"Are you injured, brother?" anxiously asked Grant, bending over Nattie.
"No; a bruise, that's all. The police are coming at last, eh? They must have heard the shots. What are you going to say about this affair? Will you mention your suspicions?"
"No; it would be useless. We have no proof that he set these men upon us. We must bide our time and watch the scamp. Hush! they are here."
A squad of Japanese police, carrying lanterns, dashed up at a run. Their leader, a sub-lieutenant, wearing a uniform similar to that of a French gendarme, flashed his light over the capsized 'rikishas and their late occupants; then he asked the cause of the trouble in a respectful tone.
"We have been waylaid and attacked by three Ronins bent on robbery," replied Grant, in the native tongue. "We were on our way home from the theatre and while passing through this street were set upon and almost murdered."
"Which way did the scoundrels go?" hastily queried the lieutenant.
"Through that house. The karumayas fled in that direction also."
Leaving two of his men with the boys, the leader started in pursuit of the fugitives. No time was wasted in knocking for admission. One of the policemen placed his shoulder to the door and forced it back without much effort.
A moment later the sounds of crashing partitions and a glare of light from within indicated that a strict search was being carried on. Grant and Nattie waited a moment; then the latter said:
"Suppose we go home. We might hang around here for hours. If they catch the rascals they can call for us at the house."