Brandon of the Engineers

Bethune began to talk about the alterations a contractor wished to make,

and by and by there was a patter of feet and a hum of voices in the dark.

The voices grew louder and sounded angry as the steps approached the

house, and Stuyvesant pushed back his chair.

"It's Jose's or Pancho's breeds come to claim that their time is wrong. I

suppose one couldn't expect that kind of crowd to understand figures, but

although François' accounts are seldom very plain, he's not a grafter."

Then a native servant entered hurriedly.

"They all come, señor," he announced. "Pig tief say Fransoy rob him and

he go casser office window." He turned and waved his hand threateningly

as a big man in ragged white clothes came into the light. "Fuera, puerco

ladron!"

The man took off a large palm-leaf hat and flourished it with ironical

courtesy.

"Here is gran escandolo, señores. La belle chose, verdad! Me I have

trent' dollar; the grand tief me pay----"

Stuyvesant signed to the servant. "Take them round to the back corral; we

can't have them on the veranda." Then he turned to Dick. "You and Bethune

must convince them that the time-sheets are right; you know more about

the thing than I do. Haven't you been helping François, Fuller?"

"I'm not a linguist," Jake answered with a grin. "When they talk French

and Spanish at once it knocks me right off my height, as François

sometimes declares."

They all went round to the back of the house, where Bethune and Dick

argued with the men. The latter had been dismissed and while ready to go

wanted a grievance, though some honestly failed to understand the

deductions from their wages. They had drawn small sums in advance, taken

goods out of store, and laid off now and then on an unusually hot day,

but the amount charged against them was larger than they thought. For all

that, Bethune using patience and firmness pacified them, and after a time

they went away satisfied while the others returned to the veranda.

"Arguing in languages you don't know well is thirsty work, and we'd

better have a drink," Bethune remarked.

He pushed the carafe across the table, but Dick picked up his glass,

which he had left about half full. He was hot and it was a light Spanish

wine that one could drink freely, but when he had tasted it he emptied

what was left over the veranda rails.