Bethune

was his superior and a man of ability.

"He doesn't object, sir."

"That's good," Fuller replied with a twinkle. "Still, if you hustle him

too much, you'll make him tired."

Dick did not smile, because he did not know how far it was wise to go,

but he suspected that Bethune had been tired before he came to the dam.

The latter was generally marked by an air of languid indifference, and

while his work was well done he seldom exceeded his duty.

Next evening Dick went to see Bethune and found him lying in a hammock

hung between the posts of the veranda of his galvanized iron hut. A

syphon and a tall glass filled with wine in which a lump of ice floated,

stood on a table within his reach, and an open book lay upside down upon

the floor. He wore white duck trousers, a green shirt of fine material,

and a red sash very neatly wound round his waist. His face was sunburned,

but the features were delicately cut and his hands, which hung over the

edge of the hammock, were well cared for.

"Mix yourself a drink," he said to Dick. "There's a glass and some ice in

the bureau inside. Anyhow my steward boy put some there."

Dick, who went into the hut, came back with a grin. "There's a bit of wet

blanket, but the ice has gone. It seems to have run into your papers."

"They'll dry," Bethune said tranquilly. "You had better put some of the

gaseosa in the wine; it's sour Spanish tinto. Then if you like to

pick up the book, I'll read you some François Villon. There was red

blood in that fellow and it's a pity he's dead. You get into touch with

him better beside the Spanish Main than you can in New York."

"I never heard of him, and perhaps I ought to explain----"

"What you came for? Then go ahead and ease your mind. It's business first

with you."

"It occurred to me that I had perhaps taken too much upon myself now and

then. You are my chief, of course, and I don't want to look pushing."