Jake Gets Into Difficulties

Day was breaking, though it was still dark at the foot of the range, when
Dick returned wearily to his iron shack after a night's work at the dam.
There had been a local subsidence of the foundations on the previous
afternoon, and he could not leave the spot until precautions had been
taken to prevent the danger spreading. Bethune came with him to look at
some plans, and on entering the veranda they were surprised to find the
house well lighted and smears of mud and water upon the floor.

"Looks as if a bathing party had been walking round the shack, and your
boy had tried to clean up when he was half-asleep," Bethune said.

Dick called his colored servant and asked him: "Why are all the lights
burning, and what's this mess?"

"Señor Fuller say he no could see the chairs."

"Why did he want to see them?"

"He fall on one, señor; t'row it wit' mucha force and fall on it again.
Say dozenas of malditos sillas. If he fall other time, he kill my
head."

"Ah!" said Dick sharply. "Where is he now?"

"He go in your bed, señor."

"What has happened is pretty obvious," Bethune remarked. "Fuller came
home with a big jag on and scared this fellow. We'd better see if he's
all right."

Dick took him into his bedroom and the negro followed. The room was very
hot and filled with a rank smell of kerosene, for the lamp was smoking
and the negro explained that Jake had threatened him with violence if he
turned it down. The lad lay with a flushed face on Dick's bed; his muddy
boots sticking out from under the crumpled coverlet. He seemed to be
fully dressed and his wet clothes were smeared with foul green slime.
There was a big red lump on his forehead.