“‘You don’t understand South American politics,’ says Denver, getting out the cigars.  ’It’s this way.  General Rompiro had the misfortune of becoming a popular idol.  He distinguished himself by leading the army in pursuit of a couple of sailors who had stolen the plaza—­or the carramba, or something belonging to the government.  The people called him a hero and the government got jealous.  The president sends for the chief of the Department of Public Edifices.  “Find me a nice, clean adobe wall,” says he, “and send Senor Rompiro up against it.  Then call out a file of soldiers and—­then let him be up against it.”  Something,’ goes on Denver, ’like the way they’ve treated Hobson and Carrie Nation in our country.  So the General had to flee.  But he was thoughtful enough to bring along his roll.  He’s got sinews of war enough to buy a battleship and float her off in the christening fluid.’

“‘What chance has he got to be president?’

“‘Wasn’t I just giving you his rating?’ says Denver.  ’His country is one of the few in South America where the presidents are elected by popular ballot.  The General can’t go there just now.  It hurts to be shot against a wall.  He needs a campaign manager to go down and whoop things up for him—­to get the boys in line and the new two-dollar bills afloat and the babies kissed and the machine in running order.  Sully, I don’t want to brag, but you remember how I brought Coughlin under the wire for leader of the nineteenth?  Ours was the banner district.  Don’t you suppose I know how to manage a little monkey-cage of a country like that?  Why, with the dough the General’s willing to turn loose I could put two more coats of Japan varnish on him and have him elected Governor of Georgia.  New York has got the finest lot of campaign managers in the world, Sully, and you give me a feeling of hauteur when you cast doubts on my ability to handle the political situation in a country so small that they have to print the names of the towns in the appendix and footnotes.’

“I argued with Denver some.  I told him that politics down in that tropical atmosphere was bound to be different from the nineteenth district; but I might just as well have been a Congressman from North Dakota trying to get an appropriation for a lighthouse and a coast survey.  Denver Galloway had ambitions in the manager line, and what I said didn’t amount to as much as a fig-leaf at the National Dressmakers’ Convention.  ’I’ll give you three days to cogitate about going,’ says Denver; ’and I’ll introduce you to General Rompiro to-morrow, so you can get his ideas drawn right from the rose wood.’

“I put on my best reception-to-Booker-Washington manner the next day and tapped the distinguished rubber-plant for what he knew.