The war maker : $b Being the true story of Captain George B. BoyntonSmith, Horace Herbert
History
The war maker : $b Being the true story of Captain George B. Boynton
Smith, Horace Herbert
Filibusters
During the night that came on the heels of this conversation I heard a
few pistol shots but paid no attention to them, as there seemed to be
no resultant excitement. In the morning I discovered that two hundred
alleged revolutionary plotters, of whom my young customer of the day
before was one of the chiefs, had been arrested between darkness
and dawn and rounded up in a big yard, surrounded by a high fence,
directly back of the hotel. At breakfast I was looked at curiously
and I soon heard talk that I was also to be taken into custody. A fat
and officious English butcher, who was employed by the Governor of
Panama to spy on all English-speaking visitors, had reported my meeting
with the supposed rebel leader and had advised that I be arrested on
the ground that I was fomenting internal disorder. I knew, of course,
that I could establish my innocence, but the administration of the law
in Latin America is such a fearful and wonderful thing that it might
take me weeks or months to do it, and, besides that, I had no desire
for a clash with the Colombian Government and the notoriety which
would result from it. Therefore, when trouble appeared certain I took
refuge with the British consul, who was just then the acting American
consul. I explained the situation to him and, while maintaining that
my business was perfectly legitimate, denied that I had sold the young
patriot any arms, which was technically true as the deal had not been
closed, or that I knew he was involved in any proposed revolution.
The consul sympathized with me, in compliance with the most important
of the unwritten rules of the consular service, but, after satisfying
himself that the Governor had been prejudiced against me, he advised
that the easiest and quickest way out of the difficulty was the best.
The steamship “Ferdinand de Lesseps” was leaving the next day for the
Spanish Main, which was where I wanted to go, and I went on board of
her, under escort of the consul. I was running into more trouble on
this trip than I had ever before encountered in ten times the same
length of time and it began to look as though I had brought a hoodoo on
myself by forsaking the intricate paths of adventure for the broad, not
the straight and narrow, way of ordinary trade.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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