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Chapter 22-2
“As long as it takes to close our office and no longer. I don’t relish getting caught in a dust up.” Our ship tied up at Pier 7 in Manila, and I handed the Spanish customs officer some Canadian identity papers that Bat had wrangled from the honorary Canadian consul in Denver. Bat was himself born in Canada and therefore had some pull with his fellow Canadian. He got the papers for me after I told him Katharina had asked me to travel to Manila to make sure her brother was okay. “War is coming, and you don’t want to be a Yankee floating around in that stew,” Bat had told me. As I handed the customs officer my Canadian papers, he looked me up and down suspiciously. “Eres Americano?” he challenged. “Canada,” I said. “Can-na-da.” “Nada?” he replied. “No. Yo Soy de Canadá. Vancou
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