He went in search of Stone, and found the three men shut in the living room and with them was Nogi.
Stone’s persevering efforts, by advertisements and circulars had at last succeeded, and the impassive and non-committal Japanese was there, and quite willing to tell all he knew.
Fibsy interrupted his story.
“Go back,” he directed, “to the beginning. Let me hear it all. It’s O. K., F. S.”
“I was attending to my dining-room duties,” Nogi said, “and I had taken the water tray to the study. I was weary and hoped the master would soon retire. So, I occasionally peeped through the small window from the dining-room. I saw a lady come and make a visit, and then I saw her and I heard her go away. Then I hoped the master would go to bed. But, no—he was very busy. He wrote letters, he burned some papers, he moved about much. He was restless, disturbed. Then he sat at his desk and read his book.”
“This one?” cried Fibsy, excitedly waving the Martial.
“I think so—one like that, anyway.”
“This was the one! Go on.”
“Then—oh, it was strange! Then the master got up, went to the small window at the back of the room—”
“Which one?”