"The Captain," is how he really did begin, "called me up from
Colon last night, and--"

"Here's where I get my case nol prossed," I found myself
whispering. In all probability that sealed document I had sent in
the day before announced me as a physical wreck.

"--and told me," continued "Eddie" in his sad, regretful tone, "to
tell you we will take you on the force as a first-class policeman.
It happens, however, that the department of Civil Administration
is about to begin a census of the Zone, and they are looking for
any men that can speak Spanish. If we take you on, therefore, the
Captain would assign you to the census department until that work
is done--it will probably take something over a month--and then
you would be returned to regular police duty. The Chief says he'd
rather have you learn the Isthmus on census than on police pay.

"Or," went on "Eddie," just as I was about to break in with, "All
right, that suits me,"--"or, if you prefer, the census department
will enroll you as a regular enumerator and we'll take you on the
force as soon as that job is over. The--er--pay," added "Eddie,"
reaching for a cigarette but changing his mind, "of enumerators
will be five dollars a day, and--er--five a day beats eighty a
month by more than a nose."

We descended a story and I was soon in conference with a slender,
sharp-faced young man of mobile features and penetrating eyes
behind which a smile seemed always to be lurking. On the Canal
Zone, as in British colonies, one is frequently struck by the
youthfulness of men in positions of importance.