birds.

On the morning of the fourth day Clay and his attendants
returned to camp and rode to where the men had just begun to
blast away the sloping surface of the mountain.

As Clay passed between the zinc sheds and palm huts of the
soldier-workmen, they came running out to meet him, and one, who
seemed to be a leader, touched his bridle, and with his straw
sombrero in his hand begged for a word with el Senor the
Director.

The news of Clay's return had reached the opening, and the throb
of the dummy-engines and the roar of the blasting ceased as the
assistant-engineers came down the valley to greet the new
manager. They found him seated on his horse gazing ahead of him,
and listening to the story of the soldier, whose fingers, as he
spoke, trembled in the air, with all the grace and passion of his
Southern nature, while back of him his companions stood humbly,
in a silent chorus, with eager, supplicating eyes. Clay answered
the man's speech curtly, with a few short words, in the Spanish
patois in which he had been addressed, and then turned and smiled
grimly upon the expectant group of engineers. He kept them
waiting for some short space, while he looked them over
carefully, as though he had never seen them before.

``Well, gentlemen,'' he said, ``I'm glad to have you here all
together. I am only sorry you didn't come in time to hear
what this fellow has had to say. I don't as a rule listen that
long to complaints, but he told me what I have seen for myself