Download the full version of the ebook at ebookname.

com

FlowingData com Data Visualization Set 1st Edition

Nathan Yau

https://ebookname.com/product/flowingdata-com-data-
visualization-set-1st-edition-nathan-yau/

OR CLICK BUTTON

DOWNLOAD EBOOK

Download more ebook instantly today at https://ebookname.com

Instant digital products (PDF, ePub, MOBI) available
Download now and explore formats that suit you...

Python Data Visualization Cookbook Milovanovi■

https://ebookname.com/product/python-data-visualization-cookbook-
milovanovic/

ebookname.com

Building Responsive Data Visualization for the Web 1st

Edition Hinderman

https://ebookname.com/product/building-responsive-data-visualization-
for-the-web-1st-edition-hinderman/

ebookname.com

Visual Data Mining Techniques and Tools for Data

Visualization and Mining 1st Edition Tom Soukup

https://ebookname.com/product/visual-data-mining-techniques-and-tools-
for-data-visualization-and-mining-1st-edition-tom-soukup/

ebookname.com

Local Economic and Employment Development LEED Making

Local Strategies Work Building the Evidence Base Jonathan
Potter
https://ebookname.com/product/local-economic-and-employment-
development-leed-making-local-strategies-work-building-the-evidence-
base-jonathan-potter/
ebookname.com
1001 Ways to Be Romantic 2nd Edition Gregory J. P. Godek

https://ebookname.com/product/1001-ways-to-be-romantic-2nd-edition-
gregory-j-p-godek/

ebookname.com

The Cambridge History of Iran Vol 4 The Period from the

Arab Invasion to the Saljuqs 5th Edition Edited By R. N.
Frye
https://ebookname.com/product/the-cambridge-history-of-iran-vol-4-the-
period-from-the-arab-invasion-to-the-saljuqs-5th-edition-edited-by-r-
n-frye/
ebookname.com

Explaining Norms 1st Edition Geoffrey Brennan

https://ebookname.com/product/explaining-norms-1st-edition-geoffrey-
brennan/

ebookname.com

Magoúla Pavlína A Middle Bronze Age Site in the Soúrpi

Plain Thessaly Greece 1st Edition Corien Wiersma

https://ebookname.com/product/magoula-pavlina-a-middle-bronze-age-
site-in-the-sourpi-plain-thessaly-greece-1st-edition-corien-wiersma/

ebookname.com

Postcolonial Studies A Materialist Critique 1st Edition

Benita Parry

https://ebookname.com/product/postcolonial-studies-a-materialist-
critique-1st-edition-benita-parry/

ebookname.com
Foundations Of Quantum Chromodynamics An Introduction to
Perturbative Methods in Gauge Theories 3rd Edition T. Muta

https://ebookname.com/product/foundations-of-quantum-chromodynamics-
an-introduction-to-perturbative-methods-in-gauge-theories-3rd-edition-
t-muta/
ebookname.com
 CONTENTS

VISUALIZE THIS

Chapter 1: Telling Stories with Data 1

Chapter 2: Handling Data 21
Chapter 3: Choosing Tools to Visualize Data 53
Chapter 4: Visualizing Patterns over Time 91
Chapter 5: Visualizing Proportions 135
Chapter 6: Visualizing Relationships 179
Chapter 7: Spotting Differences 227
Chapter 8: Visualizing Spatial Relationships 271
Chapter 9: Designing with a Purpose 327

DATA POINTS

Chapter 1: Understanding Data 1

Chapter 2: Visualization: The Medium 43
Chapter 3: Representing Data 91
Chapter 4: Exploring Data Visually 135
Chapter 5: Visualizing with Clarity 201
Chapter 6: Designing for an Audience 241
Chapter 7: Where to Go from Here 277
Visualize This
Visualize This
The FlowingData Guide to Design,
Visualization, and Statistics

Nathan Yau
Visualize This: The FlowingData Guide to Design, Visualization, and Statistics
Published by
Wiley Publishing, Inc.
10475 Crosspoint Boulevard
Indianapolis, IN 46256
www.wiley.com
Copyright © 2011 by Nathan Yau
Published by Wiley Publishing, Inc., Indianapolis, Indiana
Published simultaneously in Canada
ISBN: 978-0-470-94488-2
ISBN: 978-1-118-14024-6 (ebk)
ISBN: 978-1-118-14026-0 (ebk)
ISBN: 978-1-118-14025-3 (ebk)
Manufactured in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise, except as permitted under Sec-
tions 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without either the prior written permission of the Pub-
lisher, or authorization through payment of the appropriate per-copy fee to the Copyright Clearance Center, 222
Rosewood Drive, Danvers, MA 01923, (978) 750-8400, fax (978) 646-8600. Requests to the Publisher for permis-
sion should be addressed to the Permissions Department, John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 111 River Street, Hoboken, NJ
07030, (201) 748-6011, fax (201) 748-6008, or online at http://www.wiley.com/go/permissions.
Limit of Liability/Disclaimer of Warranty: The publisher and the author make no representations or warranties
with respect to the accuracy or completeness of the contents of this work and specifically disclaim all warran-
ties, including without limitation warranties of fitness for a particular purpose. No warranty may be created or
extended by sales or promotional materials. The advice and strategies contained herein may not be suitable for
every situation. This work is sold with the understanding that the publisher is not engaged in rendering legal,
accounting, or other professional services. If professional assistance is required, the services of a competent
professional person should be sought. Neither the publisher nor the author shall be liable for damages arising
herefrom. The fact that an organization or Web site is referred to in this work as a citation and/or a potential
source of further information does not mean that the author or the publisher endorses the information the
organization or website may provide or recommendations it may make. Further, readers should be aware that
Internet websites listed in this work may have changed or disappeared between when this work was written and
when it is read.
For general information on our other products and services please contact our Customer Care Department
within the United States at (877) 762-2974, outside the United States at (317) 572-3993 or fax (317) 572-4002.
Wiley also publishes its books in a variety of electronic formats and by print-on-demand. Not all content that
is available in standard print versions of this book may appear or be packaged in all book formats. If you have
purchased a version of this book that did not include media that is referenced by or accompanies a standard print
version, you may request this media by visiting http://booksupport.wiley.com. For more information about
Wiley products, visit us at www.wiley.com .
Library of Congress Control Number: 2011928441
Trademarks: Wiley and the Wiley logo are trademarks or registered trademarks of John Wiley & Sons, Inc. and/
or its affiliates, in the United States and other countries, and may not be used without written permission. All
other trademarks are the property of their respective owners. Wiley Publishing, Inc. is not associated with any
product or vendor mentioned in this book.
To my loving wife, Bea
About the Author

Since 2007, Nathan Yau has written and created graphics for FlowingData, a site on
visualization, statistics, and design. Working with groups such as The New York Times,
CNN, Mozilla, and SyFy, Yau believes that data and information graphics, while great for
analysis, are also perfect for telling stories with data.
Yau has a master’s degree in statistics from the University of California, Los Angeles,
and is currently a Ph.D. candidate with a focus on visualization and personal data.
About the Technical Editor

