arious points of interest, and supplied such information
about them as he had gleaned from the maps and books he had consulted. The
ruins of the old French workings were soon in sight, the locality where
millions had been squandered in graft. And there was Mount Hope Cemetery,
where thousands who had perished from fever had been buried.

"The doctors have cleaned out the fever now," he said, "by cleaning out
the mosquitoes--the poison kind with the long name," he added. "The Canal
Zone is about as healthy now as the city of New York."

Then came thickets where the trees were tied together with vines and
creepers, all in gorgeous bloom. The great trees lifting their heads out
of the jungle reminded the boys of the electric towers of New York, the
twists of vines resembling the mighty cables which convey light, heat and
power to the inhabitants of Manhattan.

As if in rivalry of the wealth of blossoms, bright-plumaged birds darted
about like butterflies of unnatural growth. Now and then they saw evil
looking lizards, some of them a yard in length, scuttling off through the
marshes or looking down from high limbs. There was a swampy atmosphere
over all the landscape.

Then, as the Boy Scouts looked, thinking of the glory of a camp in the
thicket--of a retired nook on some dry knoll--the jungle disappeared as if
by magic, and the train was winding up grassy hills. Beyond, higher up,
the scattered houses of a city of fair size came into view.

"That's Gatun," cried Fenton. "I've read half a dozen descriptions of it
lately. Great town, that."

"The houses look like boxes from here," Jimmie observed.

"Of course," Peter replied, "they are all two-story houses, square, with
double balconies all screened in. Might be Philadelphia, eh?"

There were smooth roads in front of the houses, and there were yards where
flowers were growing, and where neatly dressed children were playing.
Jimmie turned from the homelike scene to Frank.

"I thought there would be something new down here," he complained. "This
is just like a town up the Hudson."

"Jimmie expected to find people living in tents made out of animal skins,"
laughed George. "He thinks the natives eat folks alive."

"You wait until you get out of the country," Frank said, "before you talk
of cottages up the Hudson. There will be something stirring before we get
off the Isthmus."

"I hope so," Jimmie replied. "There surely will be if we camp back there
in the jungle,