“My training has been different; that’s all,” said the reporter.

“Yes,” Stedman said, bitterly.  “I have been sitting in an office ever since I left school, sending news over a wire or a cable, and you have been out in the world, gathering it.”

“And now,” said Gordon, smiling and putting his arm around the other boy’s shoulders, “we are going to make news ourselves.”

“There is one thing I want to say to you before you turn in,” said Stedman “Before you suggest all these improvements on Ollypybus, you must remember that he has ruled absolutely here for twenty years, and that he does not think much of consuls.  He has only seen your predecessor and yourself.  He likes you because you appeared with such dignity, and because of the presents; but if I were you, I wouldn’t suggest these improvements as coming from yourself.”

“I don’t understand,” said Gordon; “who could they come from?”

“Well,” said Stedman, “if you will allow me to advise—­and you see I know these people pretty well—­I would have all these suggestions come from the President direct.”

“The President!” exclaimed Gordon; “but how?  What does the President know or care about Opeki? and it would take so long—­oh, I see, the cable.  Is that what you have been doing?” he asked.

“Well, only once,” said Stedman, guiltily; “that was when he wanted to turn me out of the consul’s office, and I had a cable that very afternoon, from the President, ordering me to stay where I was.  Ollypybus doesn’t understand the cable, of course, but he knows that it sends messages; and sometimes I pretend to send messages for him to the President; but he began asking me to tell the President to come and pay him a visit, and I had to stop it.”

“I’m glad you told me,” said Gordon.  “The President shall begin to cable to-morrow.  He will need an extra appropriation from Congress to pay for his private cablegrams alone.”

“And there’s another thing,” said Stedman.  “In all your plans, you’ve arranged for the people’s improvement, but not for their amusement; and they are a peaceful, jolly, simple sort of people, and we must please them.”

“Have they no games or amusements of their own?” asked Gordon.

“Well, not what we would call games.”

“Very well, then, I’ll teach them base-ball.  Foot-ball would be too warm.  But that plaza in front of the King’s bungalow, where his palace is going to be, is just the place for a diamond.  On the whole, though,” added the consul, after a moment’s reflection, “you’d better attend to that yourself.  I don’t think it becomes my dignity as American consul to take off my coat and give lessons to young Opekians in sliding to bases; do you?  No; I think you’d better do that.  The Bradleys will help you, and you had better begin to-morrow.  You have been wanting to know what a secretary of legation’s duties are, and now you know.  It’s to organize base-ball nines.  And after you get yours ready,” he added, as he turned into his room for the night, “I’ll train one that will sweep yours off the face of the island.  For this American consul can pitch three curves.”