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Franck, Harry Alverson, 1881-1962

"Zone Policeman 88; a close range study of the Panama canal and its workers"

It is
not exactly that; but certainly many a "Zoner" wakes up day by day
with ambitious plans, and just drifts the day through with the
fine weather. He fancies himself as strong and energetic as in the
north, yet when the time comes for doing he is apt to say, "Oh, I
guess I'll loaf here in the shade half an hour longer," and
before he knows it another whole day is charged up against his
meager credit column with Father Time.
There came the day early in April when the Inspector must go north
on his forty-two days' vacation. I bade him bon voyage on board
the 8:41 between the two Gatuns and soon afterward was throwing
together my belongings and leaving "Davie" to enjoy his room
alone. For Corporal Castillo was to be head of the subterranean
department ad interim, and how could the digging of the canal
continue with no detective in all the wilderness of morals between
the Pacific and Culebra? Thus it was that the afternoon train bore
me away to the southward. It was a tourist train. A New York
steamer had docked that morning, and the first-class cars were
packed with venturesome travelers in their stout campaign outfits
in which to rough it--in the Tivoli and the sight-seeing motors--
in their roof-like cork helmets and green veils for the terrible
Panama heat--which is sometimes as bad as in northern New York.


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