THE ILLUSTRIOUS AMERICAN,
GENERAL ANTONIO GUZMAN BLANCO,
PRESIDENT OF THE REPUBLIC,
HAD THIS BRIDGE ERECTED FOR
THE PUBLIC GOOD.
“What a funny inscription,” observed Sam, as he stopped to read it aloud.
“General Antonio Guzman Blanco doesn’t want himself forgotten,” laughed Mark. “I have seen a dozen monuments with his name on them, and at least two dozen of his portraits.”
“He was a great man in his day,” said Enrique Morano, gravely. “A very great man. He made many improvements, such as building schools and libraries, making highways and waterworks, and bringing order out of disorder. But it would have been better had he not advertised himself quite so extensively.”
“That’s just it,” said Frank, and added, under his breath to Darry: “You’d think he was trying to advertise some special brand of Stomach Bitters, wouldn’t you?” And Darry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing outright.
“There isn’t half left of President Guzman Blanco’s monuments that there once was,” said Professor Strong. “After his downfall, and after the people became convinced that he was negotiating with foreign powers against their good, they took revenge by pulling down many of his statues, destroying his portraits and renaming many of the streets and parks christened in his honor. His fine plantation was ruined, and even the State that bore his name was re-named Miranda.”
Across the bridge the road ascended a slight hill and then passed through an avenue of tropical trees beautiful beyond description. Birds were numerous and their music added to the delight of the riders.
“It’s like a bit of paradise!” said Sam, as he drew rein, with Mark beside him. “Just look at that scenery. Did you ever behold anything so beautiful? See yonder waterfall, how it glistens in the sunshine and how gracefully the vines fall over the rocks beside it! What a spot for a painter!”
The others had also halted, all but Darry, who was secretly itching to “let the bay out,” as he told himself. Now he saw his chance and away he went, before either Professor Strong or Enrique Morano noticed him. There was a turn a hundred yards ahead, and this gained, Darry whipped up the bay and away they went up the hill and down the opposite side at a break-neck speed, the boy urging the horse on at every step.
“This is what I call riding! Whoop!” he called out. “Get up there, Huntsman, get up, I say!”