TRAPPED IN OLD PANAMA
ashamed. He had never earned his wages more unpleasantly, but he made no aggressive movement. Remembering his errand, General Quesada waddled across the patio into the hallway and dismissed the checker. The street door slammed shut with a rattle of bolts.
"What did he say he was going to do with me?" Walter besought Captain Brincker.
"He seems very much pleased to get hold of you. I will try to cool his anger."
General Quesada returned, grunting and swearing to himself. After hanging the precious parrot cage in a tree, he dropped heavily into a wicker chair and sat staring at Walter with the most malicious satisfaction. Occasionally he chuckled as if here was a jest very much to his liking. Walter yearned for his broom-handle. He looked about for something which might serve as a weapon. Regardless of consequences, he would put his mark on the fat, ugly countenance once more.
General Quesada read his purpose and gave an order to Captain Brincker. The two captors roughly hustled Walter into a large, empty room overlooking the bay, and so close to the
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