They talked about little else that evening, and if, after they were asleep, they were troubled by nightmares, the cause was not hard to determine.
CHAPTER XII
WAH LEE'S BOSS
The next few days were crowded with incident. The city was filling up with visitors, to be present at the ceremonies attending the opening of the Canal. Many of these were celebrities known all over the world. Soldiers, admirals, diplomats, men of affairs, brushed shoulders with thousands less famous, but quite as interested in the great event so soon to take place. The boys were constantly meeting someone whom they had known in the "States"; and, in the renewal of old friendships and the making of new ones, the time flew by as though on wings.
But, underneath all the hubbub and excitement, Bert was conscious of an uneasy premonition. He tried to analyze it, and, when unsuccessful in this, attempted to throw it off. Despite all his efforts, however, it persisted. Call it clairvoyance, call it telepathy, he felt aware of impending danger. Some "coming event" was casting "its shadow before."
Again and again the words of Allison recurred to him. Not that he believed in them. Although they had stirred him at the time with a sense of vague foreboding, he had dismissed them as the utterance of an enthusiast, who felt a deep antipathy toward the Japanese, and magnified the danger to be feared from them. Of course, it was absurd—that last remark of his that at that very moment a Japanese fleet might be on its way to attack the Pacific Slope. He laughed as he thought of it, but, somehow, the laugh did not ring true.
Wah Lee had kept his word, and frequently called to see his friends. But his serenity seemed to be disturbed. He appeared troubled and distrait. At times, he acted as though he were about to tell them something, but was himself in doubt as to the value of his information, and restrained himself. His all-embracing smile was conspicuous by its absence.
"What's bothering the old chap, I wonder," ruminated Tom.
"Search me," laughed Dick. "Something on his conscience, maybe. Perhaps he hasn't burned as many joss sticks before his particular idol as he feels he ought, and the failure worries him."
"I'm going to get right down to brass tacks, the next time he comes," said Bert, "and get it out of him."