"It is all very fine to be called a hero and to be in such demand as a pitcher, but it doesn't make me very happy. I came to the Isthmus to look for a job on the gold roll and I seem to be getting farther away from it all the time. I am broke and my folks at home don't know where I am, and I don't seem to be giving them a lift very fast." Devlin was instantly attentive and serious. It seemed to strike him for the first time that being rescued was not a part of Walter's real programme. "Of course, I thought you ought to be pretty well satisfied with yourself," said he. "You have kicked up a most amazing rumpus for a lad of your tender years. Now, about a job----" "Don't think me ungrateful," broke in Walter. "I don't deserve all this wonderful friendship and kindness. I am just worried about things, that's all, and I want your advice." "You are perfectly right, my boy. You are keeping your eye on the ball. In the first place, the colonel himself is interested in you. He ought to be. You made trouble enough for him. And Major Glendinning will forgive you for trying to stop that landslide in the cut. You have recovered a good many dollars' worth of commissary supplies for him, and that thief of a checker has been gotten rid of. You can take it from me that he hasn't been seen since. Your stock ought to be way above par by now." "Do you really think there will be something for me to do?" asked Walter. "If there isn't, I'll recommend you to the colonel for the job of suppressing Spanish-American revolutions with neatness and despatch. The Panama republic and San Salvador between them ought to reward you handsomely for putting the lid on General Quesada." "Maybe my luck has turned," was Walter's hopeful comment. "If it hasn't, my son, you can set me down as a mighty poor guesser." CHAPTER IX A PARENT'S ANXIOUS PILGRIMAGE For the present Walter Goodwin may safely be left on board the sea-going tug _Dauntless_ in charge of the faithful Jack Devlin and the admiring marines. Some attention should be paid to the parents and the sister whom he had left behind in Wolverton. Their affairs may seem very prosaic after the crowded experiences of the only son by land and sea, but nevertheless they deserve to be accounted for. As the waiting days wore on, the house seemed to echo with loneliness. Walter had filled it with lusty clatter and activity, and the very disorder he had always left in his wake was an intimate part of the family life. There was a jubilee when his first letter arrived from the Isthmus, telling them of a safe voyage and of finding employment on the very day he landed. Because the thoughtful youth made no mention of the dynamite ship, the household became more cheerful and less anxious. Walter was the most wonderful boy in the world.