ression," said Lieutenant Bernal, "although my impressions
are usually wrong and my memory is always weak, that you have scored, at
least partially. You have sowed the fertile crop of suspicion in the mind
of Bernardo Galvez. He has shown that by making Francisco Alvarez
virtually a prisoner, also, and you have a powerful advocate in the Senor
Pollock, the great merchant, and I may add the great diplomat, also."

"How long do you think we will be kept in here?" asked Shif'less Sol,
looking around at the room, which, though wide, was by no means so wide as
the forests of Kentucky.

"I do not know," replied the lieutenant, smiling--he understood the look
of the shiftless one, "but you shall not be ill-treated, and do not feel
that any disgrace lies upon you. This is a military prison. Good men have
been confined here; I myself, for instance, because of some little breach
of military discipline magnified by my officers into a fault. Oh, you
shall not suffer!"

He bustled about cheerily. He had food and drink brought to them, and then
he departed, volunteering to see that their private property on "The
Galleon" was saved and brought to them.

No one spoke for a little while after his going, and then the silence was
broken by a long, dismal sigh. It was drawn up from the depths of Long
Jim's chest.

"Are you sick, Jim?" asked Henry.

"Yes, Henry," replied Jim in a melancholy tone, "I'm sick; sick uv all
this jawin', sick uv seein' things pulled here, an' then pulled yonder,
sick uv hearin' people lyin', knowin' that they're lyin', and knowin' that
other people know that they're lyin'."

"Why, Jim," said Paul, who had a twinkle in his eye, "that's diplomacy,
and the man who practises it is called a diplomatist or diplomat. It's
considered a great accomplishment."

"It ain't so considered by me, an' I'm bein' heard from," said Long Jim
with great emphasis. "Them dy-plo-may-tists or dy-plo-maws may reckon
theirselves pow'ful big boys, but I've got another an' better name fur
'em, and it's spelled with jest four letters, uv which the furst is l an'
the last is r, an' them that comes in between are i an' a, with the i
first. Why, Paul, it makes me plum' sick, all these goin's on. In a big
town like this, full uv Spaniards an' Frenchmen an' Injuns an' niggers an'
mixed breeds, an' the Lord knows what, you can never tell nuth'in' 'bout
nobody, 'cept that he says what he don't believe, an' that he ain't what
he is.

"I gu