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Batangas； he had received the medal of honor。 He had had the
luck of the devil。 Wherever he held command turned out to be the
place where things broke loose。 And Aintree always attacked and
routed them； always was the man on the job。 It was his name that
appeared in the newspapers； it was his name that headed the list
of the junior officers mentioned for distinguished conduct。
Standish had followed his career with an admiration and a joy
that was without taint of envy or detraction。 He gloried in
Aintree； he delighted to know the army held such a man。 He was
grateful to Aintree for upholding the traditions of a profession
to which he himself gave all the devotion of a fanatic。 He made
a god of him。 This was the attitude of mind toward Aintree before
he came to the Isthmus。 Up to that time he had never seen his
idol。 Aintree had been only a name signed to brilliant articles
in the service magazines； a man of whom those who had served with
him or under him； when asked concerning him； spoke with loyalty
and awe； the man the newspapers called 〃the hero of Batangas。〃
And when at last he saw his hero； he believed his worship was
justified。 For Aintree looked the part。 He was built like a
greyhound with the shoulders of a stevedore。 His chin was as
projecting； and as hard； as the pointed end of a flat…iron。 His every
movement showed physical fitness； and his every glance and tone a
confidence in himself that approached insolence。 He was thirty…
eight； twelve years older than the youth who had failed to make
his commission； and who； as Aintree strode past； looked after him
with wistful； hero…worshipping eyes。 The revulsion； when it came；
was extreme。 The hero…worship gave way to contempt； to indignant
condemnation； in which there was no pity； no excuse。 That one upon
whom so much had been lavished； who for himself had accomplished
such good things； should bring disgrace upon his profession；
should by his example demoralize his men； should risk losing all
he had attained； all that had been given； was intolerable。 When
Standish learned his hero was a drunkard； when day after day
Aintree furnished visible evidences of that fact； Standish felt
Aintree had betrayed him and the army and the government that had
educated； trained； clothed； and fed him。 He regarded Aintree as
worse than Benedict Arnold； because Arnold had turned traitor for
power and money； Aintree was a traitor through mere weakness；
because he could not say 〃no〃 to a bottle。
Only in secret Standish railed against Aintree。 When his brother
policemen gossiped and jested about him； out of loyalty to the
army he remained silent。 But in his heart he could not forgive。
The man he had so generously envied； the man after whose career
he had wished to model his own； had voluntarily stepped from his
pedestal and made a swine of himself。 And not only could he not
forgive； but as day after day Aintree furnished fresh food for
his indignation he felt a fierce desire to punish。
Meanwhile； of the conduct of Aintree； men older and wiser； if less
intolerant than Standish； were beginning to take notice。 It was
after a dinner on Ancon Hill； and the women had left the men to
themselves。 They were the men who were placing the Panama Canal
on the map。 They were officers of the army who for five years had
not worn a uniform。 But for five years they had been at war with
an enemy that never slept。 Daily they had engaged in battle with
mountains； rivers； swamps； two oceans； and disease。 Where Aintree
commanded five hundred soldiers； they commanded a body of men
better drilled； better disciplined； and in number half as many as
those who formed the entire army of the United States。 The mind
of each was occupied with a world problem。 They thought and
talked in millions of millions of cubic yards of dirt； of
millions of barrels of cement； of millions of tons of steel； of
hundreds of millions of dollars； of which latter each received
enough to keep himself and his family just beyond the reach of
necessity。 To these men with the world waiting upon the outcome
of their endeavor； with responsibilities that never relaxed；
Aintree's behavior was an incident； an annoyance of less
importance than an overturned dirt train that for five minutes
dared to block the completion of their work。 But they were human
and loyal to the army； and in such an infrequent moment as this；
over the coffee and cigars； they could afford to remember the
junior officer； to feel sorry for him； for the sake of the army；
to save him from himself。
〃He takes his orders direct from the War Department；〃 said the
chief。 〃I've no authority over him。 If he'd been one of my workmen
I'd have shipped him north three months ago。〃
〃That's it；〃 said the surgeon； 〃he's not a workman。 He has nothing
to do； and idleness is the curse of the army。 And in this climate〃
〃Nothing to do！〃 snorted the civil administrator。 〃Keeping his
men in hand is what he has to do！ They're running amuck all over
Panama； getting into fights with the Spiggoty police； bringing
the uniform into contempt。 As for the climate； it's the same
climate for all of us。 Look at Butler's marines and Barber's Zone
police。 The climate hasn't hurt them。 They're as smart men as
ever wore khaki。 It's not the climate or lack of work that ails
the Thirty… third； it's their commanding officer。 'So the
colonel； so the regiment。' That's as old as the hills。 Until
Aintree takes a brace； his men won't。 Some one ought to talk to
him。 It's a shame to see a fine fellow like that going to the
dogs because no one has the courage to tell him the truth。〃
The chief smiled mockingly。
〃Then why don't you？〃 he asked。
〃I'm a civilian；〃 protested the administrator。 〃If I told him he was
going to the dogs he'd tell me to go to the devil。 No； one of you
army men must do it。 He'll listen to you。〃
Young Captain Haldane of the cavalry was at the table； he was
visiting Panama on leave as a tourist。 The chief turned to him。
〃Haldane's the man；〃 he said。 〃You're his friend and you're his
junior in rank； so what you say won't sound official。 Tell him
people are talking； tell him it won't be long before they'll be
talking in Washington。 Scare him！〃
The captain of cavalry smiled dubiously。
〃Aintree's a hard man to scare；〃 he said。 〃But if it's as bad as you
all seem to think； I'll risk it。 But； why is it；〃 he complained；
〃that whenever a man has to be told anything particularly
unpleasant they always pick on his best friend to tell him？ It
makes them both miserable。 Why not let his bitterest enemy try
it？ The enemy at least would have a fine time。〃
〃Because；〃 said the chief； 〃Aintree hasn't an enemy in the world…
except Aintree。〃
The next morning； as he had promised； Haldane called upon his
friend。 When he arrived at Las Palmas； although the morning was
well advanced toward noon； he found Aintree still under his
mosquito bars and awake only to command a drink。 The situation
furnished Haldane with his text。 He expressed his opinion of
any individual； friend or no friend； officer or civilian； who on