I was considerably annoyed to learn by this that the revolutionary party had no distinctive uniform. The one worn by the government troops which I had seen at the coast I had thought bad enough, but it was a great disappointment to hear that we had none at all. Ever since I had started from Dobbs Ferry I had been wondering what was the Honduranian uniform. I had promised myself to have my photograph taken in it. I had anticipated the pride I should have in sending the picture back to Beatrice. So I was considerably chagrined, until I decided to invent a uniform of my own, which I would wear whether anyone else wore it or not. This was even better than having to accept one which someone else had selected. As I had thought much on the subject of uniforms, I began at once to design a becoming one. We had reached a most difficult pass in the mountain, where the trail stumbled over broken masses of rock and through a thick tangle of laurel. The walls of the pass were high and the trees at the top shut out the sunlight. It was damp and cold and dark. “We’re sure to strike something here,” Aiken whispered over his shoulder. It did not seem at all unlikely. The place was the most excellent man-trap, but as to that, the whole length of the trail had lain through what nature had obviously arranged for a succession of ambushes. Aiken turned in his saddle and said, in an anxious tone: “Do you know, the nearer I get to the old man, the more I think I was a fool to come. As long as I’ve got nothing but bad news, I’d better have stayed away. Do you remember Pharaoh and the messengers of ill tidings?” I nodded, but I kept my eyes busy with the rocks and motionless laurel. My mule was slipping and kicking down pebbles, and making as much noise as a gun battery. I knew, if there were any pickets about, they could hear us coming for a quarter of a mile. “Garcia may think he’s Pharaoh,” Aiken went on, “and take it into his head it’s my fault the guns didn’t come. Laguerre may say I sold the secret to the Isthmian Line.” “Oh, he couldn’t think you’d do that!” I protested. “Well, I’ve known it done,” Aiken said. “Quay certainly sold us out at New Orleans. And Laguerre may think I went shares with him.” I began to wonder if Aiken was not probably the very worst person I could have selected to introduce me to General Laguerre. It seemed as though it certainly would have been better had I found my way to him alone. I grew so uneasy concerning my possible reception that I said, irritably: “Doesn’t the General know you well enough to trust you?”