It was a bright, hot afternoon, and the city seemed
very beautiful and desirous as he was driven through it; but the
whole procedure filled him with uneasiness. He was sure that it
had nothing to do with his trial, or Anson would have posted him,
and he began to fear that it might concern his marriage. Perhaps
Chiquita was ill, dying, or perhaps they were trying to annul the
bond. The smiling little officer only shook his head, shrugged,
and chattered unintelligibly at his questions.
The coach drew up at last before a large, white building, and he
was told to descend. Up a flight of stairs he was escorted, his
pulses quickening with apprehension, down a long corridor, and
into a large room, where he saw Runnels, Colonel Jolson, Anson,
Clifford, a dozen or more Panamanian officials, and--he stopped in
his tracks as his eyes fell upon a huge, white-crowned figure that
came to meet him. His heart leaped wildly, a great drumming set up
in his ears, something gripped his throat with agonizing pressure
and robbed him of speech.
A certain harsh yet tender voice pronounced his name. He felt his
hands crushed in his father's palms, found the old man's arm about
his shoulders, and saw the deep-set, steel-blue eyes he loved so
well wet and shiny.
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