With faces blanched with terror the three men sat rooted to their seats. They had seen the poor man fall directly in front of the speeding machine in a wild attempt to save himself from an unknown danger.
A cry had risen from the hundreds of bystanders. It held an ill-omened note of menace. The faces were no longer smiling, but wore a look of horror and righteous anger. The machine was completely surrounded. Phil would have leaped from the car to help the injured man, but he was met with open opposition and was forced back into his seat.
Aghast, the midshipmen saw Impey in the grasp of nearly a dozen threatening Japanese. His hands still clutched the steering wheel, and in a second his perfectly-fitting frock-coat was torn from his body. His face was white with fear, and his eyes, turned toward them, had a dumb animal appeal. To be hauled from his seat meant instant death at the hands of the outraged mob.
The car was given a sudden lurch by the efforts of several score of men who had lifted the forward end from the ground. With a shudder of horror they saw the form of the injured one carried away from under the cruel wheels.
Impey yet clutched his steering wheel and fought off the mob with a strength born of desperation. The two lads were upon their feet, expecting any moment to find themselves attacked by the Japanese, for a mob has no reasoning power, and with it the uniform of an American naval officer would have no significance.
However, there was no time to speculate upon their own dangerous position. Impey’s peril was imminently before their startled eyes. He must be saved, even if in the attempt they drew down the wrath of the mob upon their own heads. They could not see him dragged to death without making an effort in his defense.
“Help me,” Impey cried piteously.
The appeal was not unanswered. The two midshipmen cleared the front seat in a bound, and laid firm hands upon the trembling body of the terrified man.
“Hold him tight, Phil,” Sydney exclaimed as he threw himself upon those who were attempting to drag Impey from his seat. Sydney’s face was determined, only no anger was displayed, and he relied alone upon his strength to break the holds of the mob. The surprised Japanese gave way. They saw the lad’s uniform and the authoritative manner of his movements, not as an enemy but rather as a peacemaker. They withdrew before him, and waited as if making up their minds what to do.
A European, past middle age, suddenly pushed his way to Sydney’s side, just as he had stooped to pick up a long white envelope which had caught his eye as it lay on the ground nearly under the fore wheels of the car.