“Then that cultured Red Man exhaled an arrangement of sounds with his mouth that made the Latin aggregation pause, with thoughtfulness and hesitations. The matter of his proclamation seemed to be a co-operation of the Carlisle war-whoop with the Cherokee college yell. He went at the chocolate team like a bean out of a little boy’s nigger shooter. His right elbow laid out the governor man on the gridiron, and he made a lane the length of the crowd so wide that a woman could have carried a step-ladder through it without striking against anything. All Mellinger and me had to do was to follow. “It took us just three minutes to get out of that street around to military headquarters, where Mellinger had things his own way. A colonel and a battalion of bare-toed infantry turned out and went back to the scene of the musicale with us, but the conspirator gang was gone. But we recaptured the phonograph with honours of war, and marched back to the _cuartel_ with it playing ‘All Coons Look Alike to Me.’ “The next day Mellinger takes me and Henry to one side, and begins to shed tens and twenties. “‘I want to buy that phonograph,’ says he. ‘I liked that last tune it played at the _soirée_.’ “‘This is more money than the machine is worth,’ says I. “‘’Tis government expense money,’ says Mellinger. ‘The government pays for it, and it’s getting the tune-grinder cheap.’ “Me and Henry knew that pretty well. We knew that it had saved Homer P. Mellinger’s graft when he was on the point of losing it; but we never let him know we knew it. “‘Now you boys better slide off further down the coast for a while,’ says Mellinger, ‘till I get the screws put on these fellows here. If you don’t they’ll give you trouble. And if you ever happen to see Billy Renfrew again before I do, tell him I’m coming back to New York as soon as I can make a stake—honest.’ “Me and Henry laid low until the day the steamer came back. When we saw the captain’s boat on the beach we went down and stood in the edge of the water. The captain grinned when he saw us. “‘I told you you’d be waiting,’ he says. ‘Where’s the Hamburger machine?’ “‘It stays behind,’ I says, ‘to play “Home, Sweet Home.”’ “‘I told you so,’ says the captain again. ‘Climb in the boat.’ “And that,” said Keogh, “is the way me and Henry Horsecollar introduced the phonograph into this country. Henry went back to the States, but I’ve been rummaging around in the tropics ever since. They say Mellinger never travelled a mile after that without his phonograph. I guess it kept him reminded about his graft whenever he saw the siren voice of the boodler tip him the wink with a bribe in its hand.” “I suppose he’s taking it home with him as a souvenir,” remarked the consul. “Not as a souvenir,” said Keogh. “He’ll need two of ’em in New York, running day and night.” VII MONEY MAZE