Dave Darrin on the Asiatic Station. Or, Winning Lieutenants' Commissions on the Admiral's Flagship

“I shall see what Dave says,” murmured Belle, as she turned away from the table.

CHAPTER XVII – DAVE FACES THE HUMAN TEMPEST

Lieutenant Katura stood in the long counting-room of the Okugawa Bank, a film of despair over his eyes, while Toruma and Hata, their words exhausted, looked on helplessly. Just then a young man, perhaps an American, well-dressed, keen, hustling and alert, bustled up to them.

“Will you pardon my addressing you?” he asked. “I was at the American Club, and from the look on your face, sir, I fear that you may have been made the butt of too rough a piece of work.”

“What do you mean, sir?” hastily asked Lieutenant Toruma, for Katura seemed incapable of speaking.

“Why, I saw you three on your way out through the crush around the coat room,” explained the stranger. “With you was one of my countrymen, I should judge.”

“An American, yes,” Toruma nodded.

“I saw him play a little trick on your friend here,” nodding at Katura. “At the time I did not think much about it, and I might have forgotten it, had not business brought me here. But my first look at you made me feel certain that something was wrong.”

“Something is wrong,” replied Lieutenant Toruma quickly. “But what was it that you saw near the coat room of the American Club?”

“I saw my countryman slip his hand in one of your pockets, sir,” continued the stranger, addressing Katura. “He took out some small object – a lacquer box, I should say, but I cannot be sure.”

“It was a lacquer box!” cried Katura, a fierce light leaping to his eyes, while his face, first paling, next turned to a deep red hue. “It is a lacquer box that I have just missed.”

“And Mr. Darrin remarked that he felt much tempted to steal it,” broke in Lieutenant Hata.

“Be still, Hata, please,” begged Katura, recovering his own dignity. “Mr. Darrin is an American officer and a gentleman, not a thief!”

“I trust I haven’t intruded, and that I haven’t made any trouble,” the stranger went on, hastily, “but you appeared to me to be in so much trouble that, as a gentleman, I felt I must speak to you.”

“And I thank you from the bottom of my heart, sir!” cried Katura, his eyes once more gleaming fiercely, despite the gentleness of his words.

“It was probably all a joke,” the stranger smiled, “but I am glad if I have been able to save you from any anguish of mind. Of course you will see my countryman – Barron, did you say his name is? I know that I may rely upon you all not to bring me into the matter.”

“You may depend upon us for the courtesy that is due to one gentleman from others,” promised Lieutenant Toruma.

Then, as their informant left them, the three Japanese held swift, sorrowful conference.

“Of course we must go to the hotel at once and see Mr. Darrin,” proposed Toruma.

“I feel that it will be necessary,” bowed Katura. “But let none of my friends suspect that it was more than a joke. An American officer and gentleman could not be an intentional thief.”

“Even as a joke it was in very, very bad taste,” declared Lieutenant Hata slowly and gravely.

“Say not so,” urged Katura. “Let us say nothing, and suspect or accuse no gentleman.”

“But let us go to the Imperial Hotel as fast as possible,” urged Lieutenant Toruma.

“By all means,” agreed Hata.

So Katura, who was sorrowful and dazed, felt thankful that he had loyal friends with him to do his thinking for him at this moment.

Not many minutes were needed for reaching the Imperial. Three little Japanese officers, with smiling faces, entered and went to the desk in the hotel office.

“We desire to see Mr. Darrin of the American Navy,” declared Toruma, speaking in Japanese to the clerk, who was a fellow-countryman.

“I regret much to say that Mr. Darrin is out,” replied the clerk.

“Then may we do ourselves the honor of waiting until your guest returns?” asked Hata.

“Officers of his majesty the Emperor will confer distinction upon this poor hotel by deigning to wait,” replied the clerk.

So the three Japanese officers walked into a parlor, where they took seats, knowing that they would be notified when Ensign Darrin reappeared at the hotel.

At about this time, Belle, who had been absent from her rooms for a few moments, was looking diligently for the note that had accompanied the lacquer box.

“I closed and locked the door when I went out, so I can’t understand what has happened to that note,” mused Belle Darrin perplexedly, as she hunted about the room.

The medallion itself still lay on the table, but to that the young wife now paid no heed.

So much did the disappearance of the note perplex her that Belle spent some minutes in the vain search for it.

At last, a perplexed frown on her face, she again picked up the lacquer box and stood gazing at the exquisite, precious medallion.

