"But, after all," said Peter, yawning, "I don't see why we need anticipate evil. Don Hypolito may not have rebelled, and the navy may still be loyal to the Government."
"What!" cried Tim, sticking his chin in the air, "d'ye think I've come all these miles to see a flash in the pan. If Don Hypolito doesn't revolt, I shall consider myself deceived. I want war—blood red war, and plenty of it."
"Barbaric wretch!" said Philip, indolently. "War wasn't invented to fill the empty columns of your paper during the silly season. Not that I would mind a war myself."
"You'll see all that and more," remarked Jack, confidently. "Xuarez is bent on becoming Dictator of the Republic, and as President Gomez won't care about being kicked out, it will be a case of war to the knife."
"What kind of a man is Xuarez?"
"He's like Napoleon: a wonderful man, I can tell you. You can see from his face that he was born to command. If he gains the day, he won't be content with playing at Dictator. Not he! He'll make himself Emperor, establish his capital in the neck of the Isthmus of Panama, and conquer South America. He won't attempt the north further than Mexico, in case the U.S. Government might make it hot for him. The Yankees object to foreign domination. Some people are so particular."
"The New World is not the place for empires," said Philip, decisively. "Monarchs are at a discount in the Americas. Maximilian failed; Iturbide failed; Dom Pedro had to leave Brazil. No; Montezuma was the last of the American emperors—there will never be another."
"Don't prophesy till you know, Philip. Don Hypolito is as cunning as the devil, and as clever."
"I don't care how clever he is. No one can depend on the half-baked lot that form the population of Spanish America. You have to form a nation before you can construct an empire."
"There's some truth in that."