I assure you that the society of the beautiful senoritas at the capital is far preferable to me than to proceed with the wet, cold work I have been sent to do." The officer was polite enough to regret that he could not accompany the guard.
"I would be sorry to see a brave officer like yourself get into any trouble over this," continued Paul.

"You know how anxious your superiors are to have the wires repaired in order to re-establish communication with Chile, though I am sure I do not fancy the work and am well satisfied to have my journey interrupted." The officer took the pass again and carefully ran his eyes over it, as Boyton, apparently in the most happy humor, puffed away at his cigar.
"I think you are all right," said the officer at last, returning the paper, "you can go on." Paul's heart gave such a thump of joy that he was afraid the Chilean would hear or see it; but the latter observed nothing.

With assumed reluctance, he bade the officer good night, mounted his mule and rode slowly away.

As soon as he was out of sight and hearing, he dug his heels into the mule's sides and was galloping swiftly across the pampas toward the coast.

He could detect no signs of pursuit and in about an hour he heard the sweetest music that had ever soothed his ears.
It was the booming of the breakers near Ancon.
Riding close to the edge of the cliff, he stripped everything off of the mules and with a "good bye, old fellow, you have served me well," and a gentle pat on the neck, he turned its head toward the pampas and it scampered away.