Kim Rees is co-founder of Periscopic, a socially conscious information visualization

firm. A prominent individual in the visualization community, Kim has over seventeen
years of experience in the interactive industry. She has published papers in the Parsons
Journal of Information Mapping and the InfoVIS 2010 Proceedings, and has spoken at the
O’Reilly Strata Conference, WebVisions, AIGA Shift, and Portland Data Visualization. Kim
received her bachelor of arts in Computer Science from New York University. Periscopic
has been recognized in CommArts Insights, Adobe Success Stories, and awarded by the
VAST Challenge, CommArts Web Picks, and the Communication Arts Interactive Annual.
Recently, Periscopic’s body of work was nominated for the Cooper-Hewitt National
Design Awards.
Credits

Executive Editor Vice President and Executive Group

Carol Long Publisher
Senior Project Editor Richard Swadley
Adaobi Obi Tulton Vice President and Executive Publisher
Technical Editor Barry Pruett
Kim Rees Associate Publisher
Senior Production Editor Jim Minatel
Debra Banninger Project Coordinator, Cover
Copy Editor Katie Crocker
Apostrophe Editing Services Compositor
Editorial Director Maureen Forys,
Robyn B. Siesky Happenstance Type-O-Rama

Editorial Manager Proofreader

Mary Beth Wakefield Nancy Carrasco

Freelancer Editorial Manager Indexer

Rosemarie Graham Robert Swanson

Marketing Manager Cover Image

Ashley Zurcher Nathan Yau

Production Manager Cover Designer

Tim Tate Ryan Sneed
Acknowledgments

This book would not be possible without the work by the data scientists before me who
developed and continue to create useful and open tools for everyone to use. The soft-
ware from these generous developers makes my life much easier, and I am sure they
will keep innovating.
My many thanks to FlowingData readers who helped me reach more people than I ever
imagined. They are one of the main reasons why this book was written.
Thank you to Wiley Publishing, who let me write the book that I wanted to, and to Kim
Rees for helping me produce something worth reading.
Finally, thank you to my wife for supporting me and to my parents who always encour-
aged me to find what makes me happy.
Contents

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv

1 Telling Stories with Data . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

More Than Numbers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
What to Look For . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8
Design . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
Wrapping Up . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20

2 Handling Data . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
Gather Data . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22
Formatting Data . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
Wrapping Up . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52

3 Choosing Tools to Visualize Data . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53

Out-of-the-Box Visualization . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54
Programming . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
Illustration . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76
Mapping . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80
Survey Your Options . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88
Wrapping Up . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89

4 Visualizing Patterns over Time . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91

What to Look for over Time . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92
Discrete Points in Time . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93
Continuous Data . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 118
Wrapping Up . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 132

5 Visualizing Proportions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135

What to Look for in Proportions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136
Parts of a Whole . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136
xiv C ont e nts

Proportions over Time . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161

Wrapping Up . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 178

6 Visualizing Relationships . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 179

What Relationships to Look For . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 180
Correlation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 180
Distribution . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200
Comparison . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 213
Wrapping Up . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 226

7 Spotting Differences . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227

What to Look For . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228
Comparing across Multiple Variables . . . . . . . . . . . . 228
Reducing Dimensions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 258
Searching for Outliers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 265
Wrapping Up . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269

8 Visualizing Spatial Relationships . . . . . . . . . . . . 271

What to Look For . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 272
Specific Locations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 272
Regions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 285
Over Space and Time . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 302
Wrapping Up . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325

9 Designing with a Purpose . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 327

Prepare Yourself . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 328
Prepare Your Readers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 330
Visual Cues . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 334
Good Visualization . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 340
Wrapping Up . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 341

Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 343
Introduction

Data is nothing new. People have been quantifying and tabulating things for centuries.
However, while writing for FlowingData, my website on design, visualization, and sta-
tistics, I’ve seen a huge boom in just these past few years, and it keeps getting better.
Improvements in technology have made it extremely easy to collect and store data,
and the web lets you access it whenever you want. This wealth in data can, in the right
hands, provide a wealth of information to help improve decision making, communicate
ideas more clearly, and provide a more objective window looking in at how you look at
the world and yourself.
A significant shift in release of government data came in mid-2009, with the United
States’ launch of Data.gov. It’s a comprehensive catalog of data provided by federal
agencies and represents transparency and accountability of groups and officials. The
thought here is that you should know how the government spends tax dollars. Whereas
before, the government felt more like a black box. A lot of the data on Data.gov was
already available on agency sites scattered across the web, but now a lot of it is all in
one place and better formatted for analysis and visualization. The United Nations has
something similar with UNdata; the United Kingdom launched Data.gov.uk soon after,
and cities around the world such as New York, San Francisco, and London have also
taken part in big releases of data.
The collective web has also grown to be more open with thousands of Application Pro-
gramming Interfaces (API) to encourage and entice developers to do something with all
the available data. Applications such as Twitter and Flickr provide comprehensive APIs
that enable completely different user interfaces from the actual sites. API-cataloging
site ProgrammableWeb reports more than 2,000 APIs. New applications, such as
­Infochimps and Factual, also launched fairly recently and were specifically developed
to provide structured data.
At the individual level, you can update friends on Facebook, share your location on Four-
square, or tweet what you’re doing on Twitter, all with a few clicks on a mouse or taps on
a keyboard. More specialized applications enable you to log what you eat, how much you
xvi I ntroduc T ion

weigh, your mood, and plenty of other things. If you want to track some-
thing about yourself, there is probably an application to help you do it.
With all this data sitting around in stores, warehouses, and databases,
the field is ripe for people to make sense of it. The data itself isn’t all
that interesting (to most people). It’s the information that comes out of
the data. People want to know what their data says, and if you can help
them, you’re going to be in high demand. There’s a reason that Hal Var-
ian, Google’s chief economist, says that statistician is the sexy job of the
next 10 years, and it’s not just because statisticians are beautiful people.
(Although we are quite nice to look at in that geek chic sort of way.)

Visualization
One of the best ways to explore and try to understand a large dataset is with
visualization. Place the numbers into a visual space and let your brain or
your readers’ brains find the patterns. We’re good at that. You can often find
stories that you might never have found with just formal statistical methods.
John Tukey, my favorite statistician and the father of exploratory data analy-
sis, was well versed in statistical methods and properties but believed that
graphical techniques also had a place. He was a strong believer in discover-
ing the unexpected through pictures. You can find out a lot about data just by
visualizing it, and a lot of the time this is all you need to make an informed
decision or to tell a story.
For example, in 2009, the United States experienced a significant increase
in its unemployment rate. In 2007, the national average was 4.6 percent.
In 2008, it had risen to 5.8 percent. By September 2009, however, it was
9.8 percent. These national averages tell only part of the story though.
It’s generalizing over an entire country. Were there any regions that had
higher unemployment rates than others? Were there any regions that
seemed to be unaffected?
The maps in Figure I-1 tell a more complete story, and you can answer the
preceding questions after a glance. Darker-colored counties are areas
that had relatively higher unemployment rates, whereas the lighter-
­colored counties had relatively lower rates. In 2009, you see a lot of
regions with rates greater than 10 percent in the west and most areas in
the east. Areas in the Midwest were not hit as hard (Figure I-2).
 I ntroduc T ion xvii

