.......50c
and in the course of time found said voucher again on his desk
with a marginal note of mild-eyed wonder and more than idle
curiosity, in the handwriting of a man very high up indeed;
WHERE can you buy beer in Cristobal?
All this and more I learned in the swivel-chair waiting for
orders, reading the latest novel that had found its way to Ancon
station, and receiving frequent assurances that I should be quite
busy enough once I got started. Opposite sat Lieutenant Long
pouring choice bits of sub-station orders into the 'phone:
"Don't you believe it. That was no accident. He didn't lose
everything he had in every pocket rolling around drunk in the
street. He's been systematically frisked. Sabe frisked? Get on the
job and look into it."
For the Lieutenant was one of those scarce and enviable beings who
can live with his subordinates as man to man, yet never find an
ounce of his authority missing when authority is needed.
Now and then a Z. P. story whiled away the time. There was the sad
case of Corporal-----in charge of-----station. Early one Sunday
afternoon the Corporal saw a Spaniard leading a goat along the
railroad. Naturally the day was hot. The Corporal sent a policeman
to arrest the inhuman wretch for cruelty to animals. When he had
left the culprit weeping behind padlocks he went to inspect the
goat, tied in the shade under the police station.
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