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 "It's like a tile falling on my head. I—I—executive member! It's the first I hear of it! What do I know of military rifles? C'est funambulesque!" he had exclaimed to his favorite sister; for the Decoud family—except the old father and mother—used the French language among themselves. "And you should see the explanatory and confidential letter! Eight pages of it no less!"

This letter, in Antonia's handwriting, was signed by Don José, who appealed to the "young and gifted Costaguanero" on public grounds, and privately opened his heart to his talented godson, a man of wealth and leisure, with wide relations, and by his parentage and bringing-up worthy of all confidence.

"Which means," Martin commented cynically to his sister, "that I am not likely to misappropriate the funds, or go blabbing to our Chargé d'Affaires here."

The whole thing was being carried out behind the back of the War Minister, Montero, a mistrusted member of the Ribiera government, but difficult to get rid of at once. He was not to know anything of it till the troops under Barrios's command had the new rifle in their hands. The President-Dictator, whose position was very difficult, was alone in the secret.

"How funny," commented Martin's sister and confidante; to which the brother, with an air of best Parisian blague, had retorted:

"It's immense. The idea of that Chief of the State engaged, with the help of private citizens, in digging a mine under his own indispensable War Minister. No! We are unapproachable!" And he laughed immoderately.