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Bert Wilson at Panama Part 12

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It seems hardly probable, however, that any invalid, suffering from "nerves" or some kindred disorder, would have selected this as an ideal place to recuperate. Everywhere the greatest activity was apparent, and the combined din of the different machines was a thing to be remembered.

A steam shovel rattled and puffed, cement mixers crashed, and compressed air drills hammered perseveringly at the living rock. Every once in a while, work would cease at some point, and the laborers would stand around expectantly.

Then there would come a m.u.f.fled roar from some exploded blast, and a cloud of rocks, dirt, and smoke would shoot upwards. Then the men would fall to again with renewed energy, the giant steam shovel would be set to work, and a few more yards of rock would be carried away.

Thus the work proceeded without intermission, and the boys, although now somewhat used to the sights, looked on fascinated. There was something very wonderful and awe-inspiring about the whole process that held the boys spellbound.

"Just think of it," said Bert, after a long silence. "Imagine us standing maybe half a mile away from this ca.n.a.l and seeing some big ocean liner going through it. Why, it will look as though the ship were going over the solid ground."

"That's what it will, all right," replied d.i.c.k. "It's certainly the biggest thing ever."

"I should think it was," said Tom. "I can't think of anything else that even compares with it.".

"No, neither can I," said Bert, thoughtfully. "That is, no practicable project. Of course wild schemes come up now and then to change the earth's course, or some other crazy idea like that. I remember reading of a plan like that somewhere. It seems its originator, whoever he was, planned to build a great ring of iron all around the earth at the equator, and then charge it with electricity. He figures that the immense magnetic attraction generated in that way would change the earth's course by acting on neighboring planets. I haven't much confidence in the plan, though," and, as Bert said this, he looked at Tom, slyly.

"Confidence!" exclaimed Tom, with a contemptuous snort. "Why, of all the fool schemes I ever heard of that's the limit. I shouldn't think you'd even----" but here he caught the twinkle in Bert's eye, and stopped abruptly.

"Ha, Ha!" roared d.i.c.k, "my, but you had Tom going that time, Bert, he thought you were in earnest about that."

"Well, why shouldn't I think he was in earnest?" growled Tom. "He's pretty near foolish enough even to believe in a demented idea like that.

I wouldn't have been surprised if he had."

"Well, never mind, old timer," said Bert, "I put one over on you that time, though, I guess. You'll have to admit it."

"Yes, I guess you did," said Tom, "but I'll get even for that sometime.

Don't be surprised if you find a little rat poison in your soup some day.

That's the only punishment I can think of that would fit the crime."

"Oh, that's all right," laughed Bert. "If it's like most rat poisons, all it will do is to make me fat and strong. I remember a friend of mine whose father was a farmer. He was telling me how his father scattered poison all around his barn in the hope of killing off a few of the pests, but he said that all the effect it seemed to have was to make them hungry, so that they ate more grain and feed than before. Maybe that's the way it will work with me, only the comparison isn't very flattering."

"It isn't, for a fact," said d.i.c.k, "but I hope in this case Tom isn't as blood thirsty as he sounds."

"Well, I might be persuaded to postpone the execution," admitted Tom, with a grin. "I'm always open to an offer, and a little matter of a five dollar bill or so would buy me off."

"All right, consider yourself paid," said Bert. "I'd rather owe it to you all my life than cheat you out of it."

"Much obliged, I'm sure," replied Tom, sarcastically. "As soon as I get the five spot I'll blow you both to a swell dinner."

"Good night," exclaimed d.i.c.k. "I hope I don't have to go hungry until that happens. I have a feeling that I'd lose considerable weight."

"You'll have a _long_ wait, that's certain," replied Tom, and prepared to take to his heels.

The only indication Bert and d.i.c.k gave that they heard this atrocious pun was a couple of hollow groans and melancholy head shakes.

"Poor old Tom," mourned d.i.c.k at length, "poor old Tom. I've feared for some time he was going off his head and now I know it. That's proof beyond question."

"Don't let it turn your hair gray," retorted Tom. "As long as I don't worry about my condition you don't need to. But I'll promise to be good and not do it again, anyway. That was a pretty rotten joke, I'll have to admit."

"That's all right," said Bert, "we forgive you. I'm glad to see that you realize what a crime it was."

After this they fell to discussing the events of the day before, and became so interested that they could hardly believe it was lunch time, when the whistles blew and the men threw down their tools and prepared to take a well earned rest for a brief hour. "Well," said Bert, glancing at his watch, "I guess it's about time we hit the trail toward the nearest eats emporium. Now that its called to my attention, I begin to realize that I'm hungry."

The others also discovered symptoms of a healthy appet.i.te, so without further loss of time they hurried back to their 'base of supplies' as Tom put it.

