“Permit me to explain. The family of De Jiminez has controlled Colombian politics ever since my great ancestor discovered the country and called it New Grenada. But a few years ago, while my father was traveling in Europe, the opposition obtained control and still has the presidency. The important and wealthy class, however, resented the usurpation, and even before my father alarmed at the situation hurried back home, a revolution had begun. I say a revolution, because the opposition had firmly established themselves. We are really attempting a restoration of the rightful party to its former power.” “In our own republic,” I said thoughtfully, “the votes of the majority rule. Why do you not resort to the ballot instead of to arms?” “I have visited your country,” he said. “The conditions there are different. In Colombia we have a small class of wealthy and influential people and a horde of vulgar laborers who are little more than slaves. They have small intelligence, no education, and work for a bare living. My father tried to establish a school system that would enable them to rise above such conditions. They would not send their children to the schools. Then he tried to force them by law—compulsory education you know, copied from your own and other countries—but they rebelled at this and the opposition made capital out of their resentment. The result was the overthrow of the De Jiminez party as I have stated.” This seemed to put a new aspect on the revolution. I began to approve the action of the De Jiminez party and to sympathize with their “cause.” “Has your father many followers in Colombia?” I asked. “The intelligent class is of course with him; small in numbers but controlling the wealth of the country. We ourselves are coffee planters and bankers, and we employ several hundred laborers who will do whatever we may direct—and do it willingly. Many of the families in sympathy with us can also control their servants; but we have found great difficulty in securing arms and ammunition for them. We have organized and drilled several regiments—I have drilled our own men myself—but they cannot fight without weapons. That is why we are so eager to ship our cargo of arms to Colombia.” The elder De Jiminez had returned in time to hear the conclusion of this speech, and he nodded approval. It seemed to me that the little fellow really talked remarkably well. He spoke better English than his father and expressed himself in well chosen language. It at once occurred to me why Joe and I had been invited here. The young De Jiminez was a rabid partisan of “the Cause” and his clever father imagined that an enthusiastic boy would be more apt to impress boys of his own age than his senior might impress men. The thought put me somewhat on my guard and made me inquire into things more carefully. “Australia seems a queer place to obtain a cargo of arms,” I remarked. “There are no factories here I believe.”