The Boy Chums in the Florida Jungle

by Ethel C. Brill

  CHAPTER III.

  INVESTIGATING.

  THE working of the powerful machine had been observed from a distance.As the little party drew nearer, they could see more plainly the heapsof mud and wet dirt left in the wake of the steam shovel. Five giganticnegroes, with shovels and hoes, leveled off the piles, working slowlyand languidly over the task, their legs wet to the knees and theirbodies plastered with mud.

  "Saws, all of them." Charley commented briefly, as they passed thesudden, slow-working group.

  "Saws?" echoed Walter questioningly. "I never heard of that racebefore."

  "They come from the Bahama Islands," Charley replied. "They all haveto ship for this country by way of the port of Nassau. So they gettheir title from that port, but people on this side have shortenedthe title down to 'Saws.' They are the finest built and laziest racein existence, I believe. There, that's Mr. Murphy, right back of themachine. He hasn't seen us yet. Whew! Just listen to him."

  Mr. Murphy, a short, florid-faced man, was standing with his backto them, cursing earnestly at two negroes, who guided the moving ofthe sections of track and cleared away all roots and brush from themachine's path. The negroes' faces were ashen with anger, but theyworked on sullenly, probably because the butt of a heavy revolverprotruded from the white man's pocket.

  Mr. Murphy's face became wreathed in smiles, and he ceased his cursingto greet the little party cordially.

  "You've just got to cuss at them Saws occasionally," he apologized, ashe rubbed the sweat from his red face. "If you don't, you just simplycan't get any work out of them. Well, I'm glad to see you. I expectedyou early and had given you up. Well, there's the machine, and youcan see for yourself what kind of work it does. I've got my contractwith the county commissioners back in my tent, but I'll show it to youwhen we go back to dinner, so that you'll see everything is O. K. Anyquestions you want to ask?"

  "Sure," said Charley, with a smile. "We don't want to go into anythingblindfolded. First, what are your monthly expenses?"

  Murphy wrinkled his brow in thought. "Let's see," he said. "We work theengineers in shifts of 8 hours each. They get $85.00 a month and board;that's $255.00. Then there's two shifts for the firemen and groundmen; that makes six men at $36.00 a month--a total of $216.00. Then, Ihave to carry two bridge builders at the same wage, which makes $72.00more. Then there's five graders, one cook, and one teamster, and adynamiter to blow up the trees ahead of the machine; that's eight more,at $36.00, or $288.00. That brings my total payroll up to a little over$800 a month. Then, there's the grub bill. It runs from $250 to $300a month. Carbide for machine lights, feed for the mules, and otherextras will likely bring the total expenses for a month up to $1,200,but that's a trifle compared to what the machine is earning, and $3,000for the bunch is like giving it away. The machine alone cost $12,000,and the tents, mules, wagons, and the motor truck would be cheap atanother thousand dollars." He pulled a big watch out of his pocket andlooked at the time. "Chuck's ready by now at the cook tent," he said."Let's go and have a bite, and I'll run you into Jupiter in the truckafterward. We can talk business on the way."

  In the cook tent they found one long table filled up with big, black,sweating negroes. At the other smaller one were seated the teamster--awhite man--and the two sleepy-eyed engineers, off duty. The food wasplenty, but coarse and cheap in quality. Hungry as they were, the boyspartook of it meagerly, for they could not forget that dirty benchoutside, and the inside was foul from the sweating negroes crowded intoit. One thing they all noticed was the sullen silence that prevailed.Even the white men at their own table had nothing to say, except to askoccasionally for the passing of some dish they could not reach. Theboys were glad when the meal was at last finished and they were ableto get out again into the sweet, sun-purified air. Mr. Murphy remainedbehind for a few minutes, arguing loudly with the two engineers.

  "I don't like the looks of this outfit very much," said Walter, as thefour gathered together at the base of a pine tree. "The whole camp isfilthy--tents, cooking, men, and everything else. And everyone appearsso sullen and ugly, as though a little thing would start a fight going.Of course, the price is dirt cheap, but I don't like the looks ofthings."

  "We can alter things in short order," Charley declared eagerly, forhe was letting his eagerness to seize this new opportunity cloudhis usually clear judgment. "Why, it won't take any time to changethings around. We can stop the machine for a day, and turn all handsin on the job, make them scrub the tents good with soap and water,and, after they are dry, pitch them all again in a different place.A change of cooks, and Sunday to rest up in, will take away a lot ofthat sullenness, I bet. I really believe that half of it is caused byMurphy cursing the men so much."

