.

Then he roused himself, because he must watch what was going on. The
great blocks must be properly fitted into place, and one could not trust
the dusky laborers to use the care that was needed; besides, they were
getting slack, and the fresh blocks the locomotives brought would soon
begin to accumulate. Since this would mean extra handling and consequent
expense, the track must be kept clear. Still, Dick wished noon would
come, for his head ached badly and he felt the heat as he had not felt it
before.

It was hard to force himself to begin again after the short mid-day rest,
but he became a little more vigorous as the sun sank and the shadow of
the black cordillera lengthened across the valley. After dinner, when he
lounged on the veranda, the headache and lassitude returned, and he
listened to Jake's talk vacantly and soon went to bed. He knew he was not
well, but while malarial fever was not unusual in the neighborhood people
seldom took it in a virulent form, and as there was a good doctor at
Santa Brigida he determined to consult him when he had occasion to visit
the town. As it happened, a crane broke next day, and when evening came
he set off to inquire if new castings could be made for it in the Spanish
foundry. While he waited for an engine to take him down the line, Jake
announced his intention of coming.

"I've never been round a Spanish town," he said.

"You're not going round a Spanish town now, if I can prevent it," Dick
rejoined. "However, I suppose I can't order you off your father's
locomotive."

Jake smiled. "You can resent my taking the line you hint at when I've
done so, but I guess one must make allowances. You're getting the fever
badly, partner."

"It's the heat," Dick answered in an apologetic tone. "Anyhow, Santa
Brigida's a dirty, uninteresting place."

"I expect your ideas of what's interesting are different from mine.
Concrete's all right in the daytime, though you can have too much of it
then, but you want to please your eye and relax your brain at night."

"I was afraid of something of the kind. But here's the locomotive. Get
up, if you're coming."

Dick was silent as the engine jolted down the track, for he was feverish
and his companion's talk irritated him. Besides, he had promised Ida
Fuller to take care of the lad and knew something of the license that
ruled in the city. Jake seemed to claim the supposititious privileges of
the artistic temperament, and there were wine-sh