ing,
"It de time, sah," and fade noiselessly away. It was the frontier
policeman carrying out his orders of the night before. For once there
was not a carriage in sight. I stumbled sleepily down into Panama and
for some distance along Avenida Central before I was able to hail an
all night hawk chasing a worn little wreck of a horse along the
macadam. I spread my lanky form over the worn cushions and we spavined
along the graveled boundary line, past the Chinese cemetery where John
can preserve and burn joss to his ancestors to the end of time, out
through East Balboa just awakening to life, and reached Balboa docks as
day was breaking. I was not long there, and the equine caricature
ambled the three miles back to town in what seemed reasonable time,
considering. As we turned again into Avenida Central my watch told me
there was time and to spare to catch the morning passenger. I was not a
little surprised therefore to hear just then two sharp rings on the
station gong. I dived headlong into the station and brought up against
a locked gate, caught a glimpse of two or three ladies weeping and the
tail of the passenger disappearing under the bridge. Americans have
introduced the untropical idea of starting their trains on time, to the
disgust of the "Spig" in general and the occasional discomfiture of
Americans. I dashed wildly out through the station, across Panama's
main street, down a rugged lane to the first steps descending to the
track, and tumbled joyously onto a slowly moving train--to discover
that it was the Balboa labor-train and that the Colon passenger was
already half-way to Diablo Hill.

A Panama policeman of dusky hue, leaning against a gate-post, eyed me
drowsily as I slowly climbed the steps, mopping my brow and staring at
my watch.

"What time does that 6:35 train leave?" I demanded.

"Yo, senor," he said with ministerial dignity, shifting slowly to the
other shoulder, "no tengo conocimiento de esas cosas" (I have no
knowledge of those things).

He probably did not know there is a railroad from Panama to Colon. It
has only been in operation since 1855.

Later I found the fault lay with my brass watch.

With a perspiration up for all day I set out along the track. Hounding
Diablo Hill the realization that I was hungry came upon me
simultaneously with the thought that unless I got through the door of
Corozal hotel by 7:30 I was likely to remain so. Breakfast over, I
caught the morning supply-train