Brandon of the Engineers

A month after Fuller sailed his son arrived at Santa Brigida, and Dick,

who met him on the mole, got something of a surprise when a handsome

youth landed and came straight towards him. Jake Fuller was obviously

very young, but had an ease of manner and a calm self-confidence that

would have done credit to an elderly man of the world. His clothes showed

nice taste, and there was nothing about him to indicate the reckless

scapegrace Dick had expected.

"You're Brandon, of course," he said as he shook hands. "Glad to meet

you. Knew you a quarter of a mile off."

"How's that?" Dick asked. "You haven't seen me before."

"For one thing, you're stamped Britisher; then you had a kind of

determined look, as if you'd come down to yank me right off to the

irrigation ditches before I'd time to run loose in the city. Matter of

duty to you, and you were going to put it through."

Dick said nothing, and Jake laughed. "Well, that's all right; I guess

we'll hit it! And now we'll put out when you like. I laid in a pretty

good breakfast on the boat; I like smart service and a well-chosen menu,

and don't suppose you have either at the camp."

"They might be better," Dick agreed, feeling that he had promised Miss

Fuller more than he might be able to perform. Then he told a peon to take

Jake's luggage and led the way to a mule carriage at the end of the mole.

"I didn't expect to ride in a transfer-wagon," Jake remarked. "Haven't

you any autos yet? If not, I'll indent for one when the next stock order

goes home."

"Perhaps you had better wait until you see the roads."

"You're surely British," Jake replied. "If you'd been an American, you'd

get the car first and make the roads fit in. However, you might tell the

ancient dago to get a move on."

Dick was silent for the next few minutes. On the whole, he thought he

would like Fuller, and made some allowance for the excitement he, no

doubt, felt at beginning his career in a foreign country, but none for any

wish to impress his companion. It was unlikely that the self-possessed lad

would care what Dick thought of him, although it looked as if he meant to

be friendly. Then as the sweating mules slowly climbed the rutted track

out of the town Dick began to point out the changing level of the land,

the ravines, or barrancos, that formed natural drainage channels from the

high watershed, and the influence of drought and moisture on the

cultivation. Jake showed a polite interest, but inquired what amusements

were to be had in Santa Brigida, about which Dick gave him as little

information as possible. If he had understood Miss Fuller's hints, the

Spanish city was no place for her brother.