Captain O’Shea, at his ease in most circumstances, and particularly now when he held the whip-hand, asked at once: “Are we to have the pleasure of paying our respects to His Majesty?” “You Americans are so delightfully informal,” smiled the minister of finance. “An audience is arranged beforehand if I consider it worth while.” “But this king of yours takes a special interest in ships and sailors,” suggested O’Shea. “And we have information that he will find useful.” Baron Frederick Martin Strothers changed color just a trifle and his manner was perceptibly uneasy as he explained: “I am awfully sorry, but he is not in at present. He will be disappointed, I’m sure. You are shipmasters or something of the sort, I take it.” “You guess right,” was the dry comment of O’Shea. “I have heard that ye are fond of talking to seafaring men yourself.” The shot went home. The young man moved in his chair and looked painfully uncomfortable. Nervously twisting a cigar in his fingers, he replied: “Ah, yes. Now I know. You must have seen me at the East India Docks.” “There or thereabouts, but no matter,” said O’Shea. “His Majesty is not in, you say. And when will he be in the hotel again?” “Not for several hours. He went out with the minister of foreign affairs to keep an important appointment. Will you state your business to me? That is the customary procedure.” Johnny Kent was for denouncing the young man to his face, but O’Shea nudged him and smoothly made answer: “It would please us better to see the king himself. We can come again, or we can look for him on his way in and out of the hotel.” The young man could not dissemble signs of impatience to be rid of these pertinacious intruders. “If you have a ship to sell, or you are looking for positions, this is only wasting time,” said he. “I presume you heard something of our errand among the docks.” “Yes, we have heard of it,” and O’Shea bit off the words. “Well, Johnny, shall we go below and wait till His Majesty heaves in sight? This minister of finance will give us no satisfaction. And I am not used to dealing with understrappers.” “You are impertinent!” cried the young man. “I have been as courteous as possible. You will leave at once, or I shall ask the hotel management to put you out.” Up from a chair rose the massive bulk of Johnny Kent, and his ample countenance was truculent as he roared: “You’ll throw us out, you impudent son of a sea-cook? No, Cap’n Mike, I won’t shut up. I ain’t built that way. Diplomacy be doggoned. I’m liable to lose my temper.” “’Tis a large-sized temper to lose, and I hereby hoist storm-signals,” said O’Shea with a grin as he neatly tripped the minister of finance, who was endeavoring to reach an electric push-button.