The Ne'er-Do-Well

by Rex Beach

  XI

  THE TRUTH ABOUT MRS. CORTLANDT

  Edith Cortlandt was not the sort to permit delay. At lunch sheintroduced Kirk to the Master of Transportation of the Panama Railroad,saying:

  "Mr. Runnels has offered to take you out through the Cut thisafternoon, and explain the work to you."

  Runnels, a straight, well-set-up, serious young man, bent a searchinglook upon Kirk, as he said, "Mrs. Cortlandt tells me you're going to beone of us."

  "Yes."

  The Master of Transportation took in the applicant fully, then noddedhis head as if pleased with his inspection.

  "That's good."

  Anthony was drawn to the speaker instantly, for there was noaffectation about him. He was straightforward and open, little given tothe kind of small talk that serves in so many cases to concealcharacter. He produced the effect of a busy and forceful man; one couldfeel energy radiating from him, and his voice had a ring of authority.Like every one down here who was doing something, he talked of littlebesides the Big Job, even when Mr. Cortlandt joined the trio. As thetwo younger men rose to leave, Edith playfully admonished him to teachhis protege the entire detail of the railroad business and have himback in time for dinner, to which he agreed.

  "She's wonderful," he remarked a moment later, as he and Kirk descendedthe hotel steps together. "She told Colonel Jolson he'd just have tofind you a position, and I have been delegated to show you about."

  "You don't say. I supposed there were plenty of openings."

  "Not good ones. However, she usually gets what she wants. If I'm not agood guide, you must put it down to inexperience."

  "The Cortlandts seem to have considerable influence for outsiders. Ithought I'd have to begin at the bottom."

  Runnels glanced at his companion quickly.

  "Outsiders! You don't call them outsiders?"

  "I never quite figured out who they are. Funny, by-the-way, howeverybody says 'they' in referring to them."

  "Oh, she's the whole team. Cortlandt's a nice fellow--but--Did youreally think that she'd let you start at the bottom?"

  "Why, yes."

  "I guess you don't know her."

  "You're right; I do not."

  "Well, she knows everybody and everything in this country. She's thewhole diplomatic service. Take the Colombian trouble, for instance--"

  "What trouble?"

  "When Panama seceded. She manipulated that, or at least Steve Cortlandtdid under her direction. She was the brains of the whole affair,however, and those New York lawyers merely did what she told them. Itwas one of the cleverest exploits on record. Colombia wouldn't let usbuild the Canal, so Panama seceded. War was declared, but the UnitedStates interfered in time to prevent bloodshed. One Chinaman waskilled, I believe, by dropping a flat-iron on his toe, or something,and by the time the excitement had died out we had begun digging. Sheknows Central America like the palm of her hand. When she says KirkAnthony wants a position, we hirelings jump about and see that he getsit. Oh, you'll have any job you want."

  "Well!" The recipient of this good news congratulated himself silently."I wish you'd tell me something more about her."

  "There isn't time just now; our motor is waiting. But we have the wholeafternoon ahead of us."

  The two passed through the railroad gates and took their places in thelittle car. When they were under way, Runnels went on: "I'm supposed toshow you this end of the work and tell you what it all means."

  "Then please start at the beginning. You see, I probably know lessabout it than anybody living."

  "Of course you know the general lay-out?"

  "I tell you I don't know a thing. There's no use four-flushing."

  Runnels smiled at this candor. "Well, the ditch will be about fiftymiles long, and, roughly speaking, the work is in three parts--thedredging and harbor-building at sea-level on each end of the Canal, thelock-work, and the excavations on the upper levels. That dam you sawbuilding at Gatun will form a lake about thirty miles long--quite afish-pond, eh? When a west-bound ship arrives, for instance, it will beraised through the Gatun locks, three of them, and then sail alongeighty-five feet above the ocean, across the lake and into a channeldug right through the hills, until it reaches the locks at PedroMiguel. Then it will be lowered to a smaller lake five miles long, thendown again to the level of the Pacific. An east-bound ship will reversethe process. Get the idea?"

  "Sure. It sounds easy."

  "Oh, it's simple enough. That's what makes it so big. We've beenworking at it five years, and it will take five years more to completeit. Before we began, the French had spent about twenty years on thejob. Now a word, so you will have the general scheme of operation inyour head. The whole thing is run by the Isthmian Canal Commission--sixmen, most of whom are at war with one another. There are really tworailroad systems--the I. C. C., built to haul dirt and rock and tohandle materials in and out of the workings, and the Panama Railroad,which was built years ago during the California gold rush and bought byour government at the time of that terrible revolution I told youabout. The latter is a regular system, hauls passengers and freight,but the two work together. You will start in with the P. R. R., Mr.Anthony, under my despotic sway."

