good thing," he exclaimed, with a laugh, "that the Raleigh's on the
wrong side of the Isthmus. If we were in the Caribbean, they might
order us to make you give back those ships. As it is, we can't get
marines here from the Pacific under three days. So I'd better start
them at once," he added, suddenly. "Good-by, I must wire the Captain."

"Don't let the United States Navy do anything reckless," I said. "I'm
not so sure you could take those ships, and I'm not so sure your
marines can get here in three days, either, or that they ever could
get here."

Lowell gave a shout of derision.

"What," he cried, "you'd fight against your country's flag?"

I told him he must not forget that at West Point they had decided I
was not good enough to fight for my country's flag.

"We've three ships of our own now," I added, with a grin. "How would
you like to be Rear Admiral of the naval forces of Honduras?"

Lowell caught up his reins in mock terror.

"What!" he cried. "You'd dare to bribe an American officer? And with
such a fat bribe, too?" he exclaimed. "A Rear-Admiral at my age!
That's dangerously near my price. I'm afraid to listen to you. Good-
by." He waved his hand and started down the street. "Good-by, Satan,"
he called back to me, and I laughed, and he rode away.

That was the end of the laughter, of the jests, of the play-acting.