“It’s a bad business, Senor Capitan,” he assured him confidentially. “But the country is safe with such brave volunteers to defend it.”
“And you, Senor General, you fight with us?”
“It will be an honor,” graciously replied the hero of Panama. “But first I must see His Excellency, the President, in Bogota. I will tell him how you are hurrying to the rescue of the Isthmus.”
“Where are your soldiers?”
“Some of them you will meet on the way to Honda.”
“An officer was with you just now. Where is he?”
In the throng of volunteers surrounding them it was impossible to distinguish David, who had doubtless seized the opportunity created by the sudden recognition of Herran to force his way up the side of the trail as the General had suggested.
“Caramba!” exclaimed Herran. “He has gone on ahead. He knows the President awaits us and the despatches of great importance to the republic that we bring him. I must hurry. Pardon, Senor Capitan, if I am forced to leave you so quickly. Perhaps we meet soon again in Panama.”
With a fine show of deference, Herran saluted the King of the Bootblacks, whose eyes sparkled proudly at this recognition of his rank from a brother officer, and who signified his appreciation of the tribute by a wave of the hand to his followers and a command to them not to delay the General.
“Senores!” he shouted, “make way for the great Senor General! He comes for the Republic. After he has seen Don Jose, he will go with us to bring back Panama.”