He charged full-tilt along the wharf, and Walter Goodwin meekly followed with the sensation of being yanked at the end of a tow-rope. At the gangway a uniformed officer sang out for a steward, who touched his cap and took charge of the troublesome piece of luggage. Walter hesitated, but as the skipper pounded along the deck toward the bridge he called back: "Make yourself at home and look about the ship, my lad. I'll see you as soon as I overhaul my papers." The tall youth had no intention of waiting to be paid for his services, but he lived in an inland town and the deck of a ship was a strange and fascinating place. The _Saragossa_ was almost ready to sail, bound out to the Spanish Main. Many passengers were on board. Among them were several tanned, robust men who looked as if they were used to hard work out-of-doors. As Goodwin lingered to watch the pleasant stir and bustle, one of these rugged voyagers was saying to a friend who had come to bid him good-by: "It's sure the great place for a husky young fellow with the right stuff in him. There are five thousand of us Americans on the job, and you bet we're making the dirt fly. I was glad to get back to God's country for my six weeks' leave, but I won't be a bit sorry to see the Big Ditch again." The other man replied with a shrug and a careless laugh: "The United States is plenty good enough for me, Jack. I don't yearn to work in any pest-hole of a tropical climate with yellow-fever and all that. It's no place for a white man." "Oh, you make me tired," good-naturedly retorted the sunburnt giant of a fellow. "You are just plain ignorant. Do I look like a fever-stricken wreck? High wages? Well, I guess. We are picked men. I am a steam-shovel man, as you know, and Uncle Sam pays me two hundred gold a month and gives me living quarters." "You are welcome to it, Jack. It may look good to you, but you will have to dig the Panama Canal without me." Walter Goodwin had pricked up his ears. The Panama Canal had seemed so remote that it might have belonged in another world, but here were men who were actually helping to dig it. And this steam-shovel man looked so self-reliant and capable and proud of his task that he made one feel proud of his breed of Americans in exile. And that was a most alluring phrase of his, "a great place for a husky young fellow." After some hesitation the lad timidly accosted him: "I overheard enough to make me very much interested in what you are doing. Do you think I would stand any show of getting a job on the Panama Canal?" The stranger's eyes twinkled as he scanned Goodwin and amiably answered: "As a rule, they don't catch 'em quite as young as you are, my son. What makes you think of taking such a long jump from home?" "I need the money," firmly announced the youth. "And when it comes to size and strength I'm not exactly a light-weight."