he added hastily, "I won't cry long live anything. I'm the American
Consul, and I'm up here on business. So's my friend."

The man did not move his gun by so much as a straw's breadth.

"You will cry 'Long live Alvarez' or I will shoot you," said the man.

I had more leisure to observe the man than had Aiken, for it is
difficult to study the features of anyone when he is looking at you
down a gun-barrel, and it seemed to me that the muscles of the man's
mouth as he pressed it against the stock were twitching with a smile.
As the side of his face toward me was the one farther from the gun, I
was able to see this, but Aiken could not, and he answered, still more
angrily: "I tell you, I'm the American Consul. Anyway, it's not going
to do you any good to shoot me. You take me to your colonel alive, and
I'll give you two hundred dollars. You shoot me and you won't get a
cent."

The moment was serious enough, and I was thoroughly concerned both for
Aiken and myself, but when he made this offer, my nervousness, or my
sense of humor, got the upper hand of me, and I laughed.

Having laughed I made the best of it, and said:

"Offer him five hundred for the two of us. Hang the expense."

The rifle wavered in the man's hands, he steadied it, scowled at me,
bit his lips, and then burst into shouts of laughter. He sank back
against one of the rocks, and pointed at Aiken mockingly.