  "I know a little about railroading."

  "So much the better. There's a big railroad man by your name in theStates. Are you related?"

  "I believe so," Kirk answered, quietly. "Go ahead with the lesson."

  "The Canal Zone is a strip of land ten miles wide running across theIsthmus--really an American colony, you know, for we govern it, policeit, and all that. As for the work itself, well, the fellows at the twoends of the Canal are dredging night and day to complete their part,the lock-builders are laying concrete like mad to get their share donefirst, the chaps in the big cut are boring through the hills like molesand breaking steam-shovel records every week, while we railroad mentake care of the whole shooting-match. Of course, there are otherdepartments--sanitary, engineering, commissary, and so forth--all doingtheir share; but that is the general scheme. Everybody is trying tobreak records. We don't think of anything except our own business. Eachfellow believes the fate of the Canal depends upon him. We've lostinterest in everything except this ditch, and while we realize thatthere is such a place as home, it has become merely a spot where wespend our vacations. They have wars and politics and theatres anddivorces out there somewhere, but we don't care. We've lost step withthe world, we've dropped out. When the newspapers come, the first thingwe look for is the Panama news. We're obsessed by this job. Even thewomen and the children feel it--you'll feel it as soon as you become acog in the machine. Polite conversation at dinner is limited to tons ofrock and yards of concrete. Oh, but I'm tired of this concrete talk."

  "Try the abstract for a change."

  "It's interesting at first, then it gets tiresome. Lord! It's fierce."

  "The work, too?"

  "Everything! Every day you do the same thing; every day you see thesame faces, hear the same talk; even the breeze blows from the samedirection all the time, and the temperature stays at the same markwinter and summer. Every time you go out you see the samecoach-drivers, the same Spiggoty policemen leaning against the samethings; every time you come in you eat the same food, drink the sameliquor, sit in the same chair, and talk about the same topics.Everything runs too smoothly. The weather is too damned nice. Thethermometer lacks originality. We're too comfortable. Climate like thatgets on a white man's nerves; he needs physical discomfort to make himcontented. I'd give a forty-dollar dog to be good and cold and freezemy nose. Why, Doctor Gorgas has made us so sanitary that we can't evenget sick. I'd hail an epidemic as a friend.

  "It's even harder on the women folks, for they can't find anything tokick about, so they fuss with one another and with us. They have clubs,you know, to improve things, but there's nothing to improve. We had asocial war recently over a button. One clique wanted a club emblem thatwould cost a dollar and a half, while the other faction were in favorof a dollar button. I tell y
ou, it was serious. Then, too, we're alltagged and labelled like cans of salmon with the price-mark on--wecan't four-flush. You can tell a man's salary by the number ofrocking-chairs in his house, and the wife of a fellow who drawseighteen hundred a year can't associate with a woman whose husbandmakes twenty-five hundred. They are very careful about such things. Wego to the same dances on the same dates, we dance with the same peopleto the same tunes by the same band, and when we get off in some cornerof the same veranda in search of the same old breeze, which we know isblowing at precisely the same velocity from the usual quarter, ourpartners tell us that Colonel So-and-So laid four hundred twenty-sevenmore cubic yards of concrete this week than last, or that Steam ShovelNumber Twenty-three broke the record again by eighty yards. It's hell!"He stopped, breathless.

  "Why don't you quit?" suggested Anthony.

  "Quit! What for? Good Lord! We LIKE it. Here we are at Pedro Miguel,by-the-way. We'll be into the Cut shortly."

  To his left Anthony beheld another scene somewhat similar to the one atGatun. Other movable steel cranes, with huge wide-flung arms, rose outof another chasm in which were extensive concrete workings. From adistance the towers resembled parts of a half-constructed cantileverbridge of tremendous height. Another army was toiling at the bottom ofthe pit, more cars shunted back and forth, more rock-crushers rumbled;but, before Kirk's eye had photographed more than a small part, themotor-car had sped past and was rolling out upon a bridge spanning theCanal itself. To the northward appeared an opening cut through thehills, and Runnels said, simply:

  "Culebra!"

  A moment later he announced: "We leave the P. R. R tracks here andswitch in on the I. C. C. Now you'll begin to see something."

