O’Neil was close to Marley; in another step he could have laid hands upon him and carried him, if resistingly, to the box; but unfortunately for this peaceful intention of the boatswain’s mate, one of the Japanese actors was due to pick up the fallen flag and wave it in triumph above his head. His cue had come just as Marley’s hand was reaching out for the staff. Their hands nearly met and then Bill Marley’s doubled up, shot straight from the shoulder, and with terrific force, directly into the surprised actor’s face; he fell to the floor with a very unstagelike thud.
Yet even then the actors seemed blissfully unconscious that anything unusual was happening and it was not until nearly a dozen had gone down under the trip-hammer blows, measuring their length on the stage, that the situation was understood.
“Come away, you blooming idiot!” O’Neil exclaimed, grasping Bill Marley’s collar and dragging him backward, still waving madly the flag he had succeeded in rescuing.
But Bill Marley was in no mood to be led like a lamb by the collar even by his friend O’Neil. His fighting blood was aroused. His slow mind had been deeply outraged by this evident insult to his countrymen. His thoughts were alternating between the vague belief that it was his duty to contend single handed with those on the stage, erasing the impression of a Japanese victory, and that those impersonating American sailors needed only his leadership to turn the tide of battle.
“Come on, you little midgets!” His voice was loud and angry, but the firm twist which O’Neil had given his wide sailor collar nearly stifled the encouraging words that were to follow for the benefit of the vanquished stage foreigners.
“Follow me and we’ll show ’em——” The rest was only a gurgle, for O’Neil had encircled the excited sailor’s neck with a strong arm and had lifted him fairly off his feet.
The next second the boatswain’s mate had let go of his companion and the two were standing at bay against a score of infuriated Japanese, who had suddenly become cognizant of the true conditions.
O’Neil was still dizzy from the effects of a blow on the back of the head, received while he was yet struggling with Marley. Now the usually cool-headed petty officer was white hot with anger and resentment.
“Don’t let them get a hold on you, Bill,” was O’Neil’s warning, hissed through his closed teeth, while his two fists were driving forward like battering-rams.