Brandon of the Engineers

"I tried to find you when I got better after being stabbed," he said. "I

don't quite see why you came to my help."

Payne grinned sourly. "You certainly hadn't much of a claim; but you were

a white man and that dago meant to kill. Now if I'd held my job with

Fuller and you hadn't dropped on to Oliva's game, I'd have made my little

pile; but I allow you had to fire us when something put you wise."

"I see," said Dick, with a smile at the fellow's candor. "Well, I

couldn't trust you with the cement again, but we're short of a man to

superintend a peon gang and I'll talk to Mr. Stuyvesant about it if

you'll tell me your address."

Payne gave him a fixed, eager look. "You get me the job and take me out

of this and you won't be sorry. I'll make it good to you--and I reckon I

can."

Dick, who thought the other's anxiety to escape from his degrading

occupation had prompted his last statement, turned away, saying he would

see what could be done, and in the evening visited Stuyvesant. Bethune

was already with him, and Dick told them how he had found Payne.

"You felt you had to promise the fellow a job because he butted in when

the dagos got after you?" Stuyvesant suggested.

"No," said Dick with some embarrassment, "it wasn't altogether that. He

certainly did help me, but I can't pass my obligations on to my employer.

If you think he can't be trusted, I'll pay his passage to another port."

"Well, I don't know that if I had the option I'd take the fellow out of

jail, so long as he was shut up decently out of sight; but this is worse,

in a way. What do you think, Bethune?"

Bethune smiled. "You ought to know. I'm a bit of a philosopher, but when

you stir my racial feelings I'm an American first. The mean white's a

troublesome proposition at home, but we can't afford to exhibit him to

the dagos here." He turned to Dick. "That's our attitude, Brandon, and

though you were not long in our country, you seem to sympathize with it.

I don't claim it's quite logical, but there it is! We're white and

different."

"Do you want me to hire the man?" Stuyvesant asked with an impatient

gesture.

"Yes," said Dick.

"Then put him on. If he steals anything, I'll hold you responsible and

ship him out on the next cement boat, whether he wants to go or not."

Next morning Dick sent word to Payne, who arrived at the dam soon

afterwards and did his work satisfactorily. On the evening of the first

pay-day he went to Santa Brigida, but Dick, who watched him in the

morning, noted somewhat to his surprise, that he showed no signs of

dissipation. When work stopped at noon he heard a few pistol shots, but

was told on inquiring that it was only one or two of the men shooting at

a mark. A few days afterwards he found it necessary to visit Santa

Brigida. Since Bethune confined his talents to constructional problems

and languidly protested that he had no aptitude for commerce, much of the

company's minor business gradually fell into Dick's hands. As a rule, he

went to the town in the evening, after he had finished at the dam. While

a hand-car was being got ready to take him down the line, Payne came up

to the veranda, where Dick sat with Jake.