"You are not fit to do anything just now," evasively returned Naughton. "The major's bearings are heated, but he will cool down. He took a fancy to you. Now what can I do for you? You will soon be on your feet again and going strong. Need any money?" Walter flushed and his lip quivered. Jack Devlin had asked the same question. These were friends worth having. "I can get along somehow," he bravely answered. Naughton exclaimed reprovingly: "None of that. We folks on the Isthmus are one big family. You have made good. Don't worry about your meal-ticket after you leave the hospital. You may need some spare change for clothes and so on. I'll leave a few dollars with the nurse." "But I don't deserve all this kindness." "Nonsense. What else?" "I think I had better send a letter home to-day. I feel more like it now. May I dictate it to you, Mr. Naughton?" "Sure thing. But don't let the folks infer you are down and out. Tell 'em about the scenery." "If the scenery would only stay put, I shouldn't be in the hospital," was the patient's comment. Naughton chewed his pencil until Walter began: MY DEAREST FAMILY: I have had a slight accident, so I cannot very well use my right hand. I have the very best of care, and everybody is just bully to me.---- He stared at the ceiling and confided to Naughton: "I am stumped. You see, it is hard to explain things. I was so cocksure of myself--and--and--I was going to find a good position right away, and it hurts a fellow's pride like the mischief to own up that he was all wrong. And I don't want them to worry----" Naughton nodded gravely and suggested: "Shall I tell them about your impressions of the canal? You are right. We ought to send them no hard-luck stories." "Go ahead, then. My first impressions were dents. I'm covered with them. You know more about the canal than I do." Naughton scribbled industriously, and the patient seemed pleased with the results. "Harrison will be over to see you soon," said the amanuensis. "You are going to help us dig the Big Ditch, so keep your nerve. Good-by and good luck until next time." Walter was a low-spirited and restless patient. Now and then he forgot his troubles in chatting with the other men who had been brought into the accident ward. They had been wounded on the firing-line of this titanic conflict with Nature. Like good soldiers they were eager to be up and at it again. They worked and dared for something more than wages. They manifested intense pride and loyalty. It was their ambition to "stay with the job." Their talk was mostly of progress made, of new records set. Their spirit thrilled Walter, it was so fine and clean and worthy of the flag they served. After three days the surgeon examined him carefully, and announced: "You are fit to leave us, but you must take it easy. And that arm should be looked after. What are your plans?" "I haven't any. I am not a canal employee, so I suppose I can't go to a commission hotel."