crowned
monarch; you said so yourself."

Albert did not reply to this, but ran across the plaza, followed by the
two Bradleys. The boats had gone.

"Hoist that flag beside the brass cannon," he cried, "and stand ready
to salute it when I drop this one."

Bradley, Jr., grasped the halyards of the flag, which he had forgotten
to raise and salute in the morning in all the excitement of the arrival
of the man-of-war. Bradley, Sr., stood by the brass cannon, blowing
gently on his lighted fuse. The Peacemaker took the halyards of the
German flag in his two hands, gave a quick, sharp tug, and down came
the red, white, and black piece of bunting, and the next moment young
Bradley sent the Stars and Stripes up in their place. As it rose,
Bradley's brass cannon barked merrily like a little bull-dog, and the
Peacemaker cheered.

"Why don't you cheer, Stedman?" he shouted. "Tell those people to
cheer for all they are worth. What sort of an American consul are you?"

Stedman raised his arm half-heartedly to give the time, and opened his
mouth; but his arm remained fixed and his mouth open, while his eyes
stared at the retreating boat of the German man-of-war. In the stern
sheets of this boat the stout German captain was struggling unsteadily
to his feet; he raised his arm and waved it to someone on the great
man-of-war, as though giving an order. The natives looked from Stedman
to the boat, and even Gordon stopped in his cheering, and stood
motionless, watching. They had not very long to wait. There was a
puff of white smoke, and a flash, and then a loud report, and across
the water came a great black ball skipping lightly through and over the
waves, as easily as a flat stone thrown by a boy. It seemed to come
very slowly. At least it came slowly enough for everyone to see that
it was coming directly toward the brass cannon. The Bradleys certainly
saw this, for they ran as fast as they could, and kept on running. The
ball caught the cannon under its mouth and tossed it in the air,
knocking the flagpole into a dozen pieces, and passing on through two
of the palm-covered huts.

"Great Heavens, Gordon!" cried Stedman; "they are firing on us."

But Gordon's face was radiant and wild.

"Firing on US!" he cried. "On us! Don't you see? Don't you
understand? What do WE amount to? They have fired on the American
flag! Don't you see what that means? It means war. A great
international war. And I am a war-corr