Clay rolled along the coast from Valencia to the mines in a paddle-wheeled steamer that had served its usefulness on the Mississippi, and which had been rotting at the levees in New Orleans, when Van Antwerp had chartered it to carry tools and machinery to the mines and to serve as a private launch for himself.It was a choice either of this steamer and landing in a small boat, or riding along the line of the unfinished railroad on horseback.Either route consumed six valuable hours, and Clay, who was anxious to see his new field of action, beat impatiently upon the rail of the rolling tub as it wallowed in the sea.
He spent the first three days after his arrival at the mines in the mountains, climbing them on foot and skirting their base on horseback, and sleeping where night overtook him.Van Antwerp did not accompany him on his tour of inspection through the mines, but delegated that duty to an engineer named MacWilliams, and to Weimer, the United States Consul at Valencia, who had served the company in many ways and who was in its closest confidence.
For three days the men toiled heavily over fallen trunks and trees, slippery with the moss of centuries, or slid backward on the rolling stones in the waterways, or clung to their ponies'
backs to dodge the hanging creepers.At times for hours together they walked in single file, bent nearly double, and seeing nothing before them but the shining backs and shoulders of the negroes who hacked out the way for them to go.And again they would come suddenly upon a precipice, and drink in the soft cool breath of the ocean, and look down thousands of feet upon the impenetrable green under which they had been crawling, out to where it met the sparkling surface of the Caribbean Sea.It was three days of unceasing activity while the sun shone, and of anxious questionings around the camp-fire when the darkness fell, and when there were no sounds on the mountain-side but that of falling water in a distant ravine or the calls of the night-birds.
On the morning of the fourth day Clay and his attendants returned to camp and rode to where the men had just begun to blast away the sloping surface of the mountain.
As Clay passed between the zinc sheds and palm huts of the soldier-workmen, they came running out to meet him, and one, who seemed to be a leader, touched his bridle, and with his straw sombrero in his hand begged for a word with el Senor the Director.
The news of Clay's return had reached the opening, and the throb of the dummy-engines and the roar of the blasting ceased as the assistant-engineers came down the valley to greet the new manager.They found him seated on his horse gazing ahead of him, and listening to the story of the soldier, whose fingers, as he spoke, trembled in the air, with all the grace and passion of his Southern nature, while back of him his companions stood humbly, in a silent chorus, with eager, supplicating eyes.Clay answered the man's speech curtly, with a few short words, in the Spanish patois in which he had been addressed, and then turned and smiled grimly upon the expectant group of engineers.He kept them waiting for some short space, while he looked them over carefully, as though he had never seen them before.
``Well, gentlemen,'' he said, ``I'm glad to have you here all together.I am only sorry you didn't come in time to hear what this fellow has had to say.I don't as a rule listen that long to complaints, but he told me what I have seen for myself and what has been told me by others.I have been here three days now, and I assure you, gentlemen, that my easiest course would be to pack up my things and go home on the next steamer.I was sent down here to take charge of a mine in active operation, and Ifind--what? I find that in six months you have done almost nothing, and that the little you have condescended to do has been done so badly that it will have to be done over again; that you have not only wasted a half year of time--and I can't tell how much money--but that you have succeeded in antagonizing all the people on whose good-will we are absolutely dependent; you have allowed your machinery to rust in the rain, and your workmen to rot with sickness.You have not only done nothing, but you haven't a blue print to show me what you meant to do.I have never in my life come across laziness and mismanagement and incompetency upon such a magnificent and reckless scale.You have not built the pier, you have not opened the freight road, you have not taken out an ounce of ore.You know more of Valencia than you know of these mines; you know it from the Alameda to the Canal.You can tell me what night the band plays in the Plaza, but you can't give me the elevation of one of these hills.You have spent your days on the pavements in front of cafe's, and your nights in dance-halls, and you have been drawing salaries every month.I've more respect for these half-breeds that you've allowed to starve in this fever-bed than I have for you.You have treated them worse than they'd treat a dog, and if any of them die, it's on your heads.You have put them in a fever-camp which you have not even taken the trouble to drain.Your commissariat is rotten, and you have let them drink all the rum they wanted.There is not one of you--''
The group of silent men broke, and one of them stepped forward and shook his forefinger at Clay.
``No man can talk to me like that,'' he said, warningly, ``and think I'll work under him.I resign here and now.''
``You what--'' cried Clay, ``you resign?''
He whirled his horse round with a dig of his spur and faced them.
