“I can’t abide this bad luck,” he said anxiously to Brent, who made light of his own hurts and visited his friend after the doctor had finished his work. “This means six weeks on my back and I can’t stand it. I’ve engagements that must be kept. It means all the difference between riches and poverty,” and the grizzled head shook in such exasperation of helpless revolt against fate that Brent did his best to relieve his bitterness of spirit. “Oh, not so bad as that, I hope,” he responded cheerfully. “What you cannot do yourself, I can do under your direction. We are going to the same place. I have nothing pressing to require my attention and shall be delighted to see you out of this mishap. You just make a business of mending that broken leg and the other business will be taken care of all right. You shall tell me about it to-morrow and then we’ll see. Get a good night’s rest now.” “You’re the right sort, lad, and I’ll trust you,” said the other gratefully, gripping Brent’s uninjured hand. “Perhaps you can help me, and you won’t suffer for it if you do. I’ll think it over and we’ll have a good talk to-morrow.” That night the _Elbe_ reached Buenos Ayres. Brent sought the services of the best surgeon in the city, who came aboard and put Fraser’s damaged leg in a plaster cast. He assured the impatient Scotchman that with good care he might hope to be on foot again in about five weeks, but he must not attempt to get about even with crutches under a month. Fraser did not attempt to bring up the subject of his business disappointments with his friend until he had been safely transferred to pleasant quarters in a hotel on the afternoon of the 6th of October. He had been preoccupied and silent most of the time and Brent had found it hard work to rally him into even passing interest in his surroundings. The young man superintended the landing and storage of a dozen or more large cases belonging to Fraser from the cargo of the _Elbe_. When the invalid had been made comfortable upon an adjustable cot procured from a nearby hospital, he invited Brent to return after he had got a glimpse of the city. They would dine together and then have a long consultation. Brent readily assented and they enjoyed a very good but very awkward meal by the Scotchman’s bedside. They became quite merry over their respective infirmities. Brent with one arm in a sling was even more helpless than Fraser upon his back but with both hands free. They had a jovial hour over the repast before approaching serious subjects. When the waiter had been finally dismissed, the Scotchman dropped his gay mood. “I like you, lad,” he remarked suddenly, after looking rather quizzically from under his heavy brows at his companion for some moments. “And because I like you and because I’m certain you’ll stick to a friend through thick and thin, I’m going to ask you to join me in an adventure that may make us both richer than anybody in all this country--or in any other maybe.”