The North Pacific. Willis Boyd Allen
shall we reply, sir?"
"Answer: 'Send boat with message – hurry,'" said Dave, frowning. "I don't like to stop, but the message may be important. I suppose it's for me, only the Japanese don't know enough to say so. Slow down, quartermaster."
"Slow, sir." And the indicator swung to that mark.
"Half speed."
"Half speed, sir."
"Now, full stop."
"Full stop, sir," and the engines of the Osprey were still.
The Kiku had taken similar measures, and changing her course, approached to within a hundred rods.
Down came her starboard quarter-boat, with beautiful precision. The oars fell together as the boat left the ship's side, and started toward the Osprey.
A ladder was thrown over, but the Japanese stopped abruptly, backing water when two or three boats' lengths distant, and turning, rowed a slow stroke to keep abreast the gangway of the gunboat, which had not lost her way. The officer in charge rose to his feet and raised his cap courteously.
"You have Japanese on board, sir, name Oto?" he called out.
"Yes, sir. What of it?"
"My captain wish to see him."
Rexdale gave a little start of irritation. "Leave your message for the boy," he shouted. "He's my cabin steward. I can't hold my ship for him to visit you."
While this conversation was in progress, a slight, diminutive figure had glided into the crowd of men overhanging the rail on the deck below. On hearing Rexdale's answer he called out a few rapid words in his own language to the officer in the boat. The latter answered, and the boat lay up alongside. Before any one realized what Oto was about, he had climbed the rail like a monkey and dropped into the strange boat, which immediately headed for the Kiku.
"Here!" shouted Rexdale, angrily, "What are you about? Bring back that boy! He belongs to my ship!"
The Japanese officer half turned in his seat, waved his hat most courteously, and spoke to his men; with the result that they pulled harder than ever.
"Start her!" cried out Rexdale, furious with rage.
"Start her, sir," repeated the phlegmatic quartermaster, throwing over the electric indicator.
"Full speed ahead!"
"Full speed ahead, sir."
"Now port your helm! Look sharp!"
"Port, sir."
But by the time the Osprey had fair steerage-way the stranger, veering in to shorten the distance, had picked up her boat and was pouring volumes of black smoke from her funnels as she too forged ahead. Her bows slowly swung to the northward.
The captain on her bridge waved his hat.
Dave set his teeth hard. "I'd like to send a shot across her bows!" he muttered, glaring at the audacious destroyer which was plainly running away from them. The jackies looked up eagerly at him, with their hands on the breach of the four-inch rifle; not a few fists were shaken at the departing stranger. It was a temptation, but the commander overcame it.
"It won't do to open fire, just for a steward," he said to his subordinates, who were standing at his side with scowling faces. "On her course, quartermaster!"
"On her course, sir. East by south, quarter south."
"It's a regular insult," stormed Liddon, for once shaken out of his regularly calm demeanour. "It's abduction on the high seas! It's piracy, that's what it is!"
"More like the press-gang," said Dobson, laconically.
"Well," said Rexdale, after a pause, "Japan will have to apologise for that little performance when we've reached a cable port."
"Is Oto an American citizen?" enquired Liddon.
"I'm afraid not. I never heard him speak of naturalisation."
"Then I suppose it's hardly an international episode," said the other, recovering his usual dignity of speech. "Perhaps the boy is an escaped criminal. At worst, I'm afraid the captain of the Kiku has only been guilty of bad manners."
"I shall report the incident to the Department at the first opportunity," said the commander decisively. "They can do what they like about it."
But Rexdale did not make the report. The next morning he was waited upon, to his utter bewilderment, by Oto himself, obsequious, deft, and silent as of old!
CHAPTER VI.
A SCRAP IN MALTA
The lieutenant-commander rubbed his eyes and stared at the little brown man in utter amazement.
"Oto!" he exclaimed at length. "You here?"
"Yes, sir," replied Oto, placing a steaming cup of hot coffee at the right hand of the officer.
"Come round here where I can see you. When did you come on board?"
"This morning, sir, at about three bells."
"Who brought you? Did you swim back?" demanded Rexdale, still mystified.
"No, sir. I came in the Kiku's boat," said Oto, showing his white teeth in a genial smile. "There was fog. The Osprey was going at less than half speed, and the lookouts did not see me. We came very quiet."
"Well, what have you got to say for yourself, any way?" asked Dave, irritated at the boy's self-possession. "Do you know I can put you in irons for deserting the ship?"
The little Jap spread his arms, in deprecation. "Very sorry," said he humbly. "It was all mistake. Captain Osara wanted to give me message. He did not wish me to leave ship. All mistake. So I come back. Captain Osara say he apologise. Here his letter," and he handed a sealed missive to the commander, who impatiently tore open the daintily folded sheet. It was covered with Japanese characters.
"Read it to me," said Dave, handing the letter to Oto, who translated as follows:
"To the Honourable
"David Rexdale,
"Commanding U. S. Ship Osprey.
"Am desirous to tender most humble apologies to your august presence for having taken to my ship the man Oto, whom I restore tremblingly to you. Augustly condescend to grant your forgiveness, and accept my joyful congratulation on your august health and the beauty and majesty of your ship.
"Well," said Rexdale, smiling, in spite of his vexation, at the language of the apology, "what was the message?"
But neither threats nor persuasion could induce Oto to divulge the nature of the communication which had been of sufficient importance to take a naval vessel out of her way and to lead her commander to play such a daring trick – for such it evidently was, in spite of his polite phrases – on a United States war-ship. Oshima in his turn was closely questioned, but professed entire ignorance of the matter.
"I've not a particle of doubt," said Rexdale, talking it over with Staples, "that it has some connexion with the strained relations between Russia and Japan. He's a dangerous fellow to have on board, this Oto, with his skill at gunnery, his high-bred manners, and his mysterious disappearances and appearances. When we reach Hongkong I shall dismiss both Japs. They might get us into a heap of trouble."
Staples quite agreed with Dave, and, with a careful record of the episode in the ship's log, the affair was closed.
Two weeks later the Osprey dropped her anchor off the quay in the inner harbour of Valetta, the principal seaport of Malta. Rexdale's first care was to cable his arrival to the Department; next, to mail his report of the voyage; third, to send a long letter to Hallie, his wife, who would be waiting, even more anxiously than the Secretary of the Navy, to hear from him. At the telegraph office he found a dispatch from Washington, ordering him to hold the Osprey at Valetta until further instructions from the Department. He knew that he would need time for coaling, and