: The Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal by Goldfrap John Henry - Boy Scouts of America Juvenile fiction; Panama Canal (Panama) Juvenile fiction

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erritt. "We look more like drowned rats than Scouts, in our present plight."

The boys set to work trying to remove the traces of the ducking that had been given them by the malignant Jared, who had undoubtedly recognized them. Had they known that he was actually on the lookout for them, they would have been much astonished. Yet such was the case, as will appear before long.

Luckily the mixture of cement that had been doused over them was a very watery one, the rinsings of a cement bucket, in fact, so that in a short time the hot sun had dried out most of the traces of their adventure.

But Mr. Mainwaring greeted them with exclamations of astonishment.

"What in the world have you lads been up to now," he exclaimed half laughingly as they rejoined him, "taking a swim with your uniforms on?"

"Well, we did have an involuntary bath," admitted Rob, and he went on to tell just what had happened.

"Jove!" exclaimed Mr. Mainwaring when he had finished, "this is getting interesting, and perhaps explains many annoying things that have been happening about here recently. Derrick booms have collapsed without apparent cause and an investigation has shown that acid has been poured on the supporting ropes by some malignantly disposed persons. Blasts have been set off prematurely, narrowly avoiding injury, and the work has been delayed by many such tricks. It wouldn't surprise me a bit if your friend Jared and the Latin Americans who are interested in delaying the canal construction are at the bottom of this. I'll dispatch men at once to get hold of this chap Jared and we'll make him confess all about it."

As he spoke there was a sudden crash behind him as a workman, who had been standing close to him and who must have overheard every word, dropped a heavy bucket. They all faced round and saw a man shuffling off rapidly. Something familiar about him struck Rob, but for the life of him he could not place the man. It was not until later that he recalled where they had seen him before. He was the man who had driven them to the ruins of old Panama on that memorable morning, and who must have heard some of their talk. But what was he doing on the canal work? Was he allied with the forces that were trying to defeat the completion of the canal? Had he told the plotters of what he had overheard and warned them that vigilant retribution was on their trail?

All these were questions that for the time had to wait. Rob decided not to say anything just then. After all he might have been mistaken. In the meantime the searchers sent out after Jared reported that they could not find him. Undoubtedly after venting his malice on the boys he had made off. Rob was not mistaken in his identification of the cabman. The fellow was allied with the plotters by close ties both of nationality and sentiment. He had been set to driving a hack in Panama so that he might carry on his spy work without being suspected. It was by chance that the boys had happened to take his cab. But what he had overheard that day had caused him to hasten to the dam and inform his confederates, who, as Rob had guessed, were constantly about there disguised as workmen.

In that vast enterprise, employing thousands of laborers, it was a simple enough matter for any able bodied men to obtain employment, and no questions were asked so long as the laborer proved able to earn his pay. At dinner time Mr. Mainwaring was unusually silent. There was no question in his mind now but that there were plotters mingled in among the workmen. That night orders for extra vigilance in patroling the dam were issued, and that night, also, Mr. Mainwaring announced that he intended to start the next day on his search for the troublesome tributary of the Chagres River which it was his intention to devise a means to control.

As may be imagined, this was great news to the boys, and they passed an all but sleepless night in their room in Mr. Mainwaring's bungalow, which stood in a row of "gold-men's" houses, among which it was the largest and best finished.

The boys' equipment had been brought up from Panama with them and was, as usual, all in readiness for instant transportation. These Boy Scouts lived up to their "Be Prepared" motto all the time, and to the finest detail. When their camping equipment had been packed up on the submarine island everything had been stowed away with military precision so that they knew, without going through a lot of troublesome overhauling, that everything, down to their small pocket water filters, was in its right place.

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