The American shrugged his broad shoulders ever so slightly. "That is a matter that rests wholly with yourself, my dear Don Tomaso. I might suggest, however, that two hundred thousand dollars is a handsome price for a bloodless revolution. My instructions, by which I am bound absolutely, empower me to offer you this amount on the conditions already specified, and require me to cable. an immediate reply." He paused. "Am I to cable your acceptance?"

"I accept vour offer," said Don Tonaso Figales.

*

It will merely be rehearsing familiar facts to recall how, after a bit of sharp fighting on the Isthmus, the Republic of Sojara came into being; and how, at the first session of the Legislature of Sojara a bill was passed granting to the Unitel States the exclusive franchise to build the Canal. It was also about this time, you will remember, that the President shocked some of the political Pharisees y naming as ambassador to one of the most important courts of Europe one

staunch Democrat of the old school.

These matters are all pretty well known. But there are two remarkable facts in this connection of which not even the State Department itself was ever aware. Firstly, that the vital negotiations leading to the Canal franchise were carried through by the single-handed efforts of a single man; and secondly, that this well-nigh impossible feat was achieved not only without authorization from the United States Government but even without the knowledge of Colonel Moody himself.

Kendall Wright, however, smilingly maintains that the credit for the success of his negotiations belongs wholly to a certain Montgomery street tailor-who shall be nameless. As a matter of fact. the credit belongs almost entirely to Kendall Wright, himself. But it is reasonable to suppose that if this tailor had not by mistake sent Kendall Wright a dress suit belonging to the Third Assistant Secretary of State (then visiting in San Francisco), it might have been many months before the fat Don Tomaso consented to see his way clear to the Republic of Sojara.

W

WHILE beloved San Francisco was being devastated last April the automobile was making the greatest record in its history. With out its aid, the damage done the city would have been far greater, and the sufferings of the inhabitants would have been immeasurably increased. Every one who passed through those thrilling days concedes these facts. Those who had need of sure and rapid transit in the troublous times from April 18 onward, emphasize them upon every occasion.

Over disrupted streets and piles of debris, through fire, smoke and explosions, the automobile dashed, bearing dead and injured, conveying officials, surgeons, and messengers, bringing dynamite, medicines, food and urgently needed supplies of nearly every description.

Never did the machines falter. They could always be depended upon. They They knew neither fear nor fatigue. As fresh and ready for further duty after twenty

four hours continuous service as at the start, they accomplished what no beast of burden in the world could have accomplished. Speed, reliability, endurance, were their's in highest degree.

The great misfortune that befell the fair city by the Golden Gate produced a more trying ordeal for the automobile than any speed trial, endurance test, or hill climbing contest ever held, and from the ordeal the automobile emerged triumphant. Even experienced chauffeurs were astonished at the small amount of repairs needed by machines of popular makes after not only days, but weeks, of the severest strain.

City officials, business men, journalists, army and navy, physicians and surgeons, relief agents, private citizens-persons of every calling, who needed quick and certain conveyance-and who did not need it then?-looked for it to the automobile, formerly widely and irreverently called the "devil wagon." Let no one

call it "devil wagon" to-day in the presence of a San Franciscan of 1906. To him it is an 66 angel wagon" forever. Hardly had the earthquake of the early morning ended when the "honk" of the automobile was heard far and near. The all-night machines which are to be found at all hours in the down-town sections of the city were the first in action. The falling cornices, sometimes the falling chimneys, and even walls of the older buildings aroused their chauffeurs and their other occupants from the dismay of the first shock, and thev quickly were in motion. From that time on, the garages, public and private, poured forth their machines on errands of all kinds. The fire chiefs were early in action, hastening to the scenes of the first conflagrations that broke out, only to find out in too brief a time that they were powerless to stop the flames. The newspapermen were as early as any one to bestir themselves, many before they had turned home after a night of hard routine work. It took but the first glance to see that the street railway systems were paralyzed. Horses were few and of little

re

value for rapid transit. The automobile was the only solution to the problem.

In less than an hour after the 'quake. the streets were filled with automobiles. The speed regulations of the city ordinances were the first laws to be suspended, the suspension of many other laws following in the face of the great emergency. It was a case of pedestrians taking care of themselves, for the swift moving machines were not out for pleasure or for sport. They were the messengers of those in places of responsibility or the bearers of the victims of the disaster. In one would be seen one, two or even more feeble forms, some bandaged, some groaning in agony-others with the ashen pallor of death. Some were bound to the emergency hospitals, especially the great temporary one improvised in the Mechanics' Pavilion, only to be evacuated a few hours later before the rapidly advancing flames. Others were bound for the morgues, quickly increasing in number.

Long before noon, the variety of uses to which the automobiles were put had increased enormously. While scores were

occupied in the work of saving life or removing dead bodies, others were in the service of the officers, civil and military, who strove to save, first the city, then, when hope was gone, to save what was left of it. If the dynamite-last resort of the fire fighters-were wanted from Alcatraz, Angel Island, Mare Island or elsewhere, an automobile was called upon to hasten it to the point where ordered. Here was one of the most dramatic and picturesque features of the automobile's use. Dynamite is not a thing to be handled like pig iron. It explodes by concussion as well as by detonation. Rushing it through the rough streets, where a spill-out was likely at almost any moment was ticklish business. It meant not only danger to those conveying it, but to all in the neighborhood. And some of the automobiles carried enough dynamite at one load to blow a whole block to smithereens. But the dynamite operators were not thinking of personal danger. They thought only of the danger to the stricken city. Upon each dynamite car was a big sign bearing the word "Dynamite." People gave such cars a wide berth.

A

Signs were put upon all the official machines with great rapidity. Some read "Police," others "U. S. Army," "Ambulance," "Relief," and the like. The Red Cross flag flew from many. These signs meant non-interference from the sentries, patrols and others in authority, for an uncredentialed automobile was at the mercy of any official who chose to commandeer it. That was one of the amusing features of the situation. private automobile might be speeding along or standing still, on some duty of utmost importance to its owner or OCcupant, yet in a moment a civil or military officer, even a policeman or private soldier was apt to step up to it and order the chauffeur to perform some special duty. The chauffeur, unless already on official business, had to obey. If he did not, he was arrested and the machin? confiscated. If he tried to escape by flight he was fired upon. It was a case of the good of the general public, not of individuals. Yet to the credit of the automobilists be it said that few of them balked. The San Francisco spirit of those trying days was universally one of help to all. Private loss or gain was of