ll probability recover. The
news reached me as I stood at the second-class gate scanning the faces
of the great multicolored river of passengers that poured out into the
city. For two hours, one by one with crestfallen mien, the manhunters
leaked back into Ancon station and, the case having dwindled to one of
regular daily routine, by eleven we were all abed.

In the morning the "Greek chase" fell to me. More detailed description
of the culprit had come in during the night, including the bit of
information that he was a bad man from the Isle of Crete. The
belt-straining No. 38 oiled and loaded, I set off on an assignment that
was at least a relief after pursuing stolen necklaces for negro women,
or crowbars lost by the I. C. C.

By nine I was climbing to Pedro Miguel police station on its knoll with
the young Greek who had exchanged hats with the assassin after the
crime. That afternoon a volunteer joined me. He was a friend of the
wounded men, a Peruvian black as jade, but without a suggestion of the
negro in anything but his outward appearance. He was of the size and
build of a Sampson in his prime, spoke a Spanish so clear-cut it seemed
to belie his African blood, and had the restless vigor acquired in a
youth of tramping over the Andine ranges.

I piled him into a cab and we rolled away to East Balboa, to climb upon
an empty dirt-train and drop off as it raced through Miraflores, the
sturdy legs of the Peruvian saving him where his practice would not
have. Up in the bush between Pedro Miguel and Paraiso we found a hut
where the Greek had stopped for water and gone on up a gully. We set
out to follow, mounting partly on hands and knees, partly dragging
ourselves by grass and bushes up what had been and would soon be again
a torrential mountain stream. For hours we tore through the jungle, up
hills steeper than the path of righteousness, following now a few faint
foot-prints or trampled bushes, now a hint from some native bush
dweller. The rain outside vied with the sweat within as to which would
first soak us through. To make things merrier I had not only to wear an
arsenal but a coat atop to conceal it from the general public.

To mention the holes I crawled into and the clues I followed during the
next few days would be more tiresome than a Puritan prayer. By day I
was dashing back and forth through all Ancon district, by night
prowling about the grimier sections of Panama city. Almost daily I got
near enough t