"Send us to Panama!" bawled Pedro, acting as spokesman for his men. "Dear me!" exclaimed the old man, enjoying the situation and ignoring its political consequences. "Panama is far off--and why should I send such good citizens away from Bogota?" "Por la Patria! Por la Patria! To fight the Yankees!" "The Yankees? But why----" "They have stolen Panama. They are pigs!" "What a people!" he exclaimed, nonplussed. "I am sorry for that. Well, if I send you, what will you do?" "Esta bueno! Don Jose will send us to kill the Yankees!" they shouted enthusiastically. "No! No! I didn't say that!" he expostulated; then continued, as if by rote: "The government will look after Panama. If fighting is needed to preserve the republic, the army will do its duty"--an assurance which increased the martial swagger of the gold-braided toy captain, although unappreciated by his men. "We will fight with the army, Don Jose," declared Pedro. "We will drive out the Yankees and save Panama." "Viva Colombia! Baja los Yankees!" shouted the peons. As this voiced the popular sentiment, and as Don Jose's loyalty in the Panama affair had been questioned by some of his enemies, no sufficiently discreet reply occurred to the puzzled schoolmaster, whose intellectual gifts, moreover, were lacking in the quick give-and-take needed for street oratory. So, smiling benignly, and somewhat fatuously, upon the noisy rabble, he thrust his hand deeper into his coat, peered more owlishly through his gold-rimmed glasses and, forgetting its future possibilities, got such enjoyment as he could out of the novel situation. The volunteers exploded with joy over the president's apparent approval of their demand. Had Pedro cared to stop for further talk the impatience of his comrades would have prevented him. Although these peons had no definite plan, they were looking for something more exciting than an exchange of opinions with this old grey-beard of San Carlos. A march through the city, and then on to Panama, seemed as good a program as any to men who were indifferent to the dry details of geography. There were more cries of "Down with the Yankees!" and cheers for Don Jose. Then, before that bewildered statesman could take himself off, his unwashed admirers filed past his balcony, leaving the toy captain and his men to close the gates they had so courageously guarded.