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commanded； 〃and s'lute me damn quick。〃
Standish remained motionless。 As is the habit of policemen over
all the world； his thumbs were stuck in his belt。 He answered
without offense； in tones matter…of…fact and calm。
〃You are not my superior officer；〃 he said。
It was the calmness that irritated Aintree。 His eyes sought for
the infantryman's cap and found a sombrero。
〃You damned leatherneck；〃 he began； 〃I'll report〃
〃I'm not a marine； either；〃 interrupted Standish。 〃I'm a policeman。
Move on；〃 he ordered； 〃you're keeping these people waiting。〃
Others of the dinner…party formed a flying wedge around Aintree
and crowded him up the steps and into a seat and sat upon him。
Ten minutes later； when Standish made his rounds of the cars；
Aintree saw him approaching。 He had a vague recollection that
he had been insulted； and by a policeman。
〃You！〃 he called； and so loudly that all in the car turned； 〃I'm
going to report you； going to report you for insolence。 What's
your name？〃
Looking neither at Aintree nor at the faces turned toward him；
Standish replied as though Aintree had asked him what time it was。
〃Standish；〃 he said； 〃corporal； shield number 226； on train
guard。〃 He continued down the aisle。
〃I'll remember you；〃 Aintree shouted。
But in the hot； glaring dawn of the morning after； Aintree forgot。
It was Standish who remembered。
The men of the Zone police are hand…picked。 They have been
soldiers； marines； cowboys； sheriffs； 〃Black Hussars〃 of the
Pennsylvania State constabulary； rough riders with Roosevelt；
mounted police in Canada； irregular horse in South Africa； they
form one of the best…organized； best…disciplined； most efficient；
most picturesque semi…military bodies in the world。 Standish
joined them from the Philippine constabulary in which he had
been a second lieutenant。 There are several like him in the
Zone police； and in England they would be called gentlemen
rankers。 On the Isthmus； because of his youth； his fellow
policemen called Standish 〃Kid。〃 And smart as each of them was；
each of them admitted the Kid wore his uniform with a difference。
With him it always looked as though it had come freshly ironed
from the Colon laundry； his leather leggings shone like
meerschaum pipes； the brim of his sombrero rested impudently on
the bridge of his nose。
〃He's been an officer；〃 they used to say in extenuation。 〃You can
tell when he salutes。 He shows the back of his hand。〃 Secretly；
they were proud of him。 Standish came of a long chain of soldiers；
and that the weakest link in the chain had proved to be himself was
a sorrow no one else but himself could fathom。 Since he was three
years old he had been trained to be a soldier； as carefully； with the
same singleness of purpose； as the crown prince is trained to be a
king。 And when； after three happy； glorious years at West Point；
he was found not clever enough to pass the examinations and was
dropped； he did not curse the gods and die； but began again to work
his way up。 He was determined he still would wear shoulder…straps。
He owed it to his ancestors。 It was the tradition of his family； the one
thing he wanted； it was his religion。 He would get into the army
even if by the side door； if only after many years of rough and
patient service。 He knew that some day； through his record；
through the opportunity of a war； he would come into his
inheritance。 Meanwhile he officered his soul； disciplined his
body； and daily tried to learn the lesson that he who hopes to
control others must first control himself。
He allowed himself but one dissipation； one excess。 That was
to hate Major Aintree； commanding the Thirty…third Infantry。 Of
all the world could give； Aintree possessed everything that
Standish considered the most to be desired。 He was a graduate of
West Point； he had seen service in Cuba； in the Boxer business；
and in the Philippines。 For an act of conspicuous courage at
Batangas； he had received the medal of honor。 He had had the
luck of the devil。 Wherever he held command turned out to be the
place where things broke loose。 And Aintree always attacked and
routed them； always was the man on the job。 It was his name that
appeared in the newspapers； it was his name that headed the list
of the junior officers mentioned for distinguished conduct。
Standish had followed his career with an admiration and a joy
that was without taint of envy or detraction。 He gloried in
Aintree； he delighted to know the army held such a man。 He was