"If we're as hungry as this without having done much all the morning, what would we be if we had been working since eight o'clock?" queried d.i.c.k, and the others were unable to give him a satisfactory answer.

"I guess they'd have to stop work, owing to a shortage in the food supply," said Bert, and his companions laughingly agreed with him.

They made a hearty lunch, and then returned to the scene of the excavations. There were a thousand interesting things to watch, and the afternoon pa.s.sed very quickly. Their attention was specially attracted by one giant steam shovel that rattled and puffed like some untiring monster. The engineer guiding it directed its every motion with a touch of one of the levers close to his hand, and it seemed as though the machine were a living creature and he its brain. The great scoop would drop with a roar of chains pa.s.sing through pulleys, and then, as the main engine began to puff, would rise slowly but with irresistible force..

Then a pair of auxiliary cylinders mounted on the beam of the shovel would begin to work, and the big scoop with its load of dirt and rocks would swing around and stop over one of the dirt cars. The engineer's a.s.sistant would pull a rope attached to the scoop, a catch would be released, and the bottom of the scoop would swing open, letting the load fall into the waiting car. This process would be repeated again and again, and then, when the shovel had scooped up all the dirt around it, it would be moved forward a few feet, under its own power, to a new base of operations.

It seemed that its power was almost limitless, but at last there came a time when the boys thought it would meet an insurmountable obstacle.

Close to where they sat, a big stump projected from the ground. Part of its gnarled and twisted roots was exposed, but a good deal of it was firmly imbedded in the earth. The steam shovel had worked its way along, until now it had reached a spot directly in front of this stump. The boys thought that some laborers would be sent to uproot it, so that the shovel could proceed, but there was no sign of this being done.

"Say!" exclaimed d.i.c.k. "I'll bet any money they mean to uproot that stump with the shovel, but I don't believe it can be done. Why, it would take a charge of dynamite to get that up."

"It certainly looks pretty solid," said Bert, "but they must know what they're doing. We won't have to wait long, though, to find out. Look!

they're bringing the scoop up under it now!"

The three comrades watched intently as the big scoop dug in under the stump. As it came fairly up against the obstacle it slowed and almost stopped, and the boys caught their breaths. But the engineer opened the throttle a trifle more, and the stump moved! Slowly it gave way, one root after another snapping off with a loud report, and at last was lifted clear of the ground.

"Well, what do you know about that!" exclaimed Tom. "I thought the old steam shovel was up against it for fair, that time."

"So did I," said Bert, "but it fooled us good and proper."

"It's such things as that steam shovel that make the ca.n.a.l possible,"

said d.i.c.k, "just imagine the time it would take to dig that stuff out by the old method of shoveling. Why, it would take so long that we'd never live to see it finished."

"Yes, I guess you're right," said Bert, "and look at those compressed air drills working over there. Think how long it would take to bore out those holes by the old method of hammering a drill into the rock.

There's no doubt, that, as you say, modern machinery is the only thing responsible for this work. It's a wonderful thing, any way you look at it."

It was indeed a subject admitting of much speculation, and the boys never tired of talking about it. In this way the afternoon pa.s.sed very quickly, and when work was stopped they returned to their quarters.

On the way back, Bert said, "We might as well make arrangements now as later, fellows, for going to see Mr. Hartley. You know we promised to call on him to-morrow. What time shall we get there?"

"Oh, I should think right after lunch would be about the best time, don't you?" said d.i.c.k, and as there seemed to be no objection to this plan, they adopted it unanimously.

They arose early the next morning, and had ample time to take a long walk before breakfast. "Not that it's at all necessary," remarked Bert, "I don't very well see how any of us could have much better appet.i.tes than we have already."

"Yes, but if we didn't get all the exercise that we do, the appet.i.tes might not last very long," replied Bert.

They did not prolong their ramble long enough to interfere with breakfast, and got back to their quarters just in the nick of time.

"Another ten minutes," exclaimed Tom, "and we would have missed some of the eats. We certainly do have close escapes from disaster at times."

"It would certainly have been an awful calamity," grinned Bert, "but I think we must have some sixth sense that leads us back here in time for meals. I don't remember that we have ever been late to one yet."

"No, and we're not going to be, if I can help it," said d.i.c.k, and they all fell to in earnest.

Breakfast over, they selected a level spot not far from their quarters and had a "catch." Bert found his arm somewhat rusty, as he had not done any pitching to speak of for quite a while, but soon limbered up, and began "shooting them over" in his old time form. The morning pa.s.sed quickly in the pursuit of this and other athletic exercises, and after a light luncheon the three comrades set out to visit Mr. Hartley in accordance with the plan they had formed the day before.

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Bert Wilson at Panama Part 12 summary

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