"It's not what you owe to yourself," he said, with a laugh, "but what you owe to the boys. Remember that they're working here all day, with little chance of getting news but what comes to them at the club. We're steadygoing stagers here on the canal, and it isn't often that a chap like you turns up. When he does he's got to stand the ruction, and guess that's what you've got to do. Don't I jest wish you and I could change places." Jim agreed with him heartily, though, as a matter of fact, when he came to face what in his imagination would be an ordeal, he discovered it to be but the pleasantest ceremony. Quiet, earnest men crowded round him to shake his hand; then he was bidden to sit at a table in the centre of his new comrades. "Yer see," said Harry, who regarded our hero with an envious expression, "that 'ere Tomkins ain't the man to talk, while the Major's much too busy; besides, guess his head's much too sore for chatting. You jest get right in at it, and give us the yarn from start to finish." [Illustration: ATTACKED BY NATIVES] Jim did as he was bidden, describing every incident, and drawing a growl from many of his audience when he came to that part of his narrative which dealt with the injury to the engine; for it can well be imagined that amongst those white employees on the huge canal a goodly number were, if not actually engineers by profession, certainly most strongly imbued with a leaning towards it. All may have been said to have had mechanical knowledge, since there were few who did not run a steam navvy, a rock drill, a rail-laying plant, or a lifting derrick of some description. "Gee whiz! That's hot!" exclaimed one of them, interrupting for a moment. "One of those muzzle-loading gas barrels chucked a shot right at your motor, did it? And knocked a hole clean through the water jacket? My, that must have been awkward! Reckon the water pumped up most everywhere, and swamped the ignition. Tell us jest how yer fixed it." Jim described exactly what had happened, how he had plugged the water entrance to the pump of his motor, and drained the jackets dry. "It was a near thing," he admitted, with a grin. "I thought I should never get going again; but we mopped the water from the magneto, and reckon we fixed it just in time. Of course I gave her plenty of oil, and all the time I was scared that the motor would become overheated." "Excuse me, sir," said one of the audience, suddenly pressing forward and disclosing himself as one of the officials. "All the time you were fixing this motor, shots were flying, and I understand that there was a boatload of dark-skinned gentlemen thirsting for the lives of yourself and your comrades, and not forgetting to let you know it either. Reckon many a man would have been too upset to think of extra lubrication, though everyone here who knows a gasolene motor realizes well enough that it was extra lubrication, and that alone, which saved your engine from overheating."