m to the farther end of the veranda. "Well, what is it?" she said.

"What is what?" laughed Clay. He seated himself on the rail of the
veranda, with his face to the avenue and the driveway leading to the
house. They could hear the others from the back of the house, and the
voice of young Langham, who was giving an imitation of MacWilliams, and
singing with peculiar emphasis, "There is no place like Home, Sweet
Home."

"Why are the men guarding the Palms, and why did you go to the Plaza
Bolivar this morning at daybreak? Alice says you left them there. I
want to know what it means. I am nearly as old as Ted, and he knows.
The men wouldn't tell me."

"What men?"

"King's men from the 'Vesta'. I saw some of them dodging around in the
bushes, and I went to find out what they were doing, and I walked into
fifteen of them at your office. They have hammocks swung all over the
veranda, and a quick-firing gun made fast to the steps, and muskets
stacked all about, just like real soldiers, but they wouldn't tell me
why."

"We'll put you in the carcel," said Clay, "if you go spying on our
forces. Your father doesn't wish you to know anything about it, but,
since you have found it out for yourself, you might as well know what
little there is to know. It's the same story. Mendoza is getting ready
to start his revolution, or, rather, he has started it."

"Why don't you stop him?" asked Hope.

"You are very flattering," said Clay. "Even if I could stop him, it's
not my business to do it as yet. I have to wait until he interferes
with me, or my mines, or my workmen. Alvarez is the man who should
stop him, but he is afraid. We cannot do anything until he makes the
first move. If I were the President, I'd have Mendoza shot to-morrow
morning and declare martial law. Then I'd arrest everybody I didn't
like, and levy forced loans on all the merchants, and sail away to
Paris and live happy ever after. That's what Mendoza would do if he
caught any one plotting against him. And that's what Alvarez should
do, too, according to his lights, if he had the courage of his
convictions, and of his education. I like to see a man play his part
properly, don't you? If you are an emperor, you ought to conduct
yourself like one, as our German friend does. Or if you are a
prize-fighter, you ought to be a human bulldog. There's no such thing
as a gentlemanly pugilist, any more than there can be a virtuous
burglar. And if you're a