Below, Dave entered the hotel. He passed quickly through, going to the stairs.

Not immediately did he go to his apartment. First of all he turned down a corridor on the second floor to speak to Lieutenant Barbes from the “Katahdin.”

But the clerk, who saw Dave pass through the lobby, himself stepped into the parlor where the three Japanese lieutenants waited. Bowing very low, the clerk informed them that Mr. Darrin had returned and had gone to his apartment.

“The number of that apartment?” cried Toruma.

The clerk gave the number, forgetting to add that Mrs. Darrin was also there. Nor did the Japanese officers remember that Dave was married.

So, Toruma leading the way, the three filed up the stairs, sought the apartment, and knocked on the door.

Inside, Belle, the lacquer box in her hand, and supposing that it was a servant who had knocked, stepped over to open the door.

And there she stood in the doorway, the lacquer box in her hand, the medallion plainly showing.

The eyes of the three young officers immediately turned toward that priceless heirloom, not a betraying sign came to their faces.

“A thousand pardons, madam,” begged Toruma. “We have knocked at the wrong door. We sought the apartment of Mr. Darrin.”

“Then you have found the right door,” smiled Belle. “I am Mrs. Darrin. Unfortunately, my husband is out.”

“We were wrongly informed that he had returned,” apologized Toruma, bowing low. “We crave a thousand pardons, and hasten to withdraw.”

“Shall I tell Mr. Darrin who called?” asked Belle.

“We shall do ourselves the honor to see Mr. Darrin soon after he returns,” replied Lieutenant Toruma sweetly, in a voice in which there was no suspicion of menace.

“Who asks for me, gentlemen?” hailed a merry voice, as Ensign Dave Darrin rounded a turn in the corridor, and came upon the party. “Toruma? Katura? Hata? This is a pleasure.”

“We shall go to the main parlor below,” said Toruma courteously, taking the hand that Dave extended, as did the others. “May we hope to see you there, sir, at your own convenience?”

“I will be down inside of five minutes,” Dave promised lightly, and the Japanese bowed themselves away.

Unconsciously Belle had thrown behind her the hand that held the lacquer box. For that reason Dave did not see it until he had stepped inside and had closed the door after him.

Then, of a sudden, young Mrs. Darrin remembered her surprise, and held forward the box in such a way as to display the medallion lying in it.

“I have something strange, Dave dear, to tell you about this,” she announced.

With an astonished cry Dave caught up the box.

“Why it is – it must be – the heirloom that Katura showed me at the American Club this morning,” he uttered.

“Mr. Katura’s?” echoed Belle.

“Yes. And so he came here and offered it to you? Belle, my dear, we cannot accept such – ”

“Oh, do you think it could have been Mr. Katura who sent it to me?” the young wife asked.

“Sent it to you? Don’t you know who gave it to you?” Ensign Darrin asked, in amazement. “Didn’t he hand it to you just now?”

“Oh, no, indeed!” Belle exclaimed. “Listen, Dave.”

Thereupon Mrs. Darrin related all she knew of the matter. She and Dave spent some minutes together in hunting for the strange note, which could not be found.

“No use in looking any further,” Darrin declared, at last. “Besides Katura is waiting for me below. I will take this medallion back to him. Certainly he can clear up the matter for me.”

Full of uprightness of purpose Dave Darrin started below, to face a storm that was certain to be past his comprehension.

CHAPTER XVIII – MR. KATURA DOES SOME ASTOUNDING

“Katura, my dear fellow, I’m immensely sorry to have kept you waiting,” cried Dave genially, as he entered the parlor. His nod took in Toruma and Hata as well.

“The waiting has not been tiresome,” replied Katura coldly, rising to his feet, as did his comrades in arms.

“And now, Katura,” Dave went on, “I am going to ask you if you can clear up the mystery as to how this medallion, this magnificent heirloom of yours, fell into Mrs. Darrin’s hands.”

“I came to see if you could account for that,” replied the little lieutenant coldly, though his face still wore a smile.

“Why, what do you mean?” asked Dave. “All I know is that, upon my return, I found that Mrs. Darrin had been presented, under very strange circumstances, with this medallion, which I instantly recognized as yours.”

“I saw it in her hand when she opened the door to us,” Katura answered. “Beyond that, about all that I know, Mr. Darrin, is that, upon my arrival at the Okugawa Bank, I found the box missing from the pocket in which I had placed it.”

“Then it was not you who sent this box and its contents to Mrs. Darrin?” the American ensign demanded.

