“It is impossible!” repeated Garavel, his agitation growing more pronounced.  “General Alfarez is my friend.  His son will be my son.”

“Ramon!  Is Ramon engaged to your daughter?”

“Yes,” exclaimed the banker, shortly.  He began to pace the room.

“What difference would that make, if the young people love each other?”

“Certainly,” Cortlandt agreed.  “They are not children.”

“As for love, Ramon loves, and—­my daughter will love also, once she is married, for she is a Garavel.”

“If Ramon isn’t satisfactory to her, ought you to force her inclination?” Mrs. Cortlandt offered, eagerly.  But the banker flung his arms aloft in a gesture of half-humorous despair.

“Oh-h!  These young ladies!” he cried.  “They do not know what they want.  What pleases to-day, displeases to-morrow.  It is ‘Yes’ and ‘No,’ ‘Yes’ and ‘No,’ until one must decide for them.  That, after all, is best.”  He paused abruptly.  “This comes upon me like a flood, my friends.  I am swept away, and yet I—­I will need to think seriously.”

“Certainly.”

“To an honorable man the salary will mean nothing.  I have many affairs; I fear I cannot afford this sacrifice.”

“Would you retire in favor of some one who could afford it?”

“Alfarez is honest.”

“Alfarez cannot be President.”

“It would require a great deal of money.  I am considered a rich man, but I have discounted the future, and my enterprises—­” He flung out his arms.  “I have spread out.  I must be careful.  It is not alone my money that I have invested.”

“It will require very little money,” said Cortlandt.  “I have been from David to Darien, from Bocas to Colon and I know the public sentiment.”

“Speaking of David,” his wife added; “it was you who first projected the railroad to that point, Senor Garavel.”

“Yes, I saw that it was needed.  It would make Panama,” he said, simply.

“Under your administration it can be built.  Mr. Cortlandt can assure you of our government’s earnest co-operation.  That would not be the case if General Alfarez were elected.  Perhaps the Colombian boundary can be settled.  There also our influence might avail.  Those two steps forward would make the name of Garavel as famous in Panama as it is in Guatemala.”

“Those are important issues for any loyal Panamanian,” he admitted.

“And you love your daughter—­you say your life is, hers.  Your honor would be hers also.  Senorita Garavel would have no cause to regret her father’s presidency.”

“Oh, it is useless to argue,” smiled the Spaniard.  “I am weak.  I am human.  I am also patriotic, and I realize that our little country must look to your great one for its stimulus.  Our life must be moulded after yours.  For years I have dreamed of a railroad to David, which would some day form a link in the great system that will join the three Americas.  I have pictured our