in your case because of the knowledge of the Zone the census must
have given you."

Thus casually was I robbed of the opportunity to display my manly
form in uniform to tourists of trains and the Tivoli--tourists, I
say, because the "Zoners" would never have noticed it. But we must
all accept the decrees of fate.

That was the full extent of the Inspector's remarks; no mention
whatever of the sundry little points the recruit is anxious to be
enlightened upon. In government jobs one learns those details by
experience. For the time being there was nothing for me to do but
to descend to the "gum-shoe" desk in Ancon station and sit in the
swivel-chair opposite Lieutenant Long "waiting for orders."

Toward noon a thought struck me. I swung the telephone around and
"got" the Inspector.

"All my junk is up in Empire yet," I remarked.

"All right, tell the desk-man down there to make you out a pass.
Or--hold the wire! As long as you're going out, there's a prisoner
over in Panama that belongs up in Empire. Go over and tell the
Chief you want Tal Fulano."

I wormed my way through the fawning, neck-craning, many-shaded mob
of political henchmen and obsequious petitioners into the sacred
hushed precincts of Panama police headquarters. A paunched
"Spigoty" with a shifty eye behind large bowed glasses, vainly
striving to exude dignity and wisdom, received me with the oily