“The colonel, sir,” said I, with a freedom engendered of dining, “is a beast.”

“Well,” said the President, with a tolerant smile, “the colonel, unhappily for the country, is no true patriot.  But he is powerful; he is rich; he is, under myself alone, in command of the army.  And, moreover, I believe he stands well with the signorina.  The situation, in fact, is desperate.  I must have money, Mr. Martin.  Will your directors make me a new loan?”

I knew very well the fate that would attend any such application.  The directors were already decidedly uneasy about their first loan; shareholders had asked awkward questions, and the chairman had found no small difficulty in showing that the investment was likely to prove either safe or remunerative.  Again, only a fortnight before, the Government had made a formal application to me on the same subject.  I cabled the directors, and received a prompt reply in the single word “Tootsums,” which in our code meant, “Must absolutely and finally decline to entertain any applications.”  I communicated the contents of the cable to Senor Don Antonio de la Casabianca, the Minister of Finance, who had, of course, communicated them in turn to the President.

I ventured to remind his Excellency of these facts.  He heard me with silent attention.

“I fear,” I concluded, “therefore, that it is impossible for me to be of any assistance to your Excellency.”

He nodded, and gave a slight sigh.  Then, with an air of closing the subject, he said: 

“I suppose the directors are past reason.  Help yourself to a brandy and soda.”

“Allow me to mix one for you, sir,” I answered.

While I was preparing our beverages he remained silent.  When I had sat down again he said: 

“You occupy a very responsible position here for so young a man, Mr. Martin—­not beyond your merits, I am sure.”

I bowed.

“They leave you a pretty free hand, don’t they?”

I replied that as far as routine business went I did much as seemed good in my own eyes.

“Routine business? including investments, for instance?” he asked.

“Yes,” said I; “investments in the ordinary course of business—­discounting bills and putting money out on loan and mortgage over here.  I place the money, and merely notify the people at home of what I have done.”

“A most proper confidence to repose in you,” the President was good enough say.  “Confidence is the life of business; you must trust a man.  It would be absurd to make you send home the bills, and deeds, and certificate, and what not.  Of course they wouldn’t do that.”

Though this was a statement, somehow it also sounded like a question, so I answered: 

“As a rule they do me the compliment of taking my word.  The fact is, they are, as your Excellency says, obliged to trust somebody.”

“Exactly as I thought.  And you sometimes have large sums to place?”