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Caribbean Sea by stress of weather; the largest of ocean tramps; and even 

battle…ships; could find in its protecting arms of coral a safe shelter。 But; as 

young   Mr。 Aiken;   the   wireless   operator;   pointed   out;   unless   driven   by   a 

hurricane and the fear of death; no one ever visited it。 Back of the ancient 

wharfs;   that   dated   from   the   days   when   Porto   Banos   was   a   receiver   of 

stolen    goods    for   buccaneers     and   pirates;   were    rows   of   thatched    huts; 

streets; according to the season; of dust or mud; a few iron…barred; jail…like 

barracks; customhouses; municipal buildings; and the whitewashed adobe 

houses of the consuls。 The backyard of the town was a swamp。 Through 

this at five each morning a rusty engine pulled a train of flat cars to the 

base of the mountains; and; if meanwhile the rails had not disappeared into 

the   swamp;   at   five   in   the   evening   brought   back   the   flat   cars   laden   with 

odorous coffeesacks。 

     In the daily life of Porto Banos; waiting for the return of the train; and 

betting if it would return; was the chief interest。 Each night the consuls; 

the    foreign   residents;    the  wireless    operator;    the  manager      of  the   rusty 

railroad met for dinner。 There at the head of the long table; by virtue of his 

years;    of   his   courtesy    and    distinguished     manner;     of   his  office;   Mr。 

Marshall presided。 Of the little band of exiles he was the chosen ruler。 His 

rule   was   gentle。   By   force   of   example   he   had   made   existence   in   Porto 

Banos more possible。 For women and children Porto Banos was a death… 

trap; and before 〃old man Marshall〃 came there had been no influence to 

remind the enforced bachelors of other days。 

     They  had   lost   interest;   had   grown   lax;  irritable;   morose。 Their   white 

duck was seldom white。 Their cheeks were unshaven。 When the sun sank 

into the swamp and the heat still turned Porto Banos into a Turkish bath; 

they threw dice on the greasy tables of the Cafe Bolivar for drinks。 The 

petty gambling led to petty quarrels; the drinks to fever。 The coming of Mr。 

Marshall changed that。 His standard of life; his tact; his worldly wisdom; 

his cheerful courtesy; his fastidious personal neatness shamed the younger 


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men; the desire to please him; to; stand well in his good opinion; brought 

back pride and self…esteem。 

     The lieutenant of her Majesty's gun…boat PLOVER noted the change。 

     〃Used to be;〃 he exclaimed; 〃you couldn't get out of the Cafe Bolivar 

without some one sticking a knife in you; now it's a debating club。 They 

all sit round a table and listen to an old gentleman talk world politics。〃 

     If Henry Marshall brought content to the exiles of Porto Banos; there 

was   little   in   return   that   Porto   Banos   could   give   to   him。   Magazines   and 

correspondents in six languages kept him in touch with those foreign lands 

in   which    he   had   represented    his   country;   but  of   the  country    he  had 

represented; newspapers and periodicals showed him only too clearly that 

in   forty   years   it  had   grown     away    from    him;    had   changed     beyond 

recognition。 

     When last he had called at the State Department; he had been made to 

feel he was a man without a country; and when he visited his home town 

in   Vermont;   he   was   looked   upon   as   a   Rip   Van   Winkle。   Those   of    his 

boyhood friends who were not dead had long thought of him as dead。 And 

the sleepy; pretty village had become a bustling commercial centre。 In the 

lanes where; as a young man; he had walked among wheatfields; trolley… 

cars whirled between rows of mills and factories。 The children had grown 

to manhood; with children of their own。 

     Like   a   ghost;   he   searched   for   house   after   house;   where   once   he   had 

been made welcome; only to find in its place a towering office building。 

〃All had gone; the old familiar faces。〃 In vain he scanned even the shop 

fronts for a friendly; homelike name。 Whether the fault was his; whether 

he    would     better   have    served    his  own     interests   than   those    of  his 

government; it now was too late to determine。 In his own home; he was a 

stranger   among   strangers。   In   the   service   he   had   so   faithfully   followed; 

rank by rank; he had been dropped; until now he; who twice had been a 

consul…general; was an exile; banished to a fever swamp。 The great Ship of 

State had dropped him overside; had 〃marooned〃 him; and sailed away。 

     Twice a day he walked along the shell road to the Cafe Bolivar; and 

back again to the consulate。 There; as he entered the outer office; Jose〃 the 


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Colombian clerk; would rise and bow profoundly。 

