Don Ramon Diaz was a tall, swarthy individual, with rather plump features, loose lipped, and with a nose that bore a resemblance to a parrot's beak. His dark hair was long and plastered down with pomade. When he smiled, which was very frequently, the effort was "like the grin of a sea-sick monkey", as Peter afterwards described it. He wore evening dress, with a broad crimson sash over his shoulder and the Order of the Sun of Rioguay on his breast. His tobacco-stained fingers were glittering with diamond rings. "Here is my nephew, Peter Corbold, Señor Diaz," announced Brian. Both men bowed--Ramon Diaz with the grace and dignity of an hidalgo of Old Spain, Peter with as much display of cordiality as he could muster. "S'pose he's a natural product of the country," thought Peter. "Dashed if I like the cut of his jib; but since he's my uncle's friend, I must take him at his own valuation--not mine." "So you have arrived in Rioguay, young man," exclaimed Don Ramon Diaz, speaking in tolerable English. "Yes, I blew in quite unexpectedly this evening," replied Peter, unconsciously using a general naval term. "Blew in, ah!" exclaimed Don Ramon. "You are an aviator then?" "No," corrected Peter. "I was a naval officer. 'Blew in' means 'dropped in'." "Dropped in what?" inquired Diaz. Peter went into explanations. The Rioguayan listened intently, and, pulling a notebook from his pocket, made a note of the term Peter had used. "I know most of the English slang words," he declared. "For seven years I lived in London. I do not like it. What is your opinion of Rioguay?" "I haven't seen very much of it," said Peter. "It's rather too early for me to give an opinion." Don Ramon smiled superciliously. "Your nephew, Mr. Strong, is more discreet than the majority of your countrymen," he remarked. "I believe he is here to assist you in your work?" "I hope so," replied Uncle Brian. "Up to the present, we have had little time to discuss matters." For some moments there was an awkward pause. Apparently Don Ramon wanted to ask a question, but hesitated to do so. Peter, having taken a dislike to the man--although he refrained as much as possible from showing it--was quite in the dark as to who and what Don Ramon Diaz was, and whether his uncle regarded the Rioguayan merely as an acquaintance, or a person with whom he had business relations. "Don Ramon is the Minister for Aviation in the Republic of Rioguay," explained Uncle Brian. "I suppose you didn't know that out here there is a well-organized commercial air-service?" "I saw a flying-boat when we were entering San Antonio harbour," replied Peter. "It interested you, then," remarked Don Ramon. "Naturally," agreed young Corbold. By degrees, Diaz steered the conversation into a channel that Peter wished particularly to avoid in present circumstances, and soon the latter found himself engaged in a controversy about the respective merits of the navies of the Great Powers.