“I did not send it to her,” Katura rejoined.

“Then how did she come to receive it?”

“That is what I have come to ask you, Mr. Darrin,” returned the little infantry lieutenant.

“What do you mean?” asked Dave, coloring slightly, for, despite the smiles on the three Japanese faces, there was something accusing in their manners.

“How did this box happen to reach your wife?” asked Lieutenant Hata, gravely.

Dave frankly related the circumstances as told him by his wife.

“If we could see the note, that might throw some light on the matter,” suggested Lieutenant Hata, darkly.

“That is the curious part of it, gentlemen,” said Dave, gravely. “Soon after the gift came that note disappeared, and neither Mrs. Darrin nor I have been able to find any trace of it.”

“That is certainly remarkable,” said Hata, with emphasis.

“Very remarkable,” agreed Toruma.

“So remarkable,” added Katura, “that I cannot comprehend it at all.”

“At any rate, before I leave Tokio,” proposed Darrin, “I shall hope to have the whole matter cleared up.”

For the second time Lieutenant Katura’s face flushed a fiery red. He could not help feeling that he was being lightly or insolently used. In his own mind the Japanese was not prepared to suspect an American officer and gentleman of deliberate theft.

“Mr. Darrin,” asked Katura, “is this your idea of a really clever joke?”

“What do you mean, sir?” demanded Dave Darrin, flushing in turn.

“Can you realize, sir, how I must have felt,” the little lieutenant went on, “when my mother permitted me to take this medallion from the bank vault to show it to American friends, and then I returned to the bank to find that the heirloom was missing from my pocket?”

“I have told you all that I know about the matter,” Ensign Dave insisted with dignity. “Is that not enough?”

“No, sir, it is not!” replied Lieutenant Katura, firmly. “I trust you will pardon me when I say that it was all a very stupid joke!”

“Joke?” gasped Dave. “Do you mean – ”

He paused, unwilling to finish the sentence, for it seemed to him that this angry little Japanese had suddenly thrown a doubt around Mrs. Darrin’s word.

“You have no further explanation to offer me?” asked Katura frigidly.

“There is no other explanation to be offered, sir,” Dave Darrin returned, with equal stiffness.

“Then I am sorry, but I have to do – this!”

Advancing a step or two, Lieutenant Katura landed the flat of his right hand across the cheek of the American ensign.

Swifter than a flash Ensign Darrin returned the insult in the same manner.

“That is enough of this, between gentlemen,” exclaimed Lieutenant Toruma, leaping between the two angry young officers. Hata followed, saying:

“Quite enough!”

“The rest,” remarked Toruma, “can be settled in a much different fashion.”

Dave cooled down a bit, realizing that he had sustained himself by returning the insult in the same form in which it had been delivered. Unless he were struck again he did not propose to discredit himself by brawling in the parlor of a hotel.

Katura, after a moment of sullenness, flashed at Toruma a look that the latter quite understood.

“Have you any idea, Mr. Darrin,” Toruma asked, “when I shall be fortunate enough to find Mr. Dalzell in?”

“Probably at about five-thirty,” Dave answered. “He will wish to dress, and we dine at six.”

“Then we will do ourselves the honor of wishing you good afternoon,” said Hata, bowing low. In another moment the three Japanese had left the room.

“Well, of all the odd experiences!” muttered Ensign Darrin, frowning. After a moment or two he left the parlor, going direct to his apartment.

“Was it Mr. Katura who sent me that medallion?” asked Belle, at once.

“He says not,” Dave answered.

“Then who – ”

“Belle, dear, do you mind letting me think this little puzzle out in silence?” begged Dave.

For a long time he sat silent. At last he told Belle what had happened below.

“But why should Mr. Katura strike you?” asked Belle, her eyes flashing.

“That is what I cannot understand,” Dave rejoined, in a hurt tone. “I have looked upon Katura as a fine little fellow, and I imagine him to be the soul of honor.”

“Does he doubt your word, then, about the manner in which the medallion came into our possession?” Belle quizzed.

“He had better not,” her young husband retorted. “I would not be patient under an insinuation that my word is doubted. Belle, I cannot explain any single part of the matter.”

So the pair talked it over for a long time, but no point in the tangle became a whit clearer.

Late in the afternoon there came a knock at the door.

“Come in,” called Dave.

“Hullo! There you are,” cried Danny Grin, opening the door a little and showing his head. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Darrin. Dave, old fellow, have you time to favor me with just a little visit in my room?”