Figure I-1 ​Maps of unemployment in the United States from 2004 to 2009

Figure I-2 ​Map of unemployment for 2009

xviii I ntroduc T ion

You couldn’t find these geographic and temporal patterns so quickly with
just a spreadsheet, and definitely not with just the national averages. Also,
although the county-level data is more complex, most people can still
interpret the maps. These maps could in turn help policy makers decide
where to allocate relief funds or other types of support.
The great thing about this is that the data used to produce these maps is
all free and publicly available from the Bureau of Labor Statistics. Albeit
the data was not incredibly easy to find from an outdated data browser, but
the numbers are there at your disposal, and there is a lot sitting around
waiting for some visual treatment.
The Statistical Abstract of the United States, for instance, exists as hun-
dreds of tables of data (Figure I-3), but no graphs. That’s an opportunity
to provide a comprehensive picture of a country. Really interesting stuff. I
graphed some of the tables a while back as a proof of concept, as shown in
Figure I-4, and you get marriage and divorce rates, postal rates, electricity
usage, and a few others. The former is hard to read and you don’t get any-
thing out of it other than individual values. In the graphical view, you can
find trends and patterns easily and make comparisons at a glance.
News outlets, such as The New York Times and The Washington Post do a
great job at making data more accessible and visual. They have probably
made the best use of this available data, as related stories have come and
passed. Sometimes data graphics are used to enhance a story with a dif-
ferent point of view, whereas other times the graphics tell the entire story.
Graphics have become even more prevalent with the shift to online media.
There are now departments within news organizations that deal only with
interactives or only graphics or only maps. The New York Times, for exam-
ple, even has a news desk specifically dedicated to what it calls computer-
assisted reporting. These are reporters who focus on telling the news with
numbers. The New York Times graphics desk is also comfortable dealing
with large amounts of data.
Visualization has also found its way into pop culture. Stamen Design, a
visualization firm well known for its online interactives, has provided a
Twitter tracker for the MTV Video Music Awards the past few years. Each
year Stamen designs something different, but at its core, it shows what
people are talking about on Twitter in real-time. When Kanye West had his
little outburst during Taylor Swift’s acceptance speech in 2009, it was obvi-
ous what people thought of him via the tracker.
 I ntroduc T ion  xix

Figure I-3 ​Table from the Statistical Abstract of the United States

xx I ntroduc T ion

Figure I-4 ​A graphical view of data from the Statistical Abstract of the United States
 I ntroduc T ion xxi

At this point, you enter a realm of visualization less analytical and more
about feeling. The definition of visualization starts to get kind of fuzzy. For
a long time, visualization was about quantitative facts. You should recog-
nize patterns with your tools, and they should aid your analysis in some
way. Visualization isn’t just about getting the cold hard facts. Like in the
case of Stamen’s tracker, it’s almost more about the entertainment factor.
It’s a way for viewers to watch the awards show and interact with others
in the process. Jonathan Harris’ work is another great example. Harris
designs his work, such as We Feel Fine and Whale Hunt, around stories
rather than analytical insight, and those stories revolve around human
emotion over the numbers and analytics.
Charts and graphs have also evolved into not just tools but also as vehi-
cles to communicate ideas—and even tell jokes. Sites such as GraphJam
and Indexed use Venn diagrams, pie charts, and the like to represent pop
songs or show that a combination of red, black, and white equals a Com-
munist newspaper or a panda murder. Data Underload, a data comic of
sorts that I post on FlowingData, is my own take on the genre. I take every-
day observations and put it in chart form. The chart in Figure I-5 shows
famous movie quotes listed by the American Film Institute. It’s totally
ridiculous but amusing (to me, at least).
So what is visualization? Well, it depends on who you talk to. Some people
say it’s strictly traditional graphs and charts. Others have a more liberal P Find more Data
view where anything that displays data is visualization, whether it is data Underload on
FlowingData at
art or a spreadsheet in Microsoft Excel. I tend to sway more toward the
http://datafl
latter, but sometimes find myself in the former group, too. In the end, it
.ws/underload
doesn’t actually matter all that much. Just make something that works for
your purpose.
Whatever you decide visualization is, whether you’re making charts for
your presentation, analyzing a large dataset, or reporting the news with
data, you’re ultimately looking for truth. At some point in time, lies and
statistics became almost synonymous, but it’s not that the numbers lie.
It’s the people who use the numbers who lie. Sometimes it’s on purpose
to serve an agenda, but most of the time it’s inadvertent. When you don’t
know how to create a graph properly or communicate with data in an unbi-
ased way, false junk is likely to sprout. However, if you learn proper visu-
alization techniques and how to work with data, you can state your points
confidently and feel good about your findings.
Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
they did was to torpedo the Marlborough at Jutland, and she got
home under her own steam. Then there's the aerial menace——"

"Ah!" ejaculated Uncle Brian.

"Wash out," declared Peter. "There's no instance of a warship being

destroyed in action by aerial attack."[31]

"But that form of warfare has developed tremendously since the

Armistice," remarked his uncle.

"Under peace conditions," Peter reminded him. "Take the

Agamemnon tests. That vessel was directed by wireless. There was
no crew on board. The airmen could hover over the ship and drop
their bombs without hindrance. If her anti-aircraft guns had been
manned the conditions would have been very different. As a matter
of fact, the navy will find an effective safeguard against aerial attack
——"

"Has it?" inquired Uncle Brian eagerly.

"No; but it will," Peter hastened to assure him. "And the big-gun
ship will still carry on."

"In limited numbers," corrected Uncle Brian. "In my opinion, this

reduction of armaments is, as far as the British Empire is concerned,
the greatest possible mistake. No doubt the League of Nations is an
admirable theory, but it won't—it can't work. The only way to be at
peace is to prepare for war—and to prepare for it so thoroughly that
a possible enemy won't have the ghost of a chance. Just fancy! Only
a few years before the war there was an outcry against the voting of
six millions a year for the increase of the British navy. Six millions a
year, and the daily bill, during the war, was a little over that amount!
Had we done so, the British fleet would have been maintained at the
Three Power standard. Germany wouldn't have tried to wrest the
trident from Britannia's grasp, and Kaiser Bill would still be on his
throne, amusing himself with military manoeuvres with his army
that[32] would be utterly useless for aggressive purposes against
either France or Russia.
 [Illustration: PETER MEETS SEÑOR DIAZ Page 34]

And because we allowed the standard of naval superiority to be

dangerously reduced Germany took the risk. Result, four years of
desperate fighting, a million of British lives lost, and the Empire
victorious yet reduced to the verge of commercial ruin. "Mind you,
Peter, I'm not a pessimist," continued his uncle. "I'm only stating
facts. The onlooker sees the most of the game. Out here I can only
judge by what I hear from home—stories of unemployment,
industrial strife, class warfare, and all that. In due course we'll get
over that. The British Empire isn't done yet—not by a long chalk. Do
you know why I wrote and suggested that you should come out to
Rioguay?"

Peter shook his head.

"You'll be very much surprised when I tell you, Peter," said Uncle
Brian. "It's this."

At that moment there was a knock on the door. A servant entered

and said something to his master.

"We'll have to defer explanations," remarked Brian Strong. "I've a

visitor—Don Ramon Diaz. He'll interest you, I'm sure."[33]

CHAPTER IV
Don Ramon Diaz
 Uncle and nephew rose to receive the belated caller.

Don Ramon Diaz was a tall, swarthy individual, with rather plump
features, loose lipped, and with a nose that bore a resemblance to a
parrot's beak. His dark hair was long and plastered down with
pomade. When he smiled, which was very frequently, the effort was
"like the grin of a sea-sick monkey", as Peter afterwards described it.

He wore evening dress, with a broad crimson sash over his

shoulder and the Order of the Sun of Rioguay on his breast. His
tobacco-stained fingers were glittering with diamond rings.

"Here is my nephew, Peter Corbold, Señor Diaz," announced Brian.

