“Can you realize, sir, how I must have felt,” the little lieutenant went on, “when my mother permitted me to take this medallion from the bank vault to show it to American friends, and then I returned to the bank to find that the heirloom was missing from my pocket?”
“I have told you all that I know about the matter,” Ensign Dave insisted with dignity. “Is that not enough?”
“No, sir, it is not!” replied Lieutenant Katura, firmly. “I trust you will pardon me when I say that it was all a very stupid joke!”
“Joke?” gasped Dave. “Do you mean—”
He paused, unwilling to finish the sentence, for it seemed to him that this angry little Japanese had suddenly thrown a doubt around Mrs. Darrin’s word.
“You have no further explanation to offer me?” asked Katura frigidly.
“There is no other explanation to be offered, sir,” Dave Darrin returned, with equal stiffness.
“Then I am sorry, but I have to do—this!”
Advancing a step or two, Lieutenant Katura landed the flat of his right hand across the cheek of the American ensign.
Swifter than a flash Ensign Darrin returned the insult in the same manner.