  Down into the Cut the little car went, and at last Anthony saw theactive pulsating heart of this stupendous undertaking. The low rangewas severed by a gorge blasted out by human hands. It was a mountainvalley in the making. High up on its sides were dirt and rock trains,dozens of compressed-air drills, their spars resembling the masts of afleet of catboats at anchor--behind these, grimy, powerful steamshovels which rooted and grunted quite like iron hogs. Along the tracksat various levels flowed a constant current of traffic; long lines ofempty cars crept past the shovels, then, filled to overflowing, spedaway northward up the valley, to return again and again. Nowhere wasthere any idleness, nowhere a cold machine or a man at rest. On everyhand was smoke and steam and sweat. The drills chugged steadily, thehungry iron hogs gouged out the trails the drills had loosened, thetrains rolled past at intervals of a moment or so. Lines of electricwire, carried upon low wooden "shears," paralleled the tracks, bearingthe white-hot sparks that rent the mountain. At every switch a negroflagman crouched beneath a slanting sheet of corrugated iron, seekingshelter alike from flying fragments and the blazing sun. From beneaththe drills came occasional subterranean explosions; then geysers ofmuddy water rose in the air. Under the snouts of the steam shovels"dobe" shots went off as bowlders were riven into smaller fragments.Now and then an excited tooting of whistles gave warning of a biggerblast as the flagmen checked the flow of traffic, indicating with armsupraised that the ground was "coming up." Thereupon a brief lulloccurred; men hid themselves, the work held its breath, as it were. Butwhile the detonations still echoed, and before the flying missiles hadceased to shower, the human ants were moiling at their hills once more,the wheels were turning again, the jaws of the iron hogs were clanking.

  Through this upheaval the motor-car penetrated, dodging trains of"flats," which moved sluggishly to afford them passage up and down overthe volcanic furrows at the bottom of the gorge or along some shelfbeneath which the foundations were being dug. At times a shovel reachedout its five-yard steel jaw and gently cleared the rails of debris, orboosted some bowlder from the path with all the skill of a giant handand fingers. Up and down the canon rolled spasmodic rumblings, likebroadsides from a fleet of battle-ships.

  "Somebody with a head for figures has estimated what it costs thegovernment to send a motor-car like this through the Cut in workinghours," Runnels said. "I don't remember the exact amount, but it wassome thousands of dollars."

  "Delays to trains, I suppose?"

  "Yes. A minute here, thirty seconds there. Every second means a certainnumber of cubic yards unremoved, and holds back the opening of theCanal just so much. You have postponed a great event several minutes,Mr. Anthony."

  "It's the first important thing I ever did."

  "Our little nine-mile trip will cost Uncle Sam more than a brace oftickets from New York to 'Frisco and back again, including Pullmans andtravelling expenses."

  Mile after mile the sight-seers rolled on, past scenes of never-varyingactivity--past more shovels, more groups of drills, more dirt trains,more regiments of men--Runnels explaining. Kirk marvelling until he wasforced to exclaim:

  "I had no idea it was so big. It doesn't seem as if they'd ever finishit."

  "Oh, we'll finish it if we're let alone. Every year, you know, wereceive a batch of senators and congressmen who come down to 'inspect'and 'report.' Sometimes they spend as much as a week on the job, andfrequently learn to distinguish which is the Gatun dam and which theCulebra cut, but not always. Some of them don't know yet. Nevertheless,they return to Washington and tell us how to proceed. Having discoveredthat the Panama climate is good and the wages high, they send down alltheir relatives. It's too bad Colonel Gorgas did away with the yellowfever.

  "You see there is too much politics in it; we never know how long ourjobs will last. If some senator whose vote is needed on anadministration matter wanted my position for his wife's brother, hecould get it. Suppose the president of the Clock-Winders' Union wantedto place his half-sister's husband with the P. R. R. He'd call at theWhite House and make his request. If he were refused, he'd threaten tocall a strike of his union and stop every clock on the Isthmus. He'dget the job all right."

  "Of course, that is an exaggeration."

  "Not at all. It has been done--is being done right along. Thehalf-sister's husband comes down here and takes a job away from somefellow who may be entitled to promotion."

  "I suppose I'm an example."

  Runnels looked at him squarely before answering, "You are," said he,"although I wasn't thinking of you when I spoke. It's something we allfeel, however."

  Anthony flushed as he answered: "I don't remember ever taking anythingI wasn't entitled to, and I didn't think when I was shoved in here thatI'd shove some other fellow out."

  "That's about what will happen. The good positions are filled by goodmen, for the most part, but Mrs. Cortlandt has asked it, and you'reelected. You don't mind my frankness, I hope?"

