When Nattie Manning felt himself falling into the canal, sent there by Willis Round's cunning arm, he realized only one emotion, and that was rage—overpowering, consuming anger. He was wild with wrath to think that he had been tricked by the ex-bookkeeper, and the flames of his passion were not lessened by discomfiture.
It seemed that he had barely touched the water before he was out, climbing hand over hand up the jagged stone side. To this day he does not know how he emerged so quickly, or by what latent force of muscle he dragged himself to the passageway.
He gained the spot, however, and, thoroughly saturated with water, set out at the top of his speed after his assailant, whose shadowy figure scurried along in front of him toward the bay. What the lad hoped to accomplish he could not well tell himself, but he continued the pursuit with the keen determination of a bloodhound.
A short distance back of the "go-down," a narrow street ran from the bluff to the center of the city. It crossed the canal with the aid of a low bridge, and was occupied by storehouses.
The storm was passing away. The rain had slackened perceptibly, and the wind had died down to occasional puffs. In the south lightning could still be seen, but it was the mere glowing of atmospheric heat.
In that part of Yokohama devoted to mercantile warehouses, the street lamps were few and far between. There was one at the junction of the bridge and passageway, however, and when Nattie dashed into its circle of illumination, he suddenly found himself confronted by a uniformed policeman.
The latter immediately stretched out his arms and brought the lad to a halt. Then drawing his short-sword, he demanded in peremptory tones the meaning of his haste. Seeing the futility of resisting the official, Nattie hurriedly made known his identity, and explained the events of the night.
Brief as was the delay, when the two started in pursuit of the fugitive, enough time had been wasted to permit him to escape. A hasty search of the neighborhood brought no results. Willis Round was out of reach.
"No matter," remarked the lad, at last. "I know him, and it won't be difficult to apprehend the scoundrel."