Billy and the Big Stick | Page 7

"If, after she departs, you are found in Port-au-Prince, you will be shot! "
The audience-chamber was hung with great mirrors in frames of tarnished gilt. In these Billy saw himself reproduced in a wavering line of Billies that, like the ghost of Banquo, stretched to the disappearing point. Of such images there was an army, but of the real Billy, as he was acutely conscious, there was but one. Among the black faces scowling from the doorways he felt the odds were against him. Without making a reply he passed out between the racks of rusty muskets in the anteroom, between the two Gatling guns guarding the entrance, and on the palace steps, in indecision, halted.
As Billy hesitated an officer followed him from the palace and beckoned to the guard that sat in the bare dust of the Champ de Mars playing cards for cartridges. Two abandoned the game, and, having received their orders, picked their muskets from the dust and stood looking expectantly at Billy.
They were his escort, and it was evident that until nine o'clock, when he sailed, his movements would be spied upon; his acts reported to the president.
Such being the situation, Billy determined that his first act to be reported should be of a nature to cause the president active mental anguish. With his guard at his heels he went directly to the cable station, and to the Secretary of State of the United States addressed this message: "President refuses my pay; threatens shoot; wireless nearest war-ship proceed here full speed. William Barlow."
Billy and the director of telegraphs, who out of office hours was a field-marshal, and when not in his shirt-sleeves always appeared in uniform, went over each word of the cablegram together. When Billy was assured that the field-marshal had grasped the full significance of it he took it back and added, "Love to Aunt Maria." The extra words cost four dollars and eighty cents gold, but, as they suggested ties of blood between himself and the Secretary of State, they seemed advisable. In the account-book in which he recorded his daily expenditures Billy credited the item to "life-insurance."
The revised cablegram caused the field-marshal deep concern. He frowned at Billy ferociously.
"I will forward this at once," he promised. "But, I warn you," he added, "I deliver also a copy to MY president!"
Billy sighed hopefully.
"You might deliver the copy first," he suggested.
From the cable station Billy, still accompanied by his faithful retainers, returned to the power-house. There he bade farewell to the black brothers who had been his assistants, and upon one of them pressed a sum of money.
As they parted, this one, as though giving the pass-word of a secret society, chanted solemnly:
"A BUIT BEURES JUSTE!" And Billy clasped his hand and nodded.
At the office of the Royal Dutch West India Line Billy purchased a ticket to New York and inquired were there many passengers. "The ship is empty," said the agent.
"I am glad," said Billy, "for one of my assistants may come with me. He also is being deported."
"You can have as many cabins as you want," said the agent. "We are so sorry to see you go that we will try to make you feel you leave us on your private yacht."
The next two hours Billy spent in seeking out those acquaintances from whom he could borrow money. He found that by asking for it in homoeopathic doses he was able to shame the foreign colony into loaning him all of one hundred dollars. This, with what he had in hand, would take Claire and himself to New York and for a week keep them alive. After that he must find work or they must starve. The one whose features seemed familiar replied:
"Still, we are leaving to-night," he said; "not on a steamer, but on a war-ship."
"A war-ship?" cried Billy. His heart beat at high speed. "Then," he exclaimed, "you are a naval officer?"
The young man shook his head and, as though challenging Billy to make another guess, smiled.
"Then," Billy complied eagerly, "you are a diplomat! Are you our new minister?"
One of the other young men exclaimed reproachfully:
"You know him perfectly well!" he protested. "You've seen his picture thousands of times."
With awe and pride he placed his hand on Billy's arm and with the other pointed at the one in the Panama hat.
"It's Harry St. Clair," he announced. "Harry St.Clair, the King of the Movies!"
"The King of the Movies," repeated Billy. His disappointment was so keen as to be embarrassing.
"Oh!" he exclaimed, "I thought you----" Then he remembered his manners. "Glad to meet you," he said. "Seen you on the screen."
Again his own troubles took precedence. "Did you say," he demanded, "One of our war-ships is coming here TO-DAY?"
"Coming to take me to Santo Domingo," explained Mr. St. Clair. He spoke airily,