“Is Sago in?” O’Neil asked the shy girl who was holding the lantern inside the dark little anteroom, where visitors were expected to remove their shoes before entering the house. She nodded, and in her high-pitched voice a summons was directed upward. “Sorry to drag you out this time of the evening, Sago,” O’Neil explained as, in answer to the girl’s call, the captain’s Japanese steward came down the stairs to meet them, “but we need your help, so I looked you up.” Sago’s sphinx-like face did not portray the surprise which O’Neil’s words might have been expected to cause. “Please come inside,” the steward urged. “I wish to introduce you to my cousin and his family.” O’Neil and Marley readily followed the steward, while curious Japanese of all ages appeared mysteriously from many directions to gaze upon their visitors. Sago motioned with his hand to a Japanese of about his own age, which might be anything from forty upward, standing at the head of the landing. The Oriental bowed low with a loud hiss of his breath through his close shut teeth, while O’Neil and Marley insisted upon a good American hand-shake. The same process was gone through with about a dozen people who congregated about the sailormen. This formality over, the host clapped his hands and at once the women scurried away, like a covey of partridges, soon reappearing with refreshments, the usual cakes and tea. “Do your friends speak English?” O’Neil asked in his usual direct way, avoiding unnecessary and useless ceremony. Sago shook his head with an amused smile. “Good!” O’Neil exclaimed. “Then I can tell you at once why we’re here.” Sago listened quietly while O’Neil told him of the automobile accident to the messenger Oka and the finding of a letter near where the man was injured, but he gave the steward no further information as to its contents. “What we want to do,” he added, “is to find this man Oka and see if he lost it, for he was on a message from the navy department, and Mr. Perry believes that the officials there were much more annoyed over the loss of something than over the injury to the man.” Sago’s little almond eyes shone with excitement. “I have heard of it already. Oka lives only a short distance from here, and is a friend of my cousin,” he replied in quaintly pronounced English. “He is hurt badly, but he will not die. My cousin has already been to visit him. The letter he lost was an important one, and he is more sick over that than his wounds. Come, we shall go and pay a call on the injured man,” he added leading the way. Leaving the house after saying good-bye very ceremoniously to Sago’s friends, the two Americans and the steward entered the carriage and under the latter’s guiding hand soon reached the small wooden cottage where lived the injured messenger. “I have a gift for him from the young American officers,” O’Neil explained to Sago as they were admitted by a comely Japanese woman.