Both men bowed—Ramon Diaz with the grace and dignity of an

hidalgo of Old Spain, Peter with as much display of cordiality as he
could muster.

"S'pose he's a natural product of the country," thought Peter.

"Dashed if I like the cut of his jib; but since he's my uncle's friend, I
must take him at his own valuation—not mine."[34]

"So you have arrived in Rioguay, young man," exclaimed Don

Ramon Diaz, speaking in tolerable English.

"Yes, I blew in quite unexpectedly this evening," replied Peter,

unconsciously using a general naval term.

"Blew in, ah!" exclaimed Don Ramon. "You are an aviator then?"

"No," corrected Peter. "I was a naval officer. 'Blew in' means
'dropped in'."

"Dropped in what?" inquired Diaz.

Peter went into explanations.

 The Rioguayan listened intently, and, pulling a notebook from his
pocket, made a note of the term Peter had used.

"I know most of the English slang words," he declared. "For seven
years I lived in London. I do not like it. What is your opinion of
Rioguay?"

"I haven't seen very much of it," said Peter. "It's rather too early for
me to give an opinion."

Don Ramon smiled superciliously.

"Your nephew, Mr. Strong, is more discreet than the majority of

your countrymen," he remarked. "I believe he is here to assist you in
your work?"

"I hope so," replied Uncle Brian. "Up to the present, we have had
little time to discuss matters."

For some moments there was an awkward pause. Apparently Don

Ramon wanted to ask a question, but hesitated to do so. Peter,
having taken a dislike to the man—although he refrained as much as
possible from showing it—was quite in the dark as to who and[35]
what Don Ramon Diaz was, and whether his uncle regarded the
Rioguayan merely as an acquaintance, or a person with whom he
had business relations.

"Don Ramon is the Minister for Aviation in the Republic of Rioguay,"

explained Uncle Brian. "I suppose you didn't know that out here
there is a well-organized commercial air-service?"

"I saw a flying-boat when we were entering San Antonio harbour,"

replied Peter.

"It interested you, then," remarked Don Ramon.

"Naturally," agreed young Corbold.

 By degrees, Diaz steered the conversation into a channel that Peter
wished particularly to avoid in present circumstances, and soon the
latter found himself engaged in a controversy about the respective
merits of the navies of the Great Powers.

Presently Peter heard the Rioguayan refer to the "German victory

at Jutland".

"I beg your pardon, Don Ramon," he said quietly, "but did you say
'German victory'?"

"Was it not so?" asked Diaz, with his irritating leer.

"Rather not," declared Peter, with some heat.

He fully expected his uncle to support him, but Uncle Brian gave no
sign.

"Listen: I tell you a fairy tale," began Diaz.

"You've told it already, Don Ramon."

"A fable, I mean," continued the Rioguayan. "A bull-dog and a

fierce cat lived in a farmyard. They were very great friends. On the
other side of the yard[36] a hound-wolf—no, I mean a wolf-hound—
lived in a stone kennel. The wolf-hound did not love the bull-dog and
the cat. In fact, they quarrelled, but the wolf-hound was not strong
enough to fight the bull-dog. One day, the cat walked in front of the
wolf-dog's kennel, and the wolf-dog pounced on him. Oh yes, the cat
fought strongly, but the wolf-dog bit him hard. Then the cat called
for help to his friend the bull-dog. Up came the bull-dog and placed
himself between the wolf-hound and his kennel, before the wolf-
hound could break away from the cat. 'Now,' said the bull-dog, 'I've
got you.' Then the wolfhound was frightened, because the bull-dog
had got him in the open away from his kennel. But the bull-dog was
in no hurry. He sat down to scratch himself. As he did that the wolf-
hound slipped past the bull-dog and regained his kennel, having hurt
the cat far more than he had hurt himself. Therefore the wolf-hound
won. Do you see my point?"

Peter shook his head.

"You are very dense, young man," said Don Ramon reprovingly.
"For the bull-dog substitute your Admiral Jellicoe, the cat represents
Beatty, and the wolfhound von Scheer. Can you deny that the
Germans won?"

"Certainly," replied Peter. "A victory is decided by its results. Did the
Hun fleet come out again before the Armistice? Only once, and then
it never meant to fight. It tried to lure Beatty into a nest of
submarines. Failing in that, it promptly legged it[37] back for all it was
worth. At Jutland, Don Ramon, the German fleet was beaten and
totally demoralized. Its surrender and internment at Scapa prove
that."

Don Ramon threw out his hands and shrugged his shoulders.

"Mr. Strong," he said, turning to Uncle Brian, "I cannot convince

this headstrong nephew of yours. But we will make good use of him,
will we not? I must now wish you good-night, gentlemen."

Brian Strong escorted his visitor to the patio where his car was
waiting.

"Insufferable sweep," soliloquized Peter, when he found himself

alone. "Wonder what he was driving at when he said 'we will make
good use of him'? He isn't jonnick, that's a dead cert. And hanged if
I can fathom Uncle Brian's attitude towards him."

It was quite five minutes before Brian Strong rejoined his nephew.
Peter fancied that his face looked drawn and haggard.

Without a word, Brian closed the big French windows and drew
thick curtains over them and the door, which was rather remarkable,
considering the night was hot and sultry. Then he switched on an
electric fan, produced a tantalus and glasses and poured himself out
a stiff peg of whisky.

"Peter, my boy," he said at length, "do you know what I'm doing
here? Mining engineering? Not a bit of it. You said you saw a flying-
boat to-day. That was built from my designs in its entirety. I am[38]
the chief constructor of the Rioguayan aviation service. But I've got
myself into a very nasty mess, Peter. That's why I sent for you. I'm
in the rottenest hole that a fellow could possibly find himself. I'm
relying on your help, Peter. If you fail me——!"[39]

CHAPTER V
The Menace

Peter Corbold regarded his uncle with feelings of amazement and

pity. Up to the present, he had looked upon his relative as a man of
means, and, although somewhat erratic in his methods, of action.

He had been under the impression that he had come out to

Rioguay to get assistance from Uncle Brian. Now he found that Uncle
Brian required his help. That put things on a totally different footing.

Naturally, he concluded, Uncle Brian's difficulties were not of a

pecuniary nature, since he would not appeal to a nephew financially
"on the rocks" for aid. Brian Strong was not that sort. The fact
remained that he was, as he had confessed, in a hole and wanted to
confide in his stalwart nephew.
 "What's the trouble, Uncle?" he inquired. "Has anyone been
threatening you out here? Are you in danger of your life?"

"I am," replied Brian Strong. "But that I consider a mere detail. It's
not my life that counts, Peter;[40] it's my work. I've made a terrible
blunder—unconsciously, perhaps, but—well, I may as well
commence at the beginning."

"Fire away," exclaimed Peter encouragingly.

"My story starts with my arrival in Rioguay," began Uncle Brian.

"I'm lowering my voice purposely, Peter. Although no one in my
employ speaks English—at least, I think so—there are other
Rioguayans who do, and out here walls have longer ears than you
and I are accustomed to. Well, I hadn't been more than a week in
the place, when I discovered that Rioguay was a much more go-
ahead republic than any I had previously seen during my wanderings
in South America. There certainly seemed a jolly good opening in the
mining-engineering line, and on making inquiries I found that I had
to obtain a licence and register myself at the Department of the
Minister of the Interior. That presented little difficulty. I gave all
particulars of my career in accordance with the official requirements,
paid the necessary fees, and came on to Tepecicoa.

