me," Peter assured him.

"I will take them myself," continued Stimson, "to Muley Pasha, the
minister of foreign affairs, and ask him to present them to his Imperial
Majesty. He will promise to do so, but he won't; but he knows I know he
won't so that is all right. And in return he will present us with the
Order of the Crescent of the third class."

"Going up!" exclaimed Peter. "The third class. That will cost me my
entire letter-of-credit."

"Not at all," said Stimson. "I've saved you from the grafters. It will
cost you only what you pay to have the books rebound. And the THIRD
class is a real honor of which any one might be proud. You wear it
round your neck, and at your funeral it entitles you to an escort of a
thousand soldiers."

"I'd rather put up with fewer soldiers," said Peter, "and wear it longer
round my neck What's the matter with our getting the second class or the
first class?"

At such ignorance Stimson could not repress a smile.

"The first class," he explained patiently, "is the Great Grand Cross,
and is given only to reigning sovereigns. The second is called the Grand
Cross, and is bestowed only on crowned princes, prime ministers, and men
of world-wide fame...."

"What's the matter with Doctor Gilman's being of world-wide fame?" said
Peter. "He will be some day, when Stetson starts boosting."

"Some day," retorted Stimson stiffly, "I may be an ambassador. When I
am I hope to get the Grand Cross of the Crescent, but not now. I'm
sorry you're not satisfied," he added aggrievedly. "No one can get you
anything higher than the third class, and I may lose my official head
asking for that."

"Nothing is too good for old man Gilman," said Peter, "nor for you.
You get the third class for him, and I'll have father make you an
ambassador."

That night at poker at the club Peter sat next to Prince Abdul, who
had come from a reception at the Grand vizier's and still wore his
decorations. Decorations now fascinated Peter, and those on the coat of
the young prince he regarded with wide-eyed awe. He also regarded Abdul
with wide-eyed awe, because he was the favorite nephew of the Sultan,
and because he enjoyed the reputation of having the worst reputation
in Turkey. Peter wondered why. He always had found Abdul charming,
distinguished, courteous to the verge of humility, most cleverly
cynical, most brilliantly amusing. At poker he almost invariably won,
and while doing so was so politely bored, so indiff