"Then Fuller is coming back!" Dick exclaimed.
"He'll be here to-morrow night. I imagined Bethune had told you about the
cablegram he sent."
"He didn't; I expect he thought his getting a scratch lunch more
important," Dick replied, looking at his watch. "Well, I must see
everything's ready before the boys make a start."
He went away with swift, decided steps through the scorching heat, and
Stuyvesant smiled.
"There you have a specimen of the useful Anglo-Saxon type. I don't claim
that he's a smart man all round, but he can concentrate on his work and
put over what he takes in hand. You wouldn't go to him for a brilliant
plan, but give him an awkward job and he'll make good. I expect he'll get
a lift up when Fuller has taken a look round."
"He deserves it," Bethune agreed.
Though the heat was intense and the glare from the white dam dazzling,
Dick found work something of a relief. It was his habit to fix his mind
upon the task in which he was engaged; but of late his thoughts had been
occupied by Clare and conjectures about the Adexe coaling station and the
strange black-funnel boat. The delay in the French liner's arrival had
made the matter look more urgent, but he had now an excuse for putting
off its consideration. His duty to his employer came first. There were
detailed plans that must be worked out before Fuller came and things he
would want to know, and Dick sat up late at night in order to have the
answers ready.
Fuller arrived, and after spending a few days at the works came to Dick's
shack one evening. For an hour he examined drawings and calculations,
asking Jake a sharp question now and then, and afterwards sent him away.
"You can put up the papers now," he said. "We'll go out on the veranda.
It's cooler there."
He dropped into a canvas chair, for the air was stagnant and enervating,
and looked down at the clustering lights beside the sea for a time. Then
he said abruptly: "Jake seems to know his business. You have taught him
well."
"He learned most himself," Dick answered modestly.
"Well," said Fuller with some dryness, "that's the best plan, but you put
him on the right track and kept him there; I guess I know my son. Has he
made trouble for you in other ways?"
"None worth mentioning."
Fuller gave him a keen glance and then indicated the lights of the town.
"That's the danger-spot. Does he go down there often?"
"No. I make it as difficult as possible, but can't stop him altogether."
Fuller nodded. "I guess you used some tact, because he likes you and
you'd certainly have had trouble if you'd snubbed him up too hard.
Anyway, I'm glad to acknowledge that you have put me in your debt. You
can see how I was fixed. Bethune's not the man to guide a headstrong lad,
and Stuyvesant's his boss. If he'd used any official pressure, Jake would
have kicked. That's why I wanted a steady partner for him who had no
actual authority."