“I am making consideration of a proposition they have made to me,” he observed with dignity. “Perhaps, Alfonso, we may sail back to Colombia in the _Seagull_.” The boy’s eyes glistened. They were dark and restless eyes, very like those of his parent. He rose from his chair and shook hands with us with an appearance of cordiality. We now saw he was remarkably short of stature. Although he was sixteen the crown of his head scarcely reached to my shoulder. But he assumed the airs and dress of a man and I noticed he possessed his father’s inordinate love for jewelry. “Would you prefer in the hotel restaurant to dine, or in our private salon?” inquired the elder De Jiminez. “It is unimportant to us, sir,” I returned. “Do not alter your usual custom on our account, I beg of you.” “Then,” said he, “I will order service in the salon.” He seemed relieved and went to consult his servant. Meantime young Alfonso looked at us curiously. “You do not own the _Seagull_, I suppose,” he remarked. “Why not?” I asked with a smile. “It’s a fine ship. I’ve been over to look at it this afternoon—” “Oh; you have!” “Yes. They would not let me go aboard, but I saw all I wished to. It is swift and trim—what is called ‘yacht built.’ It can sail or go by steam. Your crew looks like a good one.” “That is all true, sir,” I agreed, amused at his observations. “And you young fellows own it?” “I don’t,” said Joe. “I’m second mate, that’s all. But Mr. Steele here is one-third owner, with his father and uncle owning the other two-thirds.” Alfonso looked at me intently. “Have you sold it to my father?” he asked in a low voice. “Not yet,” said I, laughing. “But, as Señor de Jiminez told you, we are considering the matter.” “You know why we want it?” “‘We’?” I repeated. “Are you also a conspirator—pardon me, a patriot—then?” “I am a De Jiminez,” he returned proudly. “After my father I am entitled to rule over Colombia.” “To rule? That savors of monarchy. I thought Colombia is a republic.” “You are quite right. It _is_ a republic—as Mexico is; as Venezuela and Costa Rica are. But the president has great power. Is not Diaz equal to a king?” “I am not very well posted on South American or Mexican politics,” I replied evasively. “But from what your father said I imagine there is already a president in Colombia.” He gave a frown at this, amusingly like his father’s frown. Then his face cleared and he said: