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Updated: May 15, 2025
One has to be a real world-beater to do that. If the Cortlandts hadn't backed us, some other chaps with influence would have stepped in above us. Take Blakeley, for instance. He is nothing extra, and he doesn't know half as much about this business as I do; but he's the brother-in- law of Colonel Jolson, and he'd have landed the job sure if it hadn't been for our friends.
"The Cortlandts seem to have considerable influence for outsiders. I thought I'd have to begin at the bottom." Runnels glanced at his companion quickly. "Outsiders! You don't call them outsiders?" "I never quite figured out who they are. Funny, by-the-way, how everybody says 'they' in referring to them." "Oh, she's the whole team.
Of course, the Cortlandts might do more for you than they would for me, and you might be able to hang on." "Then this would seem to end our fine hopes, eh?" "Rather!" Runnels broke out, bitterly. "I've worked like a nigger, Kirk, and I deserve promotion if anybody ever did. This other fellow is a dub he has proven that. Why, I've forgotten more railroading than he'll ever know.
Unlike the Garavel home, the house which the Cortlandts had leased was set upon the water- front, its rear balcony overlooking the sea where it lapped the foundation of the city wall. It was a delightful old place, shut off from the street by a yard filled with flowering plants and shrubs, and, though flanked in true Spanish fashion by stores and shops, it was roomy and comfortable.
It so happened that just before my visit its stucco covering had been removed, disclosing to view the portholes for musketry intended to discourage the too enthusiastic approaches of its Indian neighbors. This stucco was spread over the building when the grandfather of the present generation of Van Cortlandts brought his bride home.
But the afternoon was still a long way off, and he must be content to dream until the hour came. He was too early for the Cortlandts, and he breakfasted alone. When he strolled out upon the veranda for his smoke he found Allan waiting for him, as usual.
"The greater honor due them," I retorted. "Honor! Fol-de-rol! Had it been any other patroon but me, he'd turn his manor-house into a court-house, arrest 'em, try 'em, and hang a few for luck! In the old days, I'll warrant you, the Cosbys would have stood no such nonsense no, nor the Livingstons, nor the Van Cortlandts.
Others scoffed at the idea, although they claimed that this would be the last election ever held in Panama. But all united in declaring that, whatever the work to which the Cortlandts had been assigned, they were doing it well. No one but the woman herself and her husband really understood the tremendous difficulties of their task or the vital issues at stake.
The truth was that Andres Garavel had not hesitated long after that memorable night at the Tivoli before accepting the brilliant prize which the Cortlandts had dangled so alluringly before his eyes, and, the decision once made, he had entered into the scheme with all his soul. He was wise enough, however, to leave his destiny largely in their hands.
Then, when he was twenty-eight years old he married Susanna DeLancey, whose father, Etienne DeLancey, was a Huguenot refugee, who, settling here, soon changed the Etienne to Stephen, and married a daughter of one of the Dutch Van Cortlandts.
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