"About a week later, I had a visit from a Don José Cordova, who
introduced himself as the Minister of Transport. He was a long time
beating about the bush. You'll find, Peter, that that is a characteristic
of the Rioguayans. They'll use a hundred words to say what an
Englishman would in half a dozen. He was courteous—very. He
wanted me to take up an appointment under the Rioguayan
Government, to design and supervise the construction of aircraft
for[41] commercial purposes. He mentioned the salary and stated
that the estancia of El Toro would be provided as official quarters.
Then, after a while, he asked whether I would embody the
stabilizing device that I had offered to the British Air Ministry in the
new type of machine."
 "The one the Air Ministry turned down?" asked Peter.

"Yes, unfortunately," was the reply. "I tried to find out how Don
José Cordova came to know about it, but he was as tight as an
oyster over that. However, I considered the proposition. It was a
tempting one. The British Government had had the chance of taking
it up. Cordova took pains to point out to me that the Rioguayan
Government would claim sole rights for the space of one year only.
After that, I would be at liberty to sell the patent rights to anyone
who cared to take the invention up. A week later, I accepted the
appointment and signed the agreement. I took possession of El Toro,
engaged my staff and a swarm of mechanics and labourers, and set
to work. But it was not long before I made the discovery that I was
virtually a prisoner and that my work was primarily intended as a
menace to the country of my birth and to which I still belong.

"For the last two and a half years, there has been a growing anti-
British feeling in Rioguay. The president, Jaime Samuda, is at the
head of it, although I have been unable to find out the exact cause.
Samuda is ambitious. There's no denying he's a strong man.[42] The
fact that there hasn't been a revolution in Rioguay since he was
elected in 1917 proves that. At any rate, he's worked up a strong
feeling against the British."

"So Mackenzie gave me to understand," observed Peter.

"Mackenzie!" exclaimed Uncle Brian. "Is Mackenzie back? I

understood he'd cleared off for good. He was lucky enough to get
out of the country. He won't have such an easy task next time.
When and where did you meet him?"

Peter explained.

"He told me he was returning to Rioguay only to square up his

affairs," he added.
 "I hope he'll be able to carry out his programme," remarked Uncle
Brian grimly. "It's easy enough to come into the country, but a jolly
hard job to get away from it, if they don't want to let you. I can tell
you this, Peter; there are a hundred chances to one against your
leaving Rioguay for the next twelve months."

"Sounds interesting," rejoined his nephew coolly. "So interesting,

that I might be tempted to try, just to see what happens. On the
other hand, I rather fancy I'd like to hang on and see a bit more of
this anti-British republic. After all's said and done, what's sentiment
without action? All their anti-British feeling can't possibly do any
harm to the British Empire. It's a case of a mouse trying conclusions
with a lion. Well, what is the reason for this attitude?"[43]

"I can't say. As you know, the Rioguayans sent a contingent to the
Western Front in 1917."

"Yes, and the Boche made a point of capturing every section of

trenches they held," added his nephew. "They couldn't put up a
fight; they simply bolted, leaving either the French or the British to
straighten out the line."

"That, I believe, is a fact," agreed Uncle Brian. "But, having taken

part in the Great War as an ally, Rioguay wanted a share in the
profits, so to speak. All she got was a couple of U-boats for breaking
up, four destroyers, and a small light cruiser. She wanted far more,
didn't get it, but got disgruntled instead. That may be the cause of
the present agitation, but I'm not sure. What's more important is
that the agitation has developed into a serious menace."

"How?"

"Consider the natural position of Rioguay. She has access to the

sea, but a hostile fleet couldn't operate against her without violating
the territorial waters of the Republics of San Valodar and San Benito.
If any attempt were made to do so, those Republics would appeal to
the United States for protection under the Monroe Doctrine. You
know what that means. Rioguay has three or four modern
battleships, and plenty of trained seamen under Russian and
German naval officers. She has an understanding with two other
South American republics that in the event of hostilities, she may
take over their modern fleets en bloc. At San Antonio, at the present
moment, there[44] are building twenty or thirty light commerce-
destroyers, under the guise of merchantmen."

"Saw 'em," corroborated Peter. "Thought they looked a bit fine in

the hull design for merchant hookers. Well, fire away, Uncle."

"Undoubtedly Rioguay's waiting her time to have a slap at

England," continued Uncle Brian. "What with the drastic reduction of
the British navy and the ever-present difficulty over the Near Eastern
question and, perhaps, trouble in India and Egypt, it looks as if that
opportunity were imminent. Apparently, Rioguay's plan is to harry
British commerce in the South Atlantic, use her fleet to tackle any
flying squadron of British light cruisers, and to occupy certain of the
West Indian Islands and Guiana. If the British navy put in an
appearance in considerable force, they would certainly drive the
Rioguayan fleet off the sea, but could they do anything against
Rioguay itself? Then there is the Rioguayan air fleet to be taken into
consideration. That's where you and I come in, Peter."

"By Jove! I'd like to have the chance," exclaimed Peter. "But if we
are virtually prisoners, what can we do in the matter? Supposing you
struck—refused point-blank to do another stroke, could the
Rioguayans carry on building aircraft?"

"Unfortunately, yes," admitted Brian Strong. "As matters stand,

they have a numerous fleet of fast flying-boats, capable of operating
in a radius of two thousand miles. They can rise almost vertically in
a[45] twenty miles an hour breeze and hover without the aid of
helicopters—never did think much of helicopters, Peter; that's power
wrongly applied and consequently wasteful. With four engines, each
of 850 horse-power, they are unsurpassed for speed by any other
aircraft in existence. Their all-steel planes and armour-plated hull are
practically invulnerable to shrapnel, and only a direct hit could put
them out of action. And their means of offence is highly formidable:
liquid-air torpedoes. They aren't my invention, thank heaven. Now,
you ask, what can we do? I'll tell you. Do you remember that almost
my first question to you on your arrival was, 'can you fly?' or words
to that effect."

"And you also said, 'That's a pity, because I wanted to bring you
down '," said Peter.

"You thought it a strange thing for me to say?"

"I thought it was a joke on your part, Uncle."

"It wasn't," declared Brian Strong. "I was in sober earnest. Having
perfected the Rioguayan air fleet, I now want to undo the results of
my handiwork. And I think I've solved the problem. I have
constructed a secret anti-aircraft device. The Rioguayan mechanics
think it is a searchlight apparatus, and I let them go on thinking.
Now, I want to put it to a practical test. Since I can't fly and be on
the ground at the same time, I had to look out for an assistant.
Obviously, a Rioguayan pilot wouldn't do. To-morrow I'll show you
the device, but what I want you to do is to learn to fly. It's simple
and quite safe with my[46] design. You'll pick it up in a couple of
weeks. Then I want you to go up. I'll manipulate the ground
apparatus and see if I can compel you to make a forced landing.
There'll be little or no risk, as far as you are concerned. Are you
game?"[47]

CHAPTER VI
 The Super Flying-boat

Peter Corbold was usually a sound sleeper with an easy conscience,

but his first night ashore in Rioguay was a restless one. He had had
a tiring day, followed by the disturbing influence of finding himself in
utterly strange surroundings; while as a climax came Uncle Brian's
lengthy and amazing disclosures.

