ability, to
throw himself into the widening breach!

"There is but one remedy," he murmured aloud, as he sat one evening on
a bench in the _plaza_ of Simon Bolivar, watching the stream of gaily
dressed promenaders parading slowly about on the tesselated walks, but
hearing little of their animated conversation.

"And what is that, may I ask, friend?"

The priest roused up with a start. He had no idea that his audible
meditations had been overheard. Besides, he had spoken in English. But
this question had been framed in the same tongue. He looked around. A
tall, slender man, with thin, bronzed face and well-trimmed Van Dyke
beard, sat beside him. The man laughed pleasantly.

"Didn't know that I should find any one here to-night who could speak
my lingo," he said cordially. "But, I repeat, what is the remedy?"

"Christianity," returned the amazed Jose, without knowing what he
said.

"And the condition to be remedied?" continued the stranger.

"This country's diseased--but to whom have I the honor of speaking?"
drawing himself up a little stiffly, and glancing about to see who
might be observing them.

"Oh, my credentials?" laughed the man, as he caught Jose's wondering
look. "I'm quite unknown in Cartagena, unfortunately. You must pardon
my Yankee inquisitiveness, but I've watched you out here for several
evenings, and have wondered what weighty problems you were wrestling
with. A quite unpardonable offense, from the Spanish viewpoint, but
wholly forgivable in an uncouth American, I'm sure. Besides, when I
heard you speak my language it made me a bit homesick, and I wanted to
hear more of the rugged tongue of the Gentiles."

Laughing again good-naturedly, he reached into an inner pocket and
drew out a wallet. "My name's Hitt," he said, handing Jose his card.
"But I didn't live up to it. That is, I failed to make a hit up north,
and so I'm down here." He chuckled at his own facetiousness. "Amos A.
Hitt," he went on affably. "There used to be a 'Reverend' before it.
That was when I was exploring the Lord's throne. I've dropped it, now
that I'm humbly exploring His footstool instead."

Jose yielded to the man's friendly advances. This was not the first
American he had met; yet it seemed a new type, and one that drew him
strongly.

"So you think this country diseased, eh?" the American continued.

Jose did not answer. While there was nothing in the stranger's
appearance and frank, open countenance to arouse susp