Almost a week after the _Juan Lopez_ had fled so hastily from the Bay of Panama, Walter Goodwin came back in the government tug with a body-guard of devoted marines. Although he had managed to make a good deal of noise in the world for a youth of his years, he had no false ideas of his own importance. As he looked at it, he had made a muddle of things and his friends had pulled him out. He must show them that he could stand on his own feet and they must be given no more trouble in his behalf. Before landing at Balboa, he said to Jack Devlin: "Please forget about me. I can jump right in and look for a job." "Not until I have taken you to the colonel. Those were his orders. We'll board the first train to Culebra on the chance of finding him in his office." "Did he really want to see me?" "Sure. You are the prize disturbance of the Isthmus." Colonel Gunther was in consultation with two of his division engineers when the steam-shovel man led Walter in by the arm. Shoving aside a mass of blue-prints and typewritten data, the colonel stepped forward and heartily exclaimed: "Why, here is the young man who was so handy with the broomstick! I am delighted to know that your latest voyage has turned out so well. I understand that you bagged General Quesada as an incident of the adventure." Walter blushed and replied: "I had a lucky chance to get square with him, sir." "The lad used his head, colonel," put in Devlin, with a broad grin. "It's head-work that counts on the Isthmus, if you please. I have heard you say it yourself." "I can't thank you enough. I wasn't worth all that trouble," said Walter. "Oh, perhaps you were," smiled the colonel. "That remains to be seen. Devlin told me that you were looking for work when you got into this extraordinary scrape. You have done the Canal Commission a considerable service. Would you like to take a position on the wharf at Balboa?" Walter was about to answer with great fervor when a tall, spare gentleman in khaki entered the office from another room and paused to survey the group. Then he raised his voice abruptly and protested: "Pardon me, colonel, but Goodwin belongs to me. I saw him first. With your permission I will use him in the Cristobal commissary." "Oh, how are you, Major Glendinning," and the colonel chuckled. "Has base-ball anything to do with your lively interest in this young man?" "Officially? No. Between us, as man to man? Yes," frankly returned the major. "The force at Cristobal will be most unhappy if Goodwin is sent to Balboa. They will consider themselves wronged. Their morale will be impaired." "Is it as bad as that?" The colonel tried to look serious. "If base-ball is really involved, I had better surrender. I would rather not add to my troubles." The major bowed his thanks, and his stern features relaxed in a mischievous smile. Turning to Walter, he said in his curt way: