O’Neil laughed loudly. The idea was amusing. Then he caught sight of a familiar figure, just passing their compartment.
“Hello, you old parchment-faced pirate,” he called, and Sago, the Japanese steward, entered bowing and smiling.
“What did you mean by taking us into that hornet’s nest last night?” the sailor continued banteringly. “You might have known my friend Bill here would have ‘started something’; he usually does.”
Marley let the remark go. He was ever a lap or two behind Jack O’Neil in his train of thought.
“Bill, could you recognize again the fellow who carried the flag?” O’Neil suddenly asked. “If we could lay our hands on that gentleman we might find out something useful. Did you hear Mr. Perry tell us that he and the little Jap lieutenant believe it was a fixed up game to start a row with our men?”
“It’s all too mixed for me. I can unmoor ship from an elbow or a cross, but when my cables are all tangled up in knots, then I am done.”
Marley had lapsed into a sailor metaphor indicating that the devious ways of diplomatic intrigue were beyond his simple comprehension.
“Sago, what does your methodical brain tell you is the real game being played here in Japan?” O’Neil directed his eloquence upon the silently complacent steward. “Do these one time countrymen of yours want to annex the United States?”
“No.” Sago was emphatic in his negative. “Japanee very funny, all time want to learn something. American they don’t understand. They think Japanee very curious.”
“Say, Sago,” O’Neil turned on him suddenly, and the little old man started in mild surprise, “suppose we had a war with Japan. What would you do? Skip back here and go in the Jap navy?”