" And sure enough, there, three doors on down,
they were--every one of them--the two doctors' wives buried under
the two biggest tablecloths. . .
Trading slowed down. The ship's passengers went back to stow
packages and get ready to night club. They were to come to the
Washington and pick up A.M. Nothing was said about me. They never
came. The Santa Margarita, faithful to the winds of commerce,
sailed at midnight.
The night before we had been put to sleep by the gentle roll of
the Pacific. That night we went to sleep with the Atlantic
beating at the foundations of our hotel--almost.
TO THE PACIFIC BY RAIL
I knew the general manager of the Panama Railway. Met him through
a college friend. . . The railroad people gave us passes. They
would send the railroad "jitney" to our hotel to pick up the
baggage and us to catch the 12 o'clock train for Balboa. They
would have a van at Balboa to take us to the Tivoli hotel.
The train ride of 30 miles took about one and a quarter hours--
diesel power. We came first class. The right-of-way was bound by
wild banana, reed and semi-jungle. The road had a good many
bridges, cuts, curves, considerable grade and evidently cost a
good deal of money.
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