grateful to Aintree for upholding the traditions of a profession
to which he himself gave all the devotion of a fanatic。 He made
a god of him。 This was the attitude of mind toward Aintree before
he came to the Isthmus。 Up to that time he had never seen his
idol。 Aintree had been only a name signed to brilliant articles
in the service magazines； a man of whom those who had served with
him or under him； when asked concerning him； spoke with loyalty
and awe； the man the newspapers called 〃the hero of Batangas。〃
And when at last he saw his hero； he believed his worship was
justified。 For Aintree looked the part。 He was built like a
greyhound with the shoulders of a stevedore。 His chin was as
projecting； and as hard； as the pointed end of a flat…iron。 His every
movement showed physical fitness； and his every glance and tone a
confidence in himself that approached insolence。 He was thirty…
eight； twelve years older than the youth who had failed to make
his commission； and who； as Aintree strode past； looked after him
with wistful； hero…worshipping eyes。 The revulsion； when it came；
was extreme。 The hero…worship gave way to contempt； to indignant
condemnation； in which there was no pity； no excuse。 That one upon
whom so much had been lavished； who for himself had accomplished
such good things； should bring disgrace upon his profession；
should by his example demoralize his men； should risk losing all
he had attained； all that had been given； was intolerable。 When
Standish learned his hero was a drunkard； when day after day
Aintree furnished visible evidences of that fact； Standish felt
Aintree had betrayed him and the army and the government that had
educated； trained； clothed； and fed him。 He regarded Aintree as
worse than Benedict Arnold； because Arnold had turned traitor for
power and money； Aintree was a traitor through mere weakness；
because he could not say 〃no〃 to a bottle。
Only in secret Standish railed against Aintree。 When his brother
policemen gossiped and jested about him； out of loyalty to the
army he remained silent。 But in his heart he could not forgive。
The man he had so generously envied； the man after whose career
he had wished to model his own； had voluntarily stepped from his
pedestal and made a swine of himself。 And not only could he not
forgive； but as day after day Aintree furnished fresh food for
his indignation he felt a fierce desire to punish。
Meanwhile； of the conduct of Aintree； men older and wiser； if less
intolerant than Standish； were beginning to take notice。 It was
after a dinner on Ancon Hill； and the women had left the men to
themselves。 They were the men who were placing the Panama Canal
on the map。 They were officers of the army who for five years had
not worn a uniform。 But for five years they had been at war with
an enemy that never slept。 Daily they had engaged in battle with
mountains； rivers； swamps； two oceans； and disease。 Where Aintree
commanded five hundred soldiers； they commanded a body of men
better drilled； better disciplined； and in number half as many as
those who formed the entire army of the United States。 The mind
of each was occupied with a world problem。 They thought and
talked in millions of millions of cubic yards of dirt； of
millions of barrels of cement； of millions of tons of steel； of
hundreds of millions of dollars； of which latter each received
enough to keep himself and his family just beyond the reach of
necessity。 To these men with the world waiting upon the outcome
of their endeavor； with responsibilities that never relaxed；
Aintree's behavior was an incident； an annoyance of less
importance than an overturned dirt train that for five minutes
dared to block the completion of their work。 But they were human
and loyal to the army； and in such an infrequent moment as this；
over the coffee and cigars； they could afford to remember the
junior officer； to feel sorry for him； for the sake of the army；
to save him from himself。
〃He takes his orders direct from the War Department；〃 said the
chief。 〃I've no authority over him。 If he'd been one of my workmen
I'd have shipped him north three months ago。〃
〃That's it；〃 said the surgeon； 〃he's not a workman。 He has nothing
to do； and idleness is the curse of the army。 And in this climate〃
〃Nothing to do！〃 snorted the civil administrator。 〃Keeping his
men in hand is what he has to do！ They're running amuck all over
Panama； getting into fights with the Spiggoty police； bringing
the uniform into contempt。 As for the climate； it's the same
climate for all of us。 Look at