“Why, certainly,” assented Darrin, rising at once, for there was suppressed excitement in Dalzell’s voice.

Dan, however, remained silent until he had led the way down the corridor and had closed the door of his room on the chums.

“Now, Dave,” gasped the other young ensign, “what is all this about?”

“What is what about?” parried Dave.

“Why,” Danny rattled on, “there is some yarn about Katura’s medallion having come into your possession. You and Katura had some words in the parlor, and he struck you in the face.”

“And I promptly returned the blow in kind,” Darrin responded.

“Exactly,” nodded Dalzell. “That appears to have been the start that is to lead up to something very pretty. When I came in I found Toruma and Hata awaiting me. They told me that Katura had sent them to see me, or any other friend or friends who you may prefer, to arrange for a meeting at which the memory of the blows exchanged should be wiped out. In plain words, David, little giant, you are challenged to fight a duel with Lieutenant Katura.”

“A duel?” echoed Dave Darrin, aghast. “That’s a joke!”

“If it is,” retorted Danny Grin, dryly, “then please help me to find out the point at which I am to laugh.”

“But I have sworn to uphold the laws of the United States and to obey the regulations of the United States Navy,” Dave continued, “and dueling is against the regulations.”

“It looks,” returned Dan, soberly, “as though you would have to fight, or ‘lose face.’”

“And if I engage in a duel,” Dave retorted, “I have perjured myself, for I shall have broken the regulations that I am sworn to obey.”

“Well, then,” Dan inquired, “what are you going to do? Go back aboard the ‘Katahdin’ and forego all shore leave as long as we are in Japanese waters? But, for that matter, would naval officers of any foreign service respect you anywhere in the world? For the officers of most navies still fight duels at need, and the Japanese officers would be likely to snub you, in every foreign port, for what they would consider your ‘shame.’”

“But on what basis am I expected to fight?” Dave demanded. “Because I answered Katura’s blow on the face?”

“I suppose that is the pretended reason,” Dalzell answered, gravely. “Of course every one familiar with dueling will know that some deeper cause exists.”

“It must be the inexplicable matter of the medallion that makes Katura so anxious to slit my windpipe with a sword, or drive a bullet through my breast,” Dave went on. “I must tell you, Dan, all that I know about this wretched matter of the medallion.”

Danny Grin’s eyes opened wider and wider as he heard the tale.

“That’s the story,” nodded Dalzell vigorously, when he had heard it all. “I understand now. Katura can’t think that you stole the medallion. That would be altogether contrary to the nature of an officer and a gentleman. But he figures that you took the medallion from him as a joke, and when he realizes that you, in turn, might have lost it, and thinks of the anguish of his mother, who owns the medallion, then Katura’s blood is up, and he must fight you. Hence, he gave you the blow in the face, which you returned. Therefore, according to the ideals of the duello, you owe him a meeting on the field of honor.”

“That field of honor will have grown into a forest, if he waits until I meet him there,” Dave declared firmly.

“Then you simply won’t fight a duel.”

“I shall not!”

“What grounds shall I give for your refusal?”

“Simply tell Katura’s seconds that duelling is against the United States Naval Regulations, which I have sworn to obey and uphold. Tell Mr. Katura’s seconds that I decline, on any pretext, to break the regulations knowingly.”

“Whew!” whistled Danny Grin. “The Japanese smile is historic, and a thing of beauty, but I can see the assortment of Japanese smiles that will greet any such reply on my part. I shall get a regular Japanese horse laugh!”

“Then when you meet Toruma and Hata, cut the interview as short as you can,” Dave suggested, “and get it over with. But make it as plain as you know how that I simply won’t fight a duel.”

“Oh, I can make it plain enough, and they will believe me in a minute – no trouble about that,” Dan murmured as he rose. “But they will decline to believe in your lofty ideas of right and wrong, and will set it all down to plain American cowardice.”

“I am sorry to impose any such errand upon you, Danny boy,” sighed Dave. “But I will go with you, and speak for myself.”

“Oh, that wouldn’t do at all,” protested Dan, aghast. “In dueling the principal never goes to meet the other chap’s seconds. His own second must do that for him.”

“But there isn’t going to be any duel,” smiled Dave, “and I am not a principal, nor are you my second. You are my friend, and the best in the world, but you will never be my second.”

