the lost road-第55节

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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