They were crossing the Square. Bingley’s voice reached them: “Oh, I say, American Consul, prod up my man a bit—won’t you?”
The agonized face behind the bars took the edge off his own success to Routledge. He knew what these moments meant to the “Horse-killer.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not on speaking terms with the British Consul,” Milner observed lightly to Routledge, as they hurried to the carriage.
“I take it that Kuroki has crossed the Taitse—what have you heard?” Routledge inquired quickly.
“Just that much,” Milner replied. “The Japanese here say that Oyama will enter the city to-day. Kuroki pontooned the river two days ago. What you saw was the terrific effort of the Japanese to hold the bulk of the Russian army in the city and below while Kuroki flanked.”
“Exactly. I’m doing the story on those lines. I’ll be in Shanhaikwan to-night. You’ll get the decision to-day probably—wire me anywhere along the route, Consul?”
“Of course.”
“The World-News will get you Tokyo for your next post,” Routledge said with a laugh. “All I need is the single sentence—‘Oyama wins’ or ‘Oyama loses.’ By the way, the Japanese have got two good horses of mine——”
“I’ll see to them.”
The carriage reached the station at two minutes before eight.