"That's just the point!" Freddy said quickly. "We are still alive. But why? That beggar was mad enough to eat us alive. I was certain he was going at least to kick us in the stomach, just as Japrats love to do so much. But the rotter didn't do a thing, except curse at us!"
"I know, and it doesn't seem to make sense," Dawson said slowly, and frowned. "But maybe it does at that. Maybe his nibs isn't the big shot around here. Maybe the way we shot off our mouths threw him out of gear. Maybe he didn't dare go to town on us without the big boy's okay."
"Let's say that that's right," young Farmer grunted. "Then what does this big boy want with us? In short, Dave, what earthly use are we to anybody, trussed up here as we are?"
"If that's the sixty-four dollar question, then I lose all I've built up," Dave groaned. "I don't know, Freddy. I don't know from nothing about this crazy mess. The only thing we can do is wait and see what happens."
"Yes, I'm afraid so," Freddy said with a heavy sigh. Then with an angry groan, "The dirty blighter, kicking all that nice food away!"
That Freddy Farmer could even think of his stomach at such a time made Dawson chuckle in spite of the torturing thoughts that stabbed their way through his confused brain. Then they both lapsed into silence, and continually shifted this way and that in a desperate effort to relieve the numbing pains that crawled up their arms and legs. Neither of them succeeded, and presently they both lay motionless, silently enduring their pains, and staring blank-eyed at each other as the gloom of death seeped in to flood their throbbing brains.
After a while fatigue rubbed out the numbing pains with sleep, and the next thing either of them realized the big Jap was back in the room and kicking them into wakefulness.
"Wake up, dogs of dogs!" he bellowed. "Wake up, fools!"
Hot angry words rose to Dawson's lips as he instinctively tried to turn his body away from the kicking foot, but the words went unspoken when he saw that the big Jap was not alone. Another Jap, about half the other's size, was also present. He was impeccably dressed in American clothes. From the top of his finely woven panama to the soles of his brown and white sport shoes he looked as though he had just stepped off Fifth Avenue, New York. Perhaps the most startling thing of all about the man was that he was rather good-looking. His face bore the tell-tale contours of a Jap, yes, but his teeth were not so much on the elephant tusk side. And they were the whitest teeth that Dawson had ever seen. Added to that, the Jap wore a warm friendly smile, with just a hint of amusement.
"Enough, Kato," he said in a pleasant voice, yet which contained a ring of steel. "Our little American guests are fully awake new. There is no necessity to be cruel always, Kato. Release their hands and feet."