of Balcarce, and chose General Viamont governor, who readily accepted the office.
For a short time order seemed to be reestablished, and the city once more breathed freely, but soon the same confusion began again, and the same outrages were committed in the streets. It is impossible to describe the state of constant alarm in which the people lived during two years of this strange and systematic persecution. Frequently, without any apparent cause, people were seen running through the streets, the noise of closing doors was heard from house to house; some whisper had passed around—some one had observed a suspicious looking group of men, or the clatter of hoofs had been heard.
On one of these occasions Quiroga was passing by a street, and seeing well-dressed men running without knowing for what, he looked contemptuously at a group of armed ruffians, and said, "It would not have been so, had I been here."
"And what would you have done, general?" asked his companion, "you have no influence over these people."
Quiroga raised his head, and with flashing eyes, answered, "Look you, if I should go into the street, and say to the first man I met, 'Follow me,' would he not follow?"
There was such an overpowering energy in Quiroga's words, and his figure was so imposing, that they rarely failed to impress strongly.
General Viamont resigned at last, because he saw that he could not govern; that there was a powerful hand holding the reins of the administration; and no
