The Emperor beheld the salute and bent his head in acknowledgment of the tribute.
Spt! Spt! Sizz-zz!
Dave Darrin’s military training made him start at the sound. Taller by a head than the Japanese in front of him, Dave’s eye caught sight of something that escaped the other onlookers.
“Quick, Dan!” he shouted. “A leg up!”
Though Dalzell did not know what the trouble was, he seized Dave below the hips, raising him as though to boost him over a high wall.
Over the heads of those in front of him plunged Dave Darrin. He came down, grappling with a sullen-looking Japanese, who, crouching over, held something concealed.
Spt! Sizz-zz!
Dave grappled with the man, who was trying to conceal the sputtering bomb preparatory to throwing it. Down in a heap went Dave and the Japanese, the sizzing bomb under both.
Standing close to the scoundrel with the bomb, were three other political malcontents, and these men now let knives slip down from their sleeves and sprang at the young ensign.
By this time Dan had reached his friend’s side and, using his fist, struck down the fellow who was nearest to Dave.