"Truly, that is so," quoth the first philosopher, struck by the turn of a new idea. "Yes, that is so. Even a woman can beat a pig, if the pig has eaten too much." "Yes, yes, Compadre! And Panama is too much for the hungriest pig." Then, out of the surging crowd of volunteers, came a stentorian voice: "Donde vamos, Pedro el Rey?" ("Where shall we go, King Pedro?") "To the President! To the Palace San Carlos!" shouted Pedro, brandishing a stick snatched from one of the faithful. As the volunteers had agreed to do this in the first place, the announcement was instantly approved. San Carlos, "the palace," was not far off--a few short blocks this side the principal plaza of the city--and word was quickly passed along to march thither. Still shouting vengeance on all Yankees, the emboladores, followed by a mob of peons, moved down the street, encouraged by the primitive jests and delighted cheers of the bystanders. Early as it was, San Carlos was ready for this unusual visit. Although it was popularly known as "the palace"--as all residences of high officials are in Colombia--this large rambling structure of stone and plaster was in no way distinguished from the buildings that elbowed it at each side. Its dilapidated walls ran sheer to the narrow sidewalk, overlooking which were several balconies of the kind commonly used in Spanish-American buildings. A large square opening, guarded by rude, heavily timbered doors, formed the entrance to this simple executive mansion which was built around a huge courtyard, or patio. From this patio two broad flights of carpeted stairs led to the living rooms and offices above. This arrangement of rooms, balconies, patio--the fountain in the middle of a bed of flowering shrubs and plants, perpetually spraying a moss-grown cupid; the brick walls; the inner corridor supported on arches of masonry and forming the boundary of the four-sided court--all this one finds, with slight variation, in the home of the average Bogotano, as well as in the official "palace." The unique feature of San Carlos, growing out of the very heart of this ancient dwelling, is a huge walnut tree, rising some forty or fifty feet above the patio, overtopping the adjacent roofs, and marking this, better than could any national emblem, as the presidential residence. Within the gateway of the palace and at the foot of the stone steps leading to the corridor above, there is always a guard of soldiers. On the morning of the visit of the emboladores this guard was greatly increased in numbers and was commanded by a youth whose resplendent uniform was in striking contrast with the dingy, ill-fitting apparel of his men. As the tramp of the peons echoed along the street, the soldiers marched hastily across the patio and drew up outside the entrance to the palace. Here, waiting groups of idlers shouted with delight as the bootblacks, King Pedro in the lead, rounded the corner of San Carlos. "They will polish the Yankees," declared one admirer.