The crime was committed within the limits of Colon, and the Panaman officials quite properly arrested the offender and put him in prison under a charge of murder. Immediately, the "brotherhood," or whatever the organization to which the man belonged is correctly termed, began to agitate for his release and threatened a strike in case their demand should not be complied with. There was only one thing for the Commission to do, and that was to secure the murderer's release with all the despatch possible. After a brief confinement, he was set at liberty and has never been brought to trial.

Within a year, a native of America, who became a Panaman citizen some time ago and gained a position of some importance in his adopted country, committed as cold-blooded and brutal a murder as it is possible to conceive. The victim was an American who, as the editor of a local newspaper, had given offence to the murderer. The latter was allowed bail, pending his trial, which terminated in a complete acquittal.

In the time of the French, Panama was, in a sense, a busier place than it is now, but a great deal of its business was of a questionable character. The offices of the Panama Canal

Company were in the heart of the city. They occupied a large building which still stands in a corner of the Cathedral Plaza. Around this square were a number of substantial buildings and a few comfortable residences stood in the streets that lead off it. But, for the greater part, the city was a squalid collection of dives, gin shops, and gambling hells. Aside from a handful of well-to-do, educated Colombians, a few employes of the Panama Canal Company, and the foreign consuls, the population of the city was made up of a very low class. The Panamans themselves were about as mixed a lot as you would find anywhere, almost every nation on earth entering into their composition. There were always a number of negroes from the canal works, more or less drunk and quarrelsome, hanging about the entrances to the groggeries. This element was reinforced by the crowd of loafers of all nationalities with whom the city was infested.

The present condition of Panama is in striking contrast with what it was twenty, or even ten, years ago. The worst sections have been cleaned out. The principal streets have been widened and all of them are paved and drained. Comparatively decent saloons, where order is

maintained, have taken the place of the low liquor shops that abounded formerly. In this connection, it may be well to say that the natives are markedly abstemious in the use of alcohol. I do not recollect to have ever seen a Panaman intoxicated.

A street railway was projected by an American corporation a few years ago, but the enterprise came to nought and it is doubtful whether it would have paid. The limits of the city are not extensive and one of the hacks, which afford sufficiently convenient means of transportation, will carry a passenger from any one point in it to any other for ten cents. There are a number of large stores, some of the best being run by Chinese, of whom there is a numerous colony in Panama.

The police seem to have been selected for their lack of stature. They are temptingly small and it is little to be wondered at that the most prevalent violation of law seems to consist of "beating a policeman." What they lack in size, they make up for in numbers. They are to be seen at every corner, and where one is at the moment. ten will appear instantly at the sound of his whistle. And that whistle is blown whenever there is anything doing. A

Panaman policeman would not attempt to kick a dog without the aid of a fellow bluecoat. I once saw an Irish-American steam-shoveller arrested in the streets of the city. He was very mellow, but perfectly harmless and good humored. He began the trouble by pleasantly chucking one of the guardians of the peace under the chin. Now to wound the dignity of a Panaman policeman is worse than to give him a blow in the face. The affronted " 66 bobby backed into the middle of the road and blew his whistle. Instantly his twin brother-if the evidence of the genial toper was worth anything-appeared on the scene, blowing his whistle as he ran. Presently there were an even dozen of "the finest " on the spot, each armed with a rifle and a whistle. Meanwhile, the steam-shoveller had made himself comfortable with his back against the wall and evidently enjoyed the situation immensely. He grinned amicably at the group of helmeted pygmies while treating them to a string of choice slang, of which they understood not a word.

After a consultation, the platoon, or brigade, or whatever it was, decided to charge. They came on hesitatingly with a clatter of arms

and a shout. The genial Irish-American lazily leaned forward and buffeted the foremost on the side of the head, knocking him backwards among his fellows and disorganizing the ranks. They retired to reform and hold another consultation.

This manœuvre was performed three or four times with the same result. By this time the force had been swelled to eighteen and the canal man had become tired of the game. He wanted to sleep and quietly lay down and stretched out comfortably. Thereupon the entire detachment of bluecoats piled on top of him, reminding me forcibly of Gulliver and the Lilliputians.

At the time of Colombian rule, this man would have been shot off hand. As it was, he was merely locked up over night, after being somewhat roughly man-handled, and fined in the morning.

I was walking along one of the deserted main streets of the city, at about two o'clock in the morning, when I came across five policemen standing in front of a house from which issued the most appalling cries and groans I have ever heard. It was pretty evident that a woman was being murdered within. The policemen