ake. He regarded all the
islands of the West Indies as properly under the sheltering wing of the
United States. He looked with unfriendly eye upon the possession of
certain of the islands by England, France and Holland, and especially
distrusted the colonies of European powers upon South American and
Central American shores.

Stuart was even more intense in his patriotism. He had not lived in the
United States since early childhood, and saw the country of the Stars
and Stripes enhaloed by romance.

Though Stuart had been brought up in Cuba, all his tastes ran to things
American. He had learned to play pelota, and was a fair player, but the
rare occasions when he could get a game of baseball suited him far
better. He cared nothing for books unless they dealt with the United
States, and then he read with avidity. Western stories fired his
imagination, the more so because the life they described was so
different from his own.

Stuart was not the type of boy always seeking a fight, but, beneath his
somewhat gentle brown eyes and dark hair, there was a square aggressive
chin, revealing that trait of character known as a "terrible finisher."
It took a good deal to start Stuart, but he was a terror, once started.
Any criticism of the United States was enough to get him going. His
Cuban schoolmates had found that out, and, whenever Stuart was around,
the letters "U. S." were treated with respect.

This square chin was aggressively thrust forward now, as the boy looked
into the night. There was trouble in the air. He felt it. Deeper down
than the disturbed feelings produced by the tom-tom, he sensed a
prescience of evil on its way.

When, therefore, a figure emerged from the forest into the clearing, and
Stuart saw that this figure was not his father, but that of a negro, the
boy stiffened himself.

"You--Stuart?" the newcomer queried.

"Yes," replied the boy, "that's my name."

The negro hardly hesitated. He walked on, though Stuart was full in the
doorway, jostled him aside roughly, and entered. This attitude toward
the white man, unheard of anywhere else, is common in up-country Haiti,
where, for a century, the black man has ruled, and where the white man
is hated and despised.

A hard stone-like gleam came into Stuart's eyes, but even his mounting
rage did not blind him to the fact that the negro was twice his size and
three times as muscular. Nor did he forget that Hippolyte was in the
hut, and, in any case of t