“There’s going to be the dickens of a mix-up,” grunted Dalzell, as, after wringing Darrin’s hand, he moved toward the door. “I’ll do the best I can, but you must expect, after declining a duel, to be snubbed everywhere in Tokio.”

“Then I shall endeavor to set Tokio an example in calmness,” smiled Dave again. But the instant that the door had closed on him, and he strolled down the hallway, a thoughtful frown came to his face.

In the meantime Dan Dalzell was hastening below, on a by no means pleasant mission.

Just now Dave did not want to go back to Belle, for fear she might question him. After a turn or two he went back to Dalzell’s room.

Half an hour later, growing impatient, Dave decided to go below and to address Toruma and Hata himself.

Down in the lobby Ensign Dave beheld Lieutenants Toruma and Hata, talking with two men who looked like Englishmen.

“Dan must have finished his part,” thought Dave. “I’ll see if I can draw Toruma aside.”

Just as Dave Darrin approached the group Toruma caught sight of him.

Some low-voiced remark ran through the group.

“May I have a word with you, Mr. Toruma, at your convenience?” Dave inquired.

There was no reply. The two Japanese and the English pair merely wheeled about abruptly, turning their backs upon him.

CHAPTER XIX – DAN FIRES A WARM SHOT

Flushing slightly, though with no other outward sign, Dave turned upon his heel and left the group.

“I can understand the attitude of the Japanese officers, but why should Englishmen turn against me?” Dave wondered. “The average Englishman has no more patience with silly dueling than we Americans have.”

It would have done Dave’s heart good, just then, had he known how Danny Grin had met and talked to the two Japanese seconds.

On hearing that Ensign Darrin would not, under any circumstances, consent to a duel, Toruma and Hata had smiled as genially as Dan had expected they would do.

“I don’t know,” pursued Dan, “whether you can understand the feelings that prompt an officer to decline a duel.”

“The reason that comes most quickly to mind,” replied Toruma, “is the feeling of fear.”

“Gentlemen, if you think that my friend, Darrin, is afraid of anything that is honorable, then you are poor judges of human nature,” Dan replied, with some warmth.

“But why should a naval man hesitate to accept the appeal to arms?” inquired Toruma, with another smile.

“Darrin, to my positive knowledge, never did meet any call to arms with anything except calm joy,” Dalzell replied warmly. “In this present instance, if one of Mr. Darrin’s superior officers gave him an order to meet Mr. Katura on the field of honor, Darrin would be there ahead of time. But Mr. Darrin took the oath of the service, binding him to obey the Navy regulations, and one of those regulations expressly forbids him to fight duels, or to take any part in one.”

“What shall we tell Mr. Katura?” pressed Hata darkly.

“Tell him anything you please,” offered Danny Grin obligingly.

“But he will feel at once, as we do, that Mr. Darrin declines the meeting because Mr. Darrin has not the valor to meet a resolute man on the field of honor.”

Danny Grin looked thoughtful for a minute. Then he glanced up to ask:

“How much actual military service, under fire, have you seen, Mr. Toruma?”

“It has not, as yet, been my good fortune to see any,” replied Lieutenant Toruma.

“And you, Mr. Hata, may I inquire what is the extent of your service?”

“I have been as unfortunate in that respect as my friend, Toruma,” replied Hata.

“Mr. Katura must have seen some active, hard service,” pressed Danny Grin.

“Alas, no,” Toruma answered, “Mr. Katura has not been any more fortunate than have we.”

“Darrin has seen some service,” Danny Grin went on calmly. “He was commended in orders for gallant and daring work when the Navy took Vera Cruz. Then, down in Vengara, in South America, in a revolution, he went, with one companion, into the wilds of Vengara to visit the camp of the former dictator, Benedito, who had an army behind him, fighting the government of Vengara. With the help of only that one companion, Darrin, in the heart of Benedito’s own army, took the ex-dictator captive, at the point of a revolver, and brought him through the forests, through the government lines as well, and turned General Benedito over to the United States forces.”

“That was a splendid deed,” bowed Toruma.

“Have you heard of the recent conduct of our Navy at Nu-ping, China?” Dan asked.

“Oh, yes,” nodded Toruma. “That was an excellently managed affair, and one highly creditable to your Navy.”

“The officer who was in command at Nu-ping,” continued Dalzell, “was David Darrin, Ensign, United States Navy.”

“He did a splendid act,” admitted Lieutenant Toruma, bowing.

“And now,” added Lieutenant Hata, “he impresses others as being afraid to meet a gentleman on the field of honor!”