His bedroom was in the east wing of the building—a spacious

apartment, with stone walls and floor, the latter covered with native
rush-mats. In one corner was a porcelain bath with shower
attachment, in another a wardrobe, with the legs standing in shallow
bowls filled with kerosene—a necessary precaution against the
destructive insects of that region. The bed was of the folding cot
variety, its legs also standing in oil-filled saucers, while in addition, it
was fitted with a double mosquito curtain. The two windows were
jalousied, while on the outside were iron bars that gave the spacious
room a prison-like aspect.

There were electric bells, hot- and cold-water taps, and a

ventilating fan, indicating that El Toro was not behind the times as
far as the interior fittings went.[48]

Peter lost no time in undressing and turning in. Having made sure
that no rest-destroying mosquito lurked within the gauzy network,
he switched out the light and closed his eyes.

But sleep he could not. He reviewed the conversation with his

uncle. Several things required explanation. What prevented Uncle
Brian, even if he remained in Rioguay, from communicating his
discoveries to the British Government? Why hadn't the Foreign Office
got to know of this seemingly obscure republic's preparations and
the creation of a formidable navy and a still more formidable air-
fleet? Then, again, what was Ramon Diaz's object in trying to ram
down Peter's throat his version of Jutland? These and a score of
other questions had for the present to remain unanswered.
 Nor could he account for President Jaime Samuda's temerity in
contemplating a trial of strength with the British Empire, unless the
Rioguayans, taking the case of Ireland as a guide, had utterly
underrated the mental and physical fibre of the British nation.

The dawn of another day found Peter opened-eyed and restless on

his bed.

With the first blast of the syren summoning the employees of the El
Toro works to their labours, Peter rose, completed his toilet, and
strolled out of the house.

Somewhat to his surprise, he encountered his uncle looking brisk

and spruce, as if the strain of the previous evening's conversation
had had no effect upon him.

"Hello, Peter!" he exclaimed. "No need for you[49] to turn out so

early on your first morning here. Slept well?"

His nephew had to admit that he had not.

"You can make up for that during the heat of the day," rejoined
Uncle Brian. "Here, we work from 6 a.m. to 10 a.m., knock off till
four in the afternoon, and then carry on till six. It's a short working
day compared with that at home, but I find that it's useless to
expect to keep these fellows at high pressure for more than six
hours a day. That they've jolly well got to do, or the Government
would have something to say. Well, now you're up and about, we
may as well make a tour of the works."

They made a tour of the rolling shop, the pressing shop, the
foundry, and other departments. Although in every case the plant
was up-to-date, there was nothing to cause Peter to show any
surprise. He had seen similar machines at Dartmouth Engineering
College and at the various Royal dockyards.
 Presently they arrived at a large galvanized-iron building, enclosed
by a massive wall of earth.

"This is part of the oil-fuel distillery," announced Uncle Brian. "Here

we have stored about 50,000 gallons of kerosene, conveyed by pipe-
line from the wells at Tajeco, about fifty miles from here. From this
tank it passes into an apparatus in yonder building to have the flash-
point raised to something like 200° F."

"Then what good is it?" asked Peter.

"Better than before for aeroplane engine work," replied his uncle.
"All our motors are kerosene fired.[50] We don't use petrol. And
kerosene with a high flash-point is practically non-inflammable."

"And consequently non-explosive," added Peter.

"Precisely. That's where safety comes in. Roughly, eighty per cent
of fatal accidents to flying men at one time were attributable to fire.
This kerosene we are using is an explosive only when under high
pressure. In the petrol tank it's safe; even in the carburetter it is
non-explosive; but directly it enters the cylinders and is affected by
the compression-stroke it is not only more volatile, but far more
powerful than the best aviation spirit."

"But I take it that the fuel in the 'bus is under pressure," remarked
Peter, who was beginning to take a lively interest. "It must be, in
order to maintain an even feed to the motor."

"You're wrong there," replied his relative. "I'll explain that when I
show you a flying-boat ready for service."

An inspection of the assembling sheds where aircraft were in

various states of completion followed, Uncle Brian pointing out
various "gadgets" embodied in the design to render the machine
practically "fool-proof".
 "Now, here's a flying-boat in an advanced stage," he said. "All that
is required to complete her is painting and varnishing. That's done in
another building. What do you think of this little fellow?"

The "little fellow" was actually one hundred and twenty feet in
length, with a wing-span of a little over [51] sixty feet. With the
exception of the patent glass scuttles and screens it was constructed
entirely of metal.

"There you are," continued the inventor. "A child could fly it once it
has 'taken off'. The planes, you see, are on a horizontal axis, and
automatically arranged so that should the diving angle become too
acute they will adjust themselves and bring the 'bus into a position
of safety. The horizontal rudders, too, can either be controlled by
hand or set to act automatically. Thus a pilot can set a course and
the machine will just carry on, even to the extent of allowing for
'drift' and unequal wind pressure. Get aboard, Peter; I want to show
you the motors."

His nephew swung himself up by the open entry-port and found

himself in the "cargo hold", or what would be in war-time the
bombing compartment. From here a door through an armoured
bulkhead led to the pilot's "office" immediately above the for'ard pair
of engines.

"Now, Peter, here they are," announced Brian Strong. "See

anything remarkable about these contraptions?"

"Sleeveless valves," replied Peter.

"Good. Anything else?"

"Why, if that's the full tank, it's right over the engine," exclaimed
Peter. "And quite a small one at that."

"If you'll look, you'll find that there are three tanks to each engine,"
said his uncle, "and one larger one between each pair of motors.
They are gravity tanks[52] fitted with automatic valves, so that
whatever position the boat assumes there's always one tank
supplying fuel to each motor. Now you see the system of not having
the kerosene under pressure until it enters the cylinders. Carburetter
—usual type; ignition—magneto."

Brian Strong took hold of his nephew's arm, and in a lower voice
continued:

"That's the heel of Achilles, my boy—the magneto. I've a little

gadget I'm perfecting that will knock all existing anti-aircraft devices
silly. It will make these flying-boats as harmless as a non-bacteric fly
—as a bee without its sting. There'll be no aerial menace, Peter. The
blighters who declare that the big battleship is a back number will be
utterly confounded. And as for Rioguay——!"

He broke off to give a cheerful chuckle.

"Let's get back and have breakfast," he said.[53]

CHAPTER VII
Peter's First Ascent

"There is no knowing what tricks these Rioguayans will be up to,"

observed Uncle Brian, as they gained the open expanse between the
workshops and the house. "For instance, I should not be at all
surprised if I knew there was a secret dictaphone concealed in each
of my private rooms. They are undoubtedly bluffing me—or at least
they think they are—and I'm bluffing them in return. So I just carry
on, do the work I contracted to do in a thorough and conscientious
manner. What I do beyond that is my affair."

"I was thinking, Uncle——"

"Thinking what?"

"Can't you send in a report about what is going on here to the

British Government?"

"How?"

"By letter, or cablegram in code?"

"Not an atom of use, Peter. That letter I wrote asking you to join
me here was opened by the Rioguayan Government officials. Every
scrap of paper that leaves here through the post is carefully
examined. They wouldn't accept a code message. It would only[54]
serve to increase their suspicions, and that I want to avoid as much
as possible. You and I, Peter, are marked men. If, for instance, you
went into Tepecicoa, you'd be shadowed from the moment you left
till the time you returned."

"You said I was to take up flying," persisted his nephew. "What's to

prevent me taking you up and making a dash for the West Indies or
the Southern States?"

