Permission was readily obtained, and inside of an hour after their release from their enforced captivity, they were on the train for Tokyo.
“I knew we’d get the correct dope on that guy, Impey, before we got through, Bill,” O’Neil exclaimed happily. “He and those quill-pushers of his have been manufacturing a war out of nothing. They’ve had us all going.”
Marley smiled sympathetically, but hardly intelligently.
“You see, Bill,” O’Neil added confidingly, “this gentleman confidence man has been selling green goods to both sides, and making each believe that the other fellow is putting up a game on him. Nations ain’t like people,” he explained; “people can go to each other and find out just where they stand with one another, face to face. The spies of two nations sometimes get together and sell each other out and send home false dope. When two nations are so different, like us and the Japanese, we have to hire foreign spies because each would soon get on to the other nation’s spies, and then they wouldn’t be any use. This man Impey is an international spy; he belongs to any one who’ll pay him.”
The two sailors took rikishas from the station in Tokyo, and drove hurriedly to the hotel. They hoped to find the midshipmen there, for O’Neil, true to his allegiance, was intent upon giving them his important news first. Then there was time, if the lads saw fit, to tell Captain Rodgers. In another fifteen minutes they were knocking at the door of the American Embassy, where they had found the lads had gone.
The man-of-war’s men encountered two very white and frightened women after they had been led into the hallway by the Japanese man servant.
The sailors, hat in hand, stood much embarrassed before Helen Tillotson and her Japanese girl friend. It was quite evident to O’Neil that both had been crying, and even in his embarrassment the boatswain’s mate realized that something near a tragedy had happened.
“Are you Mr. O’Neil, from the ‘Alaska’?” Helen cried eagerly, grasping the startled man’s sleeve. “Oh, I am so glad you’ve come; something terrible will happen if we don’t prevent it at once!”
“Not Mister O’Neil,” the boatswain’s mate corrected, while Marley suppressed a grin at the title, despite the apparent tragedy believed to be imminent, “just plain Jack O’Neil, at your service, miss.”
“Then you will help us,” Helen begged.