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ZONE POLICEMAN 88

A CLOSE RANGE STUDY OF THE PANAMA CANAL AND ITS WORKERS


BY

HARRY A. FRANCK


Author of "A Vagabond Journey Around the World" and "Four Months Afoot
in Spain"





TO A HOST OF GOOD FELLOWS THE ZONE POLICE

Quito, December 31, 1912




CHAPTER I


Strip by strip there opened out before me, as I climbed the "Thousand
Stairs" to the red-roofed Administration Building, the broad panorama
of Panama and her bay; below, the city of closely packed roofs and
three-topped plazas compressed in a scallop of the sun-gleaming
Pacific, with its peaked and wooded islands to far Taboga tilting
motionless away to the curve of the earth; behind, the low, irregular
jungled hills stretching hazily off into South America. On the
third-story landing I paused to wipe the light sweat from forehead and
hatband, then pushed open the screen door of the passageway that leads
to police headquarters.

"Emm--What military service have you had?" asked "the Captain," looking
up from the letter I had presented and swinging half round in his
swivel-chair to fix his clear eyes upon me.

"None."

"No?" he said slowly, in a wondering voice; and so long grew the
silence, and so plainly did there spread across "the Captain's" face
the unspoken question, "Well, then what the devil are you applying here
for?" that I felt all at once the stern necessity of putting in a word
for myself or lose the day entirely.

"But I speak Spanish and--"

"Ah!" cried "the Captain," with the rising inflection of awakened
interest, "That puts