     〃Any papers for me to sign; Jose? 〃 the consul would ask。 

     〃Not   to…day;    Excellency;     〃the   clerk   would    reply。   Then   Jose   would 

return to writing a letter to his lady…love; not that there was any…thing to 

tell her; but because writing on the official paper of the consulate gave him 

importance   in   his   eyes;   and   in   hers。  And   in   the   inner   office   the   consul 

would   continue   to   gaze   at   the   empty   harbor;   the   empty   coral   reefs;   the 

empty; burning sky。 

     The little band of exiles were at second break fast when the wireless 

man came in late to announce that a Red D。 boat and the island of Curacao 

had both reported a hurricane coming north。 Also; that much concern was 

felt for the safety of the yacht SERAPIS。 Three days before; in advance of 

her coming; she had sent a wireless to Wilhelmstad; asking the captain of 

the   port   to   reserve   a   berth   for   her。   She   expected   to   arrive   the   following 

morning。 But for forty…eight hours nothing had been heard from her; and it 

was   believed   she   had   been   overhauled   by   the   hurricane。   Owing   to   the 

presence      on  board    of   Senator    Hanley;    the  closest    friend   of  the   new 

President; the man who had made him president; much concern was felt at 

Washington。 To try to pick her up by wireless; the gun…boat NEWARK had 

been ordered from Culebra; the cruiser RALEIGH; with Admiral Hardy on 

board; from Colon。 It was possible she would seek shelter at Porto Banos。 

The consul was ordered to report。 

     As Marshall wrote out his answer; the French consul exclaimed with 

interest: 

     〃He is of importance; then; this senator?〃 he asked。 〃Is it that in your 

country ships of war are at the service of a senator?〃 

     Aiken; the wireless operator; grinned derisively。 

     〃At   the   service   of   THIS   senator;   they   are!〃   he   answered。   〃They   call 

him the 'king…maker;' the man behind the throne。〃 

     〃But in your country;〃 protested the Frenchman; 〃there is no throne。 I 

thought your president was elected by the people?〃 

     〃That's what the people think;〃 answered Aiken。 〃In God's country;〃 he 

explained;      〃the  trusts   want   a  rich   man    in  the  Senate;    with   the   same 


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interests as their   own; to represent   them。 They chose   Hanley。   He   picked 

out of the candidates for the presidency the man he thought would help the 

interests。 He nominated him; and the people voted for him。 Hanley is what 

we call a 'boss。' 〃 

     The Frenchman looked inquiringly at Marshall。 

     〃The    position   of  the  boss   is  the  more    dangerous;〃    said   Marshall 

gravely; 〃because it is unofficial; because there are no laws to curtail his 

powers。 Men like Senator Hanley are a menace to good government。 They 

see in public office only a reward for party workers。〃 

     〃That's right;〃 assented Aiken。 〃Your forty years' service; Mr。 Consul; 

wouldn't count with Hanley。 If he wanted your job; he'd throw you out as 

quick as he would a drunken cook。〃 

    Mr。   Marshall   flushed   painfully;   and    the   French   consul   hastened   to 

interrupt。 

     〃Then; let us pray;〃 he exclaimed; with fervor; 〃that the hurricane has 

sunk the SERAPIS; and all on board。〃 

     Two hours later; the SERAPIS; showing she had met the hurricane and 

had come out second best; steamed into the harbor。 

    Her   owner   was   young   Herbert   Livingstone;   of Washington。   He   once 

had been in the diplomatic service; and; as minister to The Hague; wished 

to return to it。 In order to bring this about he had subscribed liberally to the 

party campaign fund。 

    With   him;   among   other   distinguished   persons;   was   the   all…   powerful 

Hanley。 The kidnapping of Hanley  for the cruise; in itself;  demonstrated 

the a

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