t a better
view. The mob parted at the Palace gates, and they saw two lines of
blue-jackets, spread out like the sticks of a fan, dragging the gun
between them, the middies in their tight-buttoned tunics and gaiters,
and behind them more blue-jackets with bare, bronzed throats, and with
the swagger and roll of the sea in their legs and shoulders. An
American flag floated above the white helmets of the marines. Its
presence and the sense of pride which the sight of these men from home
awoke in them made the fight just over seem mean and petty, and they
took off their hats and cheered with the others.

A first lieutenant, who felt his importance and also a sense of
disappointment at having arrived too late to see the fighting, left his
men at the gate of the Palace, and advanced up the terrace, stopping to
ask for information as he came. Each group to which he addressed
himself pointed to Clay. The sight of his own flag had reminded Clay
that the banner of Mendoza still hung from the mast beside which he was
standing, and as the officer approached he was busily engaged in
untwisting its halyards and pulling it down.

The lieutenant saluted him doubtfully.

"Can you tell me who is in command here?" he asked. He spoke somewhat
sharply, for Clay was not a military looking personage, covered as he
was with dust and perspiration, and with his sombrero on the back of
his head.

"Our Consul here told us at the landing-place," continued the
lieutenant in an aggrieved tone, "that a General Mendoza was in power,
and that I had better report to him, and then ten minutes later I hear
that he is dead and that a General Rojas is President, but that a man
named Clay has made himself Dictator. My instructions are to recognize
no belligerents, but to report to the Government party. Now, who is
the Government party?"

Clay brought the red-barred flag down with a jerk, and ripped it free
from the halyards. Kirkland and the two boys were watching him with
amused smiles.

"I appreciate your difficulty," he said. "President Alvarez is dead,
and General Mendoza, who tried to make himself Dictator, is also dead,
and the real President, General Rojas, is still in jail. So at present
I suppose that I represent the Government party, at least I am the man
named Clay. It hadn't occurred to me before, but, until Rojas is free,
I guess I am the Dictator of Olancho. Is Madame Alvarez on board your
ship?"

"Yes, she is with us," the