His smile deepened as he caught the scowl of a Spaniard sitting near him. His glance traveled on, and, as he studied the flushed, sodden faces, a sudden horror of himself and his surroundings shook him. He passed a nervous hand over his damp forehead. Why had his memory played him so scurvy a trick? The past few years were not pleasant to contemplate, and the future even less so. He half started from his chair, then sank back and summoned the _mozo_. Quickly he gave his order in fluent Spanish, and waited impatiently for the man's return. He had been fortunate at the gaming table the night before, and could purchase a moment's respite from the torments of an elusive memory. Memory, in whose wondrous train follow the joys of childhood, parents and home! The stranger's strong hand trembled as he stroked his beard. Why was he an outcast? For him alone there were no childhood and no home; his thinking life began as a full-grown man. Was there to be no awakening? In a few moments the _mozo_ returned, and placed a glass and bottle of liquor before him. The stranger hastily filled and drank. As the stimulant crept through his veins, a feeling of physical contentment replaced all other sensations, and, lighting a cigar, he was slowly sinking once more into reverie when from behind the partition he heard a voice: "No names, please." The words, spoken clearly in English, startled him from his abstraction, and he glanced through the vine and, himself unseen, saw two men sitting at a table. They had apparently entered the patio from another part of the house. "Quite right, I approve your caution." The words were also in English, but with a strong foreign accent, and the speaker, a man of middle age and fine physique, laid some papers on the table before them. "Where is the Senator this evening?" "He accompanied several members of the Congressional party to inspect the plant of the Quartermaster and Subsistence Departments, and on his return will dine with Major Reynolds and several other officers at the hotel." "I see." The foreigner drummed impatiently on the table. "You were late in keeping your appointment." "I had the devil's own time in finding this dive," returned the younger man, and, as he moved his chair half around, the inquisitive stranger, peeping through the leaves of the vine, obtained a view of the speaker's boyish face. The weak mouth was partly hidden by a short black mustache; the features were well cut, and by some would have been called handsome. The older man gave vent to a half-smothered chuckle. "Goethals and Gorgas have reformed the Canal Zone, and the local government is trying to do the same with Panama, but, _por Dios_, drinking and gambling continue _unnoticed_ in Colon," he said, dryly. "I find a room in this house most convenient during my short visits here. No '_gringo_'," he sneered, "dare show his face in this room."