e three Omnis are
combined in an inconspicuous, white-haired American popularly known on
the Zone as "the Colonel"--so popularly in fact that an attempt to
replace him would probably "start something" among all classes and
races of "Zoners." That he is omnipotent--on the Zone--not many will
deny; a few have questioned--and landed in the States a week later much
less joyous but far wiser. Omniscient--well they have even Chinese
secret-service men on the Isthmus, and soldiers and marines not
infrequently go out in civilian clothes under sealed orders; to say
nothing of "the Colonel's private gum-shoe" and probably a lot of other
underground sources of information neither you nor I shall ever hear
of. But you must get used to spies under socialism, you know, until we
all wear one of Saint Peter's halos. Look at the elaborate system of
the Incas, even with their docile and uninitiative subjects. In the
matter of Omnipresence; it would be pretty hard to find a hole on the
Canal Zone where you could pull off a stunt of any length or importance
without the I.C.C. having a weather-eye on you. When it comes to the no
less indispensable ingredient of benevolence one glimpse of those mild
blue eyes would probably reassure you in that point, even without the
pleasure of watching the despot sit in judgment on his subjects in his
castle office on Sunday mornings like old Saint Louis under his
oak--though with a tin of cigarettes beside him that old Louis had to
worry along without.

This all-powerful government insists on and enforces many of the things
which Americans as a whole stand for,--Sunday closing, suppression of
resorts, forbidding of gambling. But the Zone is no test whether these
laws could be genuinely enforced in a whole nation. For down there
Panama and Colon serve as a sort of safety-valve, where a man can run
down in an hour or so on mileage or monthly pass and blow off steam;
get rid of the bad internal vapors that might cause explosion in a
ventless society. This we should not lose sight of when we boast that
there are few crimes and no real resorts on the Zone. "The Colonel"
himself will tell you there is no gambling. Yet it is curious how many
of the weekly prizes of the Panama lottery find their way into the
pockets of American canal builders, and in any Zone gathering of
whatever hour--or sex!--you are almost certain to hear flitting back
and forth mysterious whispers of "--have a 6 and a 4 this week."

The Z