“Come in,” called Dave.
“Hullo! There you are,” cried Danny Grin, opening the door a little and showing his head. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Darrin. Dave, old fellow, have you time to favor me with just a little visit in my room?”
“Why, certainly,” assented Darrin, rising at once, for there was suppressed excitement in Dalzell’s voice.
Dan, however, remained silent until he had led the way down the corridor and had closed the door of his room on the chums.
“Now, Dave,” gasped the other young ensign, “what is all this about?”
“What is what about?” parried Dave.
“Why,” Danny rattled on, “there is some yarn about Katura’s medallion having come into your possession. You and Katura had some words in the parlor, and he struck you in the face.”
“And I promptly returned the blow in kind,” Darrin responded.
“Exactly,” nodded Dalzell. “That appears to have been the start that is to lead up to something very pretty. When I came in I found Toruma and Hata awaiting me. They told me that Katura had sent them to see me, or any other friend or friends who you may prefer, to arrange for a meeting at which the memory of the blows exchanged should be wiped out. In plain words, David, little giant, you are challenged to fight a duel with Lieutenant Katura.”
“A duel?” echoed Dave Darrin, aghast. “That’s a joke!”