  "Maybe you're right," Walter admitted. "Anyway, I would like to learnto run that steam shovel. I bet I could do it in a week."

  "I don't ever want to have to climb aboard that critter," CaptainWestfield observed; "but I reckon I could stay on the ground and keepthe other fellows up to scratch. I ain't nowise anxious to go into thebusiness, but I leave it up to you, Charley. I've never had much to dowith shore business. Just do as you think best, boy."

  "I leave it up to you, too, so far as I'm concerned," Walter agreed.

  "I hopes you-alls do buy it," Chris said, earnestly; "I sho' wants todo de cookin'; dat dirty nigger what's doing it now ain't fitting to dohit, no way."

  "All right," Charley agreed, reluctantly. "If it's left up to me todo the deciding, I'll do it, though I had rather not take all theresponsibility. Well, I'm going to buy----"

  He had no time to continue what he was going to say, for at that momentMr. Murphy stepped out of the tent and called to them. "Come aroundhere to the next tent; that's where my motor truck is housed."

  Walter examined the motor truck carefully. It was almost new, butit was evident that it had received rough treatment at the hands ofinexperienced drivers, but its main parts were still good and unworn.

  "Well, what have you decided to do?" asked Mr. Murphy, as they allclambered aboard the truck.

  "We would like until to-morrow morning to talk it over," Charley saidcautiously.

  "Sorry, but the way it stands, I've got to close up at once," said Mr.Murphy briefly. "I've just got to get back home to my wife. I've gotanother man on my string, and if you fellows don't want the businessI'll just run down to his place and see him to-night. I'm pretty surehe'll take it."

  "All right, then; we'll take it," said Charley promptly. "Machine,truck, contract, and all equipment for $3,000."

  "Agreed," said Mr. Murphy, equally prompt. "I'll give you a regularbill of sale, covering everything, as soon as I get to Jupiter. We'llget there in time to find a notary, I guess."

  There was no further chance for conversation, for, as soon as it wasstarted up, the motor truck kept all hands busy trying to retain theirseats. The dirt road was full of hollows, bumps and ruts that sent thetruck's occupants bouncing and jarring from side to side, so that theywere not at all sorry when Jupiter was at last reached. Once arrived,the notary was hunted up, and the transfer papers made out. "I'llstay with you two weeks and show you how to run the thing," said Mr.Murphy. "I ought to go at once, but I promised you I would stay, and Iwill. I suppose you will want to pack up and not go back until morning.So, I guess I'll take this check for $3,000 down to Palm Beach, and getit cashed, and come back on the early morning train. There's a localtrain due for Palm Beach in about five minutes, so I'll say so longuntil morning."

  The boys were up at the first crack of day, packing up their fewbelongings, taking down their tents, and pulling out their littlelaunch and concealing it back among the bushes. By sunrise they wereat Jupiter, having rowed over in the skiff, which they hauled outand left, feeling confident that it would not be molested until theyreturned.

  They found, upon inquiry at the little station, that the train wouldnot arrive until nine o'clock.

  "Want tickets?" inquired the station agent, who had answered theirquestions.

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sp; "No," said Charley. "We are waiting for Mr. Murphy. He's coming up onthe train to take us out to camp. We have bought out his machine andcontracts."

  "Whew!" whistled the agent. "What did you pay him?"

  "We got the whole outfit for $3,000," said Charley proudly.

  "Good Lord!" murmured the agent. "Cash or check?"

  "Check on the Bank of West Palm Beach," answered Charley less proudly.

  The agent glanced at the clock. "Ten minutes of nine," he saidmusingly. "The bank opens at eight. You have got a chance--just a barechance." He shoved over a pad of telegraph blanks. "Just wire the bankto stop payment on that check."

  "Why?" asked Charley, bewildered.

  "Because, it's a rotten proposition," declared the agent earnestly;"rotten all the way through. If you can stop payment on that checkyou'll save losing $3,000, that's all."

  Reluctantly Charley filled in a blank and shoved it over to the agent,who clicked it off rapidly on the key. When he had finished he camearound from behind the partition. "It was none of my business, buttingin in that way," he apologized, "but I hate to see a man robbed of hismoney."