before the hotel and began to climb the graveled path behind,
hoping against hope that we might find crape on that door, from
the night ahead would break on our cars a sound as of a
hippopotamus struggling wildly against going down for the third
and last time.

Most annoying of all, "the Sloth" was not even a bona fide
bachelor. He proudly announced that, though he was a model of
marital virtue, he had not lived with his wife in many years. I
never heard a man who knew him by night ask why. It was close upon
criminal negligence on the part of the I.C.C. to overlook its
opportunity in this matter. There were so many, many uninhabited
hilltops on the Zone where a private Sloth-dwelling might have
been slapped together from the remains of falling towns at Gatun
end; near it a grandstand might even have been erected and
admission charged. Or at least the daily climb to it would have
helped to reduce a push-ball figure, and thereby have improved the
general appearance of the Canal Zone force.





CHAPTER IV


One morning early in March "the boss" and I crossed the suspension
bridge over the canal. A handcar and six husky negroes awaited us,
and we were soon bumping away over temporary spurs through the
jungle, to strike at length the "relocation" opposite the giant