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 “In a few more days the campaign managers from the other towns came sliding into Espiritu. Our headquarters was a busy place. We had an interpreter, and ice-water, and drinks, and cigars, and Denver flashed the General’s roll so often that it got so small you could n’t have bought a Republican vote in Ohio with it.

“And then Denver cabled to General Rompiro for ten thousand dollars more, and got it.

“There were a number of Americans in Espiritu, but they were all in business or grafts of some kind, and would n’t take any hand in politics, which was sensible enough. But they showed me and Denver a fine time, and fixed us up so we could get decent things to eat and drink. There was one American, named Hicks, used to come and loaf at the headquarters. Hicks had had fourteen years of Espiritu. He was six feet four and weighed in at 135. Cocoa was his line; and coast fever and the climate had taken all the life out of him. They said he had n’t smiled in eight years. His face was three feet long, and it never moved except when he opened it to take quinine. He used to sit in our headquarters and kill fleas and talk sarcastic.

“‘I don’t take much interest in politics,’ says Hicks, one day, ‘but I’d like you to tell me what you’re trying to do down here, Galloway?’

“‘Were boosting General Rompiro, of course,’ says Denver. ‘We’re going to put him in the presidential chair. I’m his manager.’

“‘Well,’ says Hicks, ‘if I was you I’d be a little slower about it. You’ve got a long time ahead of you, you know.’