"In the first place," objected Uncle Brian, "you won't be allowed up
alone. There will be always six or eight of the crew. They won't
prevent us from carrying out our proposed experiments, but they'd
very soon stick a knife between your ribs if you attempted to fly
across the frontier. In the second place, if you attempted to start at
night without a crew there's always a strong guard posted over the
hangars. No doubt we'll find a way out when the time comes, but
until then keep your eyes open and don't look too wise!"

"There's another point, Uncle."

 "And that is——?"

"That greaser Ramon Diaz: what was his object in trying to prove
that Jutland was a Hun victory?"

"I think simply because he wanted to see how you'd take it. Out
here they think it is a great stunt to be able to rile an Englishman.
According to their ideas Great Britain is fast crumbling. They'll never
make a bigger mistake. Perhaps some of the newspapers are
responsible for that. The Rioguayans cannot understand our form of
government. To them it is[55] an absurdity to appoint a Prime
Minister and then begin to howl him down. Out here there is no
Opposition, or if there is, it does not advertise. People in Rioguay
who ostentatiously differ from the President and the Senate are
forcibly and finally removed."

"Well, Uncle, I thought Diaz was a pal of yours, and naturally I

didn't want to start scrapping with him in your house, but I should
have liked to give him a straight left."

"It's as well you didn't," remarked Brian Strong drily, "although I

quite sympathize with you in your desire to alter the features of
Ramon's figurehead. Keeping your temper under control puzzles
these Rioguayans far more than if you had hit out. You'll have plenty
of provocation, Peter, especially later on when they think I've
guessed the secret of the flying-boat's true colours. Our policy just
at present is to carry on, eat humble-pie if needs be, and to prepare
a line of retreat as soon as my anti-aircraft device is tested and
perfected."

Breakfast over, Brian suggested to his nephew that he should take

a stroll round the flying ground until siesta.

"I'll have to be fairly busy," he added. "But this evening we'll have a
'private view' of this little invention of mine."
 Accordingly, Peter made his way to the "taking-off ground", which
consisted of a sloping floor of wood, bordered on one side by a belt
of sand and on the other by a track of earth covered with coarse
grass—the[56] three differently constructed in order to give the pilots
experience in rising from various kinds of ground. At the end of the
expansive slipway was a lake nearly a mile in length, artificially
constructed in order to give the flying-boats practice in taking off
from and alighting on water before being dispatched to their tidal
river base at San Antonio.

There were at least half a dozen craft undergoing flying tests, or

else being employed as instruction machines for budding aviators.
The pilots were young men, alert and keen on their work. Peter had
to admit that. There was little or nothing of the supposed South
American languor about them.

Peter Corbold's arrival on the flying ground had attracted a certain

amount of attention, the airmen looking at him curiously and passing
remarks that, owing to his ignorance of the language, left him quite
"at sea". Every Rioguayan on the works and on the estate of El Toro
seemed to know who he was.

For some while he stood watching the huge amphibians "take off".
This they did after only a very short run down the inclined plane,
rising steeply in the air with very little effort. The training at El Toro
was confined to rising and alighting both on land and water, and
being able to fly a straight course. Fancy flights and stunts were left
severely alone until the flying-boats left for their war-base.

Presently, one of the pilots standing by came up and made signs to

Peter that he might go as a passenger. Although he had come out
without any intention of[57] "going up", Peter accepted the offer with
alacrity.

"The blighter would think I had cold feet if I refused," he

soliloquized, as he followed the pilot into the interior of the flying-
boat, where he found five other Rioguayans already there—lads
undergoing instruction. The two mechanics—one for each pair of
motors—were not visible, their "stations" being in the alleyway
between the engines and below the space ostensibly to be used for
the storage of merchandise.

It was Peter's first time of "going up", and he had to confess that
he did not find the experience very exhilarating. The enclosed
fuselage practically eliminated all sensation of speed, and once the
initial movement was over—somewhat like the starting of a lift—
there was little beyond the noise of the motors to convey the
suggestion of speed.

Going to one of the side scuttles, Peter looked earthwards. By this

time the flying-boat had attained an altitude of between 2500 and
3000 feet. At that height the land looked flat and uninteresting as it
apparently moved slowly below the ninety miles an hour aircraft. It
was only by observing the shadow of the flying-boat upon the sun-
dried plain that Peter could realize that he was being carried through
the air at a rate that he had never previously attained.

Looking through the glass door between the main saloon and the
pilot's office, Peter saw that the man had abandoned the joy-stick
and was leaning back in his seat and rolling a cigarette.[58]

"He's bored stiff," was the young Englishman's unspoken remark.

The pilots under instruction had also lost interest, but owing to a
very different reason. It was their first flight, and already every one
of them was in the throes of air-sickness.

It was evidently the intention of their instructor to prolong their

agony, for the flying-boat was still climbing steadily and heading for
the Sierra Colima, a range of jagged mountains forming the north-
eastern frontier of the republic.
 Here, there is to be found a perpetual turmoil of air currents, the
torrid atmosphere of the plains rising on either side of the mountains
and engaging in conflict with the cold blasts of air in the higher
regions. Not only were there fierce, eddying winds to be met with,
but highly dangerous air-pockets—veritable pitfalls taxing to the
uttermost the resources of the pilot.

For a good twenty minutes the flying-boat tore madly over the tops
of the jagged peaks. Lurching, side-slipping, flung almost vertically
through a distance of two hundred feet, twisted like a withered leaf
in an autumn gale, the machine provided a series of thrills to the
now far from bored Peter. Gripping a metal rod, he divided his
attention between the view below, the cool daring of the pilot, and
his own efforts to prevent himself being hurled violently against the
sides of the fuselage.

"That chap is some airman, although he's a Dago,"[59] declared

Peter. "Those other fellows look like having a very rough time of it."

They were. The five were lying utterly helpless upon the floor,
sliding in a confused mass every time the machine gave a violent
lurch.

Greatly to his surprise, Peter felt no sign of air-sickness. Why he

was immune he knew not. It was possibly owing to the fact that he
was a sailor, but he remembered instances of his late brother officers
going up for joy-rides and quickly falling victims to air-sickness.

"If I could manage this 'bus," he soliloquized, "and I wanted to

clear out of the country, who's there to prevent me? Deal effectively
with the pilot and the trick's done. But there's no hurry; there'll be
plenty of excitement down there before the time comes to do a bunk
with Uncle Brian."

Half an hour later, the flying-boat swooped down towards the

landing ground. This was a far more exciting bit of work than the
comparatively tame ascent.
 The ground appeared to leap upwards to meet the descending
machine. Peter held his breath, fully expecting a terrific bump. The
thought flashed through his mind that perhaps the pilot had lost
control.

Peter watched the custodian of his fate. The pilot was sitting well
back in his seat, his right hand grasping the lever controlling the
planes. With a slow deliberate movement, he pulled the lever
towards him. The flying-boat's speed was instantly checked. Her
fore-[60] and-aft axis came to a horizontal position. Then the bows
appeared to rise ever so slightly, while at the same moment the four
propellers ceased revolving.

There was a bump, but it was far less violent than Peter had
expected. Another and yet another of less magnitude and the flying-
boat was at rest once more on terra firma.

The pilot scrambled out, followed by the two mechanics. Peter

dropped lightly to earth, with a sensation of elation at having
successfully passed through the ordeal of his first flight.

He was half-way to the house when he glanced back to see the

first of the five miserable looking "quirks" crawling painfully out of
the fuselage.

