Presently Peter heard the Rioguayan refer to the "German victory at Jutland". "I beg your pardon, Don Ramon," he said quietly, "but did you say 'German victory'?" "Was it not so?" asked Diaz, with his irritating leer. "Rather not," declared Peter, with some heat. He fully expected his uncle to support him, but Uncle Brian gave no sign. "Listen: I tell you a fairy tale," began Diaz. "You've told it already, Don Ramon." "A fable, I mean," continued the Rioguayan. "A bull-dog and a fierce cat lived in a farmyard. They were very great friends. On the other side of the yard a hound-wolf--no, I mean a wolf-hound--lived in a stone kennel. The wolf-hound did not love the bull-dog and the cat. In fact, they quarrelled, but the wolf-hound was not strong enough to fight the bull-dog. One day, the cat walked in front of the wolf-dog's kennel, and the wolf-dog pounced on him. Oh yes, the cat fought strongly, but the wolf-dog bit him hard. Then the cat called for help to his friend the bull-dog. Up came the bull-dog and placed himself between the wolf-hound and his kennel, before the wolf-hound could break away from the cat. 'Now,' said the bull-dog, 'I've got you.' Then the wolfhound was frightened, because the bull-dog had got him in the open away from his kennel. But the bull-dog was in no hurry. He sat down to scratch himself. As he did that the wolf-hound slipped past the bull-dog and regained his kennel, having hurt the cat far more than he had hurt himself. Therefore the wolf-hound won. Do you see my point?" Peter shook his head. "You are very dense, young man," said Don Ramon reprovingly. "For the bull-dog substitute your Admiral Jellicoe, the cat represents Beatty, and the wolfhound von Scheer. Can you deny that the Germans won?" "Certainly," replied Peter. "A victory is decided by its results. Did the Hun fleet come out again before the Armistice? Only once, and then it never meant to fight. It tried to lure Beatty into a nest of submarines. Failing in that, it promptly legged it back for all it was worth. At Jutland, Don Ramon, the German fleet was beaten and totally demoralized. Its surrender and internment at Scapa prove that." Don Ramon threw out his hands and shrugged his shoulders. "Mr. Strong," he said, turning to Uncle Brian, "I cannot convince this headstrong nephew of yours. But we will make good use of him, will we not? I must now wish you good-night, gentlemen." Brian Strong escorted his visitor to the _patio_ where his car was waiting. "Insufferable sweep," soliloquized Peter, when he found himself alone. "Wonder what he was driving at when he said 'we will make good use of him'? He isn't jonnick, that's a dead cert. And hanged if I can fathom Uncle Brian's attitude towards him." It was quite five minutes before Brian Strong rejoined his nephew. Peter fancied that his face looked drawn and haggard.