  "Certainly not. I just didn't happen to look at it in this light." Kirkfelt a vivid sense of discomfort as the keen eyes of his companiondwelt upon him. "As a matter of fact, I dare say I don't need a goodjob half as badly as some of these married fellows. I suppose there isroom at the bottom, and a fellow can work up?"

  "If he has it in him."

  "I think I'll start there."

  "Oh, come, now," laughed the Master of Transportation, "that sort ofthing isn't done. You have the chance, and you'd be foolish to let itslip. I don't blame you; I'd do the same under the circumstances. It'smerely a condition we've all got to face."

  "Just the same, I don't like the idea. I'd feel uncomfortable if I metsome capable fellow whom I'd robbed of his chance. It's hard work to beuncomfortable, and I don't like hard work, you know."

  Runnels shook his head doubtfully as if questioning the genuineness ofthis attitude.

  "I'm afraid you're a poor business man," he said.

  "Rotten!" Kirk admitted. "But I've an idea I can make good if I try."

  "If you feel that way, I certainly will help you," said the other,warmly. "Of course, I'll try to help you anyhow, but--I like yourspirit. With Mrs. Cortlandt to back me up, I'll see you go forward asfast as you deserve."

  By now they were out of the Cut and once more upon the main line at BasObispo, heading back towar
d the Pacific.

  "You asked me to tell you something about her," Runnels continued.

  "Yes."

  "I'm not sure my information is entirely correct, but, knowing who sheis, I think I understand why she is in Panama. It is politics--bigpolitics. The Spiggoties have an election next year, and it isnecessary to get our wires well laid before it comes off. GeneralAlfarez will probably be the next president."

  "Alfarez! Not Ramon?"

  "His father. You know we Americans occupy a peculiar position here, setdown as we are in the midst of an alien people who hate us. Oh, theyhate us, all right--all except a few of the better class."

  "Why?"

  "There are a good many reasons. For one thing, there's a sort of racialantipathy. You don't like them, do you? Well, they don't like you,either, and the same feeling exists from Mexico to Patagonia, althoughit is strongest in these regions. It is partly the resentment of aninferior race, I suppose. Then, too, when we stole Panama we made theColombians sore, and all Central America besides, for they realizedthat once we Yankees got a foothold here we'd hang on and not onlydominate this country but all the neighboring republics as well. That'sjust what we're beginning to do; that's why the Cortlandts are here.The stage is clearing for a big political drama, Mr. Anthony, which maymean the end of Latin Central America."

  "I had gathered something of the sort--but I had no idea there was somuch in it."

  "The United States must protect its Canal, and to that end it isbuilding 'stone quarries' on Ancon Hill which are reallyfortifications. American capital is coming in here, too, and in orderto protect the whole thing we must dominate Panama itself. Once that isdone, all the countries between here and the Texas border will begin tofeel our influence. Why, Costa Rica is already nothing but a fruit farmowned by a Boston corporation. Of course, nobody can forecast the finalresult, but the Mexicans, the Hondurans, the Guatemalans, and theothers have begun to feel it, and that's why the anti-Americansentiment is constantly growing. You don't read much about it in thepapers, but just live here for a while and you'll find out."

  "Oh, I have," Kirk acknowledged, dryly. "But we don't want these junglecountries."

  "That's where you're wrong. By-and-by we'll need room to expand, andwhen that time comes we'll move south, not north or west. TropicalAmerica is richer than all our great Northwest, and we'll grab itsooner or later. Meanwhile our far-sighted government is smoothing theway, and there's nobody better fitted for the preliminary work than Mr.Stephen Cortlandt, of Washington, D. C., husband and clerk of thesmartest woman in the business of chaperoning administrations."

  "Oh, see here, now, Cortlandt is more than a clerk."

  "He's an errand-boy. He knows it, she knows it, and a few other peopleknow it. He's the figurehead behind which she works. She's a richwoman, she loves the game--her father was the greatest diplomat of histime, you know--and she married Cortlandt so she could play it. Anyother man would have served as well, though I've heard that he showedpromise before she blotted him out and absorbed him. But now he'smerely her power of attorney."

  Anthony pursed his lips into a whistle of astonishment. As usual, hereflected, his judgment had been strictly college-made.

  "It's been a good thing for him," Runnels ran on, evidently warmed tohis subject. "She's made his reputation; he has money and position. Formy part, I'd rather remain insignificant and have a real wife, even ifshe does have hysterics over a club button."

  "Don't they love each other?"

