“It isn’t such a queer lingo,” said Frank. “It’s Portuguese, and that language is very like Spanish.”
“Well, I never did like Spanish. But what do you guess is going on?”
“Give it up, unless there’s going to be a fight between the revolutionists and the regulars.”
“I wonder if we’ll be in on it.”
“Say, are you looking for trouble?” asked Frank, with a laugh.
“No, but if it’s coming our way, I’m not going to dodge it very hard,” Ned answered, grimly.
The two battleship boys strolled about the town a little longer, and then made their way to the boat landing, for it was nearly time to start back for the Georgetown.
“This looks like an American quarter,” said Frank, as they passed a place where several signs, in distinctly American names, were to be seen.
“It is,” said a petty officer, who was walking along with them. “And if there’s any trouble going to happen it will happen right here, in this quarter.”
“What do you mean?” asked Frank, quickly.