“Good!” O’Neil exclaimed. “Then I can tell you at once why we’re here.”
Sago listened quietly while O’Neil told him of the automobile accident to the messenger Oka and the finding of a letter near where the man was injured, but he gave the steward no further information as to its contents.
“What we want to do,” he added, “is to find this man Oka and see if he lost it, for he was on a message from the navy department, and Mr. Perry believes that the officials there were much more annoyed over the loss of something than over the injury to the man.”
Sago’s little almond eyes shone with excitement. “I have heard of it already. Oka lives only a short distance from here, and is a friend of my cousin,” he replied in quaintly pronounced English. “He is hurt badly, but he will not die. My cousin has already been to visit him. The letter he lost was an important one, and he is more sick over that than his wounds. Come, we shall go and pay a call on the injured man,” he added leading the way.
Leaving the house after saying good-bye very ceremoniously to Sago’s friends, the two Americans and the steward entered the carriage and under the latter’s guiding hand soon reached the small wooden cottage where lived the injured messenger.
“I have a gift for him from the young American officers,” O’Neil explained to Sago as they were admitted by a comely Japanese woman.
Oka was lying on his mats in one corner of the small living-room.
“It’s as clean as the quarter-deck,” Marley exclaimed admiringly, glancing critically about the tidy room.
The woman noiselessly glided to her husband’s side, kneeling at his head to tell him who his visitors were.
Over the man’s pale features came an expression of sudden joy as he glanced up at the two American giants, whose huge bulk, for both were over six feet tall, quite filled their part of the tiny room, while a faint voice asked a question.