Truxton King. George Barr McCutcheon

plainly addressed. He lifted his chin and piped up shrilly, and with a fervour that startled even the intense Perse:

      "Because Uncle Jack said we should, that's why."

      We have no record of what immediately followed this abrupt declaration; there are some things that never leak out, no matter how prying the chronicler may be. When one stops to consider that this was the first time a question had been put directly to the Prince—and one that he could understand, at that—we may be inclined to overlook his reply, but we cannot answer for certain members of the cabinet. Unconsciously, the boy in knickers had uttered a truth that no one else had dared to voice. John Tullis was the joint stepping-stone and stumbling-block in the deliberations of the cabinet.

      It goes without saying that the innocent rejoinder opened the way to an acrid discussion of John Tullis. If that gentleman's ears burned in response to the sarcastic comments of the Duke of Perse and Baron Pultz, they probably tingled pleasantly as the result of the stout defence put up by Halfont, Dangloss and others. Moreover, his most devoted friend, the Prince, whose lips were sullenly closed after his unlucky maiden effort, was finding it exceedingly difficult to hold his tongue and his tears at the same time. The lad's lip trembled but his brown eyes glowered; he sat abashed and heard the no uncertain arraignment of his dearest friend, feeling all the while that the manly thing for him to do would be to go over and kick the Duke of Perse, miserably conscious that such an act was impossible. His little body trembled with childish rage; he never took his gaze from the face of the gaunt traducer. How he hated the Duke of Perse!

      The Duke's impassioned plea was of no avail. His confrères saw the wisdom of keeping Russia's greedy hand out of the country's affairs—at least for the present—and reiterated their decision to seek the loans in England and France. The question, therefore, would not be taken to Parliament for reconsideration. The Duke sat down, pale in defeat; his heart was more bitter than ever against the shrewd American who had induced all these men to see through his eyes.

      "I suppose there is no use in kicking against the pricks," he said sourly as he resumed his seat. "I shall send our representatives to London and Paris next month. I trust, my lords, that we may have no trouble in placing the loans there." There was a deep significance the dry tone which he assumed.

      "I do not apprehend trouble," said Count Halfont. "Our credit is still good, your Grace. Russia is not the only country that is ready to trust us for a few millions. Have no fear, your Grace."

      "It is the delay that I am apprehensive of, your Excellency."

      At this juncture the Prince, gathering from the manner of his ministers that the question was settled to his liking, leaned forward and announced to his uncle, the premier:

      "I'm tired, Uncle Caspar. How much longer is it?"

      Count Halfont coughed. "Ahem! Just a few minutes, your Highness. Pray be patient—er—my little man."

      Prince Bobby flushed. He always knew that he was being patronised when any one addressed him as "my little man."

      "I have an engagement," he said, with a stiffening of his back.

      "Indeed?" said the Duke dryly.

      "Yes, your Grace—a very important one. Of course, I'll stay if I have to, but—what time is it, Uncle Caspar?"

      "It is half past eleven, your Highness."

      "Goodness, I had a date for eleven. I mean a engagement—an engagement." He glanced helplessly, appealingly from Count Halfont to Baron Dangloss, his known allies.

      The Duke of Perse smiled grimly. In his most polite manner he arose to address the now harassed Princeling, who shifted uneasily on the pile of law books.

      "May your most humble subject presume to inquire into the nature of your Highness's engagement?"

      "You may, your Grace," said the Prince.

      The Duke waited. A smile crept into the eyes of the others. "Well, what is the engagement?"

      "I had a date to ride with Uncle Jack at eleven."

      "And you imagine that 'Uncle Jack' will be annoyed if he is kept waiting by such a trivial matter as a cabinet meeting, unfortunately prolonged?"

      "I don't know just what that means," murmured the Prince. Then his face brightened. "But I don't think he'll be sore after I tell him how busy we've been."

      The Duke put his hand over his mouth. "I don't think he'll mind half an hour's wait, do you?"

      "He likes me to be very prompt."

      Count Halfont interposed, good-humouredly. "There is nothing more to come before us to-day, your Grace, so I fancy we may as well close the meeting. To my mind, it is rather a silly custom which compels us to keep the Prince with us—er—after the opening of the session. Of course, your Highness, we don't mean to say that you are not interested in our grave deliberations."

      Prince Bobby broke in eagerly: "Uncle Jack says I've just got to be interested in 'em, whether I want to or not. He says it's the only way to catch onto things and become a regular prince. You see, Uncle Caspar, I've got a lot to learn."

      "Yes, your Highness, you have," solemnly admitted the premier. "But I am sure you will learn."

      "Under such an able instructor as Uncle Jack you may soon know more than the wisest man in the realm," added the Duke of Perse.

      "Thank you, your Grace," said the Prince, so politely that the Duke was confounded; "I know Uncle Jack will be glad to hear that. He's—he's afraid people may think he's butting in too much."

      "Butting in?" gasped the premier.

      At this the Duke of Perse came to his feet again, an angry gleam in his eyes. "My lords," he began hastily, "it must certainly have occurred to you before this that our beloved Prince's English, which seems after all to be his mother tongue, is not what it should be. Butting in! Yesterday I overheard him advising your son, Pultz, to 'go chase' himself. And when your boy tried to chase himself—'pon my word, he did—what did our Prince say? What did you say, Prince Robin?"

      "I—I forget," stammered Prince Bobby.

      "You said 'Mice!' Or was it—er—"

      "No, your Grace. Rats. I remember. That's what I said. That's what all of us boys used to say in Washington."

      "God deliver us! Has it come to this, that a Prince of Graustark should grow up with such language on his lips? I fancy, my lords, you will all agree that something should be done about it. It is too serious a matter. We are all more or less responsible to the people he is to govern. We cannot, in justice to them, allow him to continue under the—er—influences that now seem to surround him. He'll—he'll grow up to be a barbarian. For Heaven's sake, my lords, let us consider the Prince's future—let us deal promptly with the situation."

      "What's he saying, Uncle Caspar?" whispered the Prince fiercely.

      "Sh!" cautioned Count Halfont.

      "I won't sh! I am the Prince. And I'll say 'chase yourself' whenever I please. It's good English. I'll pronounce it for you in our own language, so's you can see how it works that way. It goes like—"

      "You need not illustrate, your Highness," the Premier hastened to say. Turning to the Duke, he said coldly: "I acknowledge the wisdom in your remarks, your Grace, but—you will pardon me, I am sure—would it not be better to discuss the conditions privately among ourselves before taking them up officially?"

      "That confounded American has every one hypnotised," exploded the Duke. "His influence over this boy is a menace to our country. He is making on oaf of him—a slangy, impudent little—"

      "Your Grace!" interrupted Baron Dangloss sharply.

      "Uncle Jack's all right," declared the Prince, vaguely realising that a defence should be forthcoming.

      "He is, eh?" rasped the exasperated Duke, mopping his brow.