“Hold him tight, Phil,” Sydney exclaimed as he threw himself upon those who were attempting to drag Impey from his seat. Sydney’s face was determined, only no anger was displayed, and he relied alone upon his strength to break the holds of the mob. The surprised Japanese gave way. They saw the lad’s uniform and the authoritative manner of his movements, not as an enemy but rather as a peacemaker. They withdrew before him, and waited as if making up their minds what to do. A European, past middle age, suddenly pushed his way to Sydney’s side, just as he had stooped to pick up a long white envelope which had caught his eye as it lay on the ground nearly under the fore wheels of the car. “That’s mine,” the newcomer exclaimed eagerly, snatching it from Sydney’s hand and thrusting it into his pocket. “Can I help you, Mr. Impey?” he asked deferentially. Impey drew him into the car beside him, and then almost collapsed in his arms. Sydney still held the crowd at bay, when he was startled to see it of a sudden surge toward him. A fear came into his heart as he thought of how it would appear for him in uniform to be fighting a Japanese mob. Phil from his position of vantage had understood the movement, and jumped to the ground by his friend’s side just as the crowd parted and two American sailors shot through, bringing up almost in the arms of the midshipmen. CHAPTER IV STIRRING UP TROUBLE “I’d like to have seen the garden fête.” The speaker arose from his seat at a desk, pushed a mass of papers aside and glanced at his watch. “By Jove, it’s nearly over,” he added in some surprise. He put his watch back in his pocket, and took a coat and hat from a peg in the corner. “There’s my stuff on the desk. I am ashamed to be the author of it. “Jim, I think I’ll go around and take a look at these naval officers I’ve been maligning. They’ll be coming away from the party just about the time I get there, and I’ve a card of admission here in my pocket. “Hello! this is your coat. Why on earth don’t you have the lining sewed up? You’ll be losing something out of it before long if you don’t.” George Randall, newspaper correspondent, hung up the other’s coat and took his own, putting it on thoughtfully. “Jim, you haven’t any business sticking to such an uncertain game as this,” he added, a note of sympathy in his voice. “You’ve a family, and ought to be home earning honest money.” The man addressed, probably twenty years older than the speaker, laughed uneasily. “I was attracted by the price, the same as you were, George,” he replied regretfully. “Neither of us understood what would be expected of us, and if we weren’t so hard up we wouldn’t have accepted. But we are in it now, and there’s no turning back.”