"So you've been up," observed Uncle Brian. "How did you like it?"

"Not so dusty," replied Peter. "Those poor blighters under

instruction didn't seem to revel in it, though."

"They wouldn't," rejoined Uncle Brian. "That flying-boat is of an old

type, and is used only for instructional purposes. She's known to the
instructors here as El Boyeta—the Emetic. So you weren't ill? Capital;
you'll make a good airman, I can see."

"And the sooner the better," added his nephew.[61]

 CHAPTER VIII
Uncle Brian's Secret

Brian Strong did not carry out his promise to show Peter his anti-
aircraft invention that evening. Nor did he for several days.
Circumstances prevented it. There was a steady stream of callers—
Rioguayan officials to discuss matters concerning the development of
the Mercantile Air Service. They were delightfully polite, because
they had not the slightest suspicion that Brian Strong knew they
were trying to bluff him, and the Englishman was equally cautious to
convey the impression that he was working merely for the industrial
good of the republic.

All things considered, Peter was enjoying himself. He entered

whole-heartedly into his part of the contract: to aid his relative to
the utmost to circumvent the Rioguayan authorities in the scheme to
twist the British lion's tail. In his spare time he devoted himself to
learning the language of the country, his instructor being a
Rioguayan employee who had lived in New York for nearly twenty
years. Much of his time was spent in the engineering shops, while
opportunities were given him to take practical instruction in
managing the controls of a planeless flying-boat, in which all[62]
would-be pilots had to qualify before entering into the actual
conditions of flight.

Thus a week went by and still the building that held Uncle Brian's
secret device remained a sealed book to him. In fact, Brian Strong
was so busy with work that demanded the almost constant presence
of Don Ramon Diaz and his colleagues, that he himself had to steer
clear of the experimental room.

"And how progresses the new type of searchlight, Señor Strong?"

inquired Don Ramon. "I should like to see what you are doing in that
direction."

"It is not progressing to the extent I should like," was the reply. "In
fact, there are one or two important details that have completely
baffled me. Of course, if you would like to see how far I've got with
the design——"

"No, no," said Don Ramon. "It is not really necessary. When you
have overcome the difficulties, then it will be a different matter."

"Quite so," agreed Uncle Brian with well-feigned disinterestedness.

"After all, there's nothing much to be seen. If and when the
apparatus is perfected—when I've tested it thoroughly and am
satisfied that it fulfils all that is required of it—then, no doubt, you
will be willing to negotiate for the exclusive rights say for one year."

This conversation had the desired result. It put Don Ramon off the
scent. He was not keenly interested in an improved searchlight.
Those the republic already possessed were of a particularly powerful
type[63] and sufficient for defence purposes. He begrudged the time
the Englishman spent in the work, but, he reasoned, a refusal on the
part of the Rioguayan authorities to allow Brian Strong to
experiment in that line might probably result in the foreigner "cutting
up rough" and refusing to proceed with his aerial work. That, for the
present, would never do. Until the El Toro works could be run
independently—without the aid and supervision of Brian Strong—it
was policy to humour the unsuspecting Englishman.

One evening at dinner, Uncle Brian suddenly inquired of his

nephew:
 "Are you under any obligation to the Admiralty, Peter? Have they
any call upon you?"

"I signed a paper stating my willingness to serve in the event of

hostilities," replied Peter. "I fancy we all did—those who were
pushed out under the so-called economy stunt."

"Humph!" ejaculated Uncle Brian. "It seems to me that signing the

document is unnecessary. If it came to a scrap, or even the
suggestion of a scrap, you young fellows would clamour to be in it—
and the older men too. I remember after the Boer War there were
hundreds of men 'fed up' with their treatment at the hands of the
War Office. They had good cause for complaint, too. 'Wait till the
next war,' they said, 'and we'll take precious good care to be out of
it.' But did they? The majority were amongst the first to volunteer.
That's the Briton all over. He'll grouse, but if danger threatens from
without, he'll be[64] there! And the greater the danger the greater
the enthusiasm to meet it.... Peter, my boy, you'll be more useful to
your country out here than at home—or even in the navy. Come
along; let's take a stroll as far as my experimental shed."

Nothing loth, Peter fell in with the suggestion. He was curious to

know the secret that the experimental shed held. His uncle had
hinted at something very mysterious, but beyond that he was dumb.

It was moonlight. Away down the valley came sounds of revelry

from the employees' quarters—men singing to the accompaniment
of guitars. The works and aviation sheds appeared deserted, but
Peter knew by this time that each place was strictly guarded. And
during the walk he fancied he heard movements behind the cacti
that bordered the road.

Brian Strong's private experimental shed stood well apart from the
rest of the works. It was by no means a large or a pretentious
building, measuring forty feet by twenty and constructed of
corrugated iron.
 Although Uncle Brian was perfectly aware that the Rioguayan
authorities could inspect the building at any time, his careless
assurances, coupled with the warning that any interference might
destroy the fruit of months of research, had resulted in a state of
immunity. He was allowed to carry on undisturbed.

But on the other hand, he guarded himself against a possible visit

from his State employers. There were drawings in the office, but
they referred to commonplace machinery and appliances. Of his
invention, his mag- [65] num opus, no plans were in existence, save
those that lived in his brain. He took extreme caution lest the future
enemies of his country should score on that point.

Producing a bunch of keys, Uncle Brian unlocked the comparatively

frail door and switched on a light. Peter was about to cross the
threshold when his uncle stopped him.

"Half a minute," exclaimed Uncle Brian. "Wait till I've put little
Timothy to bed."

His nephew looked in astonishment. Right in the middle of the

concrete floor was a coiled-up snake. Hearing footsteps, the reptile
raised its head, revealing a pair of deep-set eyes that glittered in the
artificial light.

Without hesitation, Uncle Brian grasped the snake at a point about

four inches behind the head. The reptile immediately coiled itself
round his arm.

"Timothy is quite harmless," explained Uncle Brian. "I got him from
an old Indian up-country. I need hardly say the poison sac has been
removed. He makes an excellent guard."

"So I should imagine," remarked Peter. "Dashed if I could handle

the brute, poisonous or otherwise."
 The snake was placed in a box. Uncle Brian poured out some milk
from a bottle, placed the saucer beside the reptile, and closed the
lid.

"Now we can get to work," he said briskly.

Peter glanced around him. There was little or nothing to suggest

anything mysterious about the place. On one side of the building
was a long bench, absolutely littered with tools, scraps of metal,
old[66] bottles, and other debris, together with a lathe and an
engineer's vice. Underneath the bench was a similar assortment of
rubbish.

"Bit of a lash up, eh?" commented Uncle Brian. "'Fraid I am a bit

untidy, but I can generally clear a space when I want to get to work.
Bear a hand and shift some of this stuff."

He pointed to a confused heap at one end of the bench. When the

pile of stuff was removed there stood revealed a small contraption
that looked as if it were a box camera with an acetylene motor-lamp
attached.

"There's my patent searchlight," he announced, with boyish

enthusiasm. "Don Ramon Diaz and all his precious pals can fool
about with that to their hearts' content. They won't be a penny the
wiser. Look at it. See if you can make anything of it."

Peter did as he was requested.

"Can't make head or tail of it, Uncle," he confessed frankly.

Uncle Brian proceeded to connect up a couple of terminals with a

wall switch.

"Now then," he resumed, "out with the light." The next instant the
place was in total darkness, the painted glass windows effectually
shutting out the brilliant moonlight.