  "Nobody knows. She's carved out of ice, and, as for him, well,gratitude is a good deal like rust--in time it destroys the thing itclings to. I suppose I'm talking too much, but others would tell youthe same things. I consider her the smartest woman I ever met, and Iadmire her immensely. You are mighty fortunate to be her friend. She'llforce you to the top in spite of yourself."

  "I'm not sure I like that. It doesn't sound good."

  "Oh, don't misconstrue what I've said," Runnels hastened to add. "Sheisn't that sort."

  "I didn't mean that," said Kirk, briefly, and lapsed into a silencefrom which he roused only to discuss the details of his coming work.

  It was with quite a different eye that he looked upon his hostand hostess that evening. To his genuine liking for the latter was nowadded a worshipful admiration and a boyish gratification at her regard,which rather put her at a distance. When she questioned him on theirway to the Plaza for the band concert later in the evening, he told herof his trip and of Runnels' kindness.

  "It's all settled," said he. "I'm going to work in a few days as traincollector."

  "What?" Mrs. Cortlandt turned upon him sharply. "Runnels didn't offeryou that sort of position?" Her eyes were dark with indignation. Kirkpromptly came to the defence of his new friend.

  "No, I asked for it."

  "Oh, I see. Well, he will do much better by you than that."

  "I don't want anything better to start with."

  "But, my dear boy, a collector is merely a conductor. He takes tickets."

  "Sure! I can DO that. I might fail at something hard."

  "No, no, no! I'll see that you don't fail. Don't you understand?"

  "I understand a lot more than I did, Mrs. Cortlandt. That's why I don'twant to rob some chap of a job he's entitled to, and I sha'n't. There'sa collector quitting shortly."

  She stared at him curiously for a moment before inquiring:

  "Is that really the reason, or do you think the work will be easier?"

  Kirk stirred uncomfortably. "Oh, I'm not trying to dodge anything," hemaintained. "On the contrary, the most amazing thing hashappened--something I can't quite understand. I--I really want to work.Funny, isn't it? I didn't know people ever got that way, but--I'd liketo help build this Canal."

  "But a CONDUCTOR! Why, you're a gentleman."

  "My dad was a brakeman."

  "Don't be foolish. Runnels talks too much. He'll offer you somethingbetter than that."

  "The high-salaried positions are well filled now, and most of thefellows are married."

  "A new position will be created."

  But Kirk was obdurate. "I'd prefer to start in as confidential adviserto the Canal Commission, of course, but I'd be a 'frost,' and my fatherwould say 'I told you so.' I must make good for his sake, even if it'sonly counting cars or licking postage-stamps. Besides, it isn't exactlythe square thing to take money for work that somebody else does foryou. When a man tried for the Yale team he had to play football, nomatter who his people were. If some capable chap were displaced to putin an incapable fellow like me, he'd be sore, and so would his friends;then I'd have to lick them. We'd have a fine scrap, because I couldn'tstand being pointed out as a dub. No, I'll go in through the gate andpay my admission."

  "Do you realize that you can't live at the Tivoli?"

  "I hadn't thought about that, but I'll live where the other fellows do."

  "No more good dinners, no drives and little parties like this."

  "Oh, now, you won't cut me out just because I pull bell-cords and youpull diplomatic wires? Remember one of our champion pugilists was oncea sailor."

  Mrs. Cortlandt laughed with a touch of annoyance.

  "It is utterly ridiculous, and I can't believe you are in earnest."

  "I am, though. If I learn to be a good conductor, I'd like to step up.I'm young. I can't go back to New York; there's plenty of time forpromotion."

  "Oh, you'll have every chance," she declared. "But I think a few weeksin cap and buttons will cure you of this quixotic sentiment. MeanwhileI must admit it is refreshing." She stared unseeingly at the streetlights for a moment, then broke out as a new thought occurred to her:"But see here, Kirk, don't the collectors live in Colon?"

  "I don't know," he replied, startled and flattered by her first use ofhis given name.

  "I'll look it up to-morrow. You know I--Mr. Cortlandt and I will be inPanama, and I prefer to have you here. You see, we can do more foryou." A little later she broke into a low laugh.

  "It seems str
ange to go driving with a conductor."

  As they reclined against the padded seat of their coach, lulled by thestrains of music that came to them across the crowded Plaza and arguedtheir first difference, it struck the young man that Edith Cortlandtwas surprisingly warm and human for a woman of ice. He fully felt hersuperiority, yet he almost forgot it in the sense of cordialcompanionship she gave him.