Frightened screams arose on the air as word flew through the crowd.
Police heard, and, understanding, charged through the crowd. Soldiers heard, and used their clubbed rifles in an effort to get through to the scene of disorder.
Meanwhile, Dave Darrin was fighting with the man underneath him—the man who held the bomb that was about to explode. Suddenly Dave leaped up, leaving his opponent unconscious. In the half-second before getting to his feet, Darrin had taken the sputtering, glowing fuse between finger and thumb. Though his hand was being burned and blistered, he held on until he knew that the danger was past.
“Throw it away from their Majesties’ carriage,” implored the Japanese who could speak English.
“No need to now!” called Dave steadily, holding up the bomb to show the fuse was out.
In these few pulsing moments the speed of the Emperor’s carriage had not been increased. Neither the ruler nor his consort looked about.
The crowd was wild, and would have torn the miscreants to pieces, but the police blocked the attempt, and the men were marched away.
Dave and Dan were trying to hide themselves by mingling with the crowd, but a Japanese army officer, a general of division, hurried up to them, followed by members of his staff.
“Pardon, gentlemen, you must not go yet. You have done Japan a great service. The Government must know the names of such brave officers.”
Though reluctant to do so, the ensigns were forced by courtesy to give their names to General Kagi, as he introduced himself. Through the crowd, silent through respect for the Americans and thankfulness for the safety of their sovereigns, the general led the way to the residence of the Prime Minister. There was a conversation with a high official, then General Kagi said: