The door was locked. The combined effort of the four failed to discover a weakness in the solid wood. The midshipmen gazed wildly about for a means of breaking the lock. Takishima soon solved the difficulty. The policeman, agile as a cat, was scaling the side of the house. Above him was a window through which a light was shining. Breathlessly and impatiently they waited while he climbed slowly upward. Then he disappeared through the window and after a few anxious moments the door was opened and they rushed within, securely locking the door after them. Up the stairs they ran, and then suddenly the full magnitude of the situation burst upon them. A score or more of American sailors had captured the theatre stage and, with clubs and sticks stripped from the scenery, were holding at bay several hundred infuriated Japanese. Phil recognized O’Neil and Marley in the foremost ranks of the defenders, and his heart sank, for he realized that O’Neil would not abet a fight without real provocation. “You go to your men. I’ll hold the crowd in check until the soldiers come,” Takishima exclaimed, as he threw off his cape and stood in full evening uniform, his golden epaulettes glistening brightly and his war medals sparkling on his breast. He walked out fearlessly between the sailors and the clamoring crowd. Phil and Sydney had placed themselves between him and their own men to protect him from a chance blow. “Back, men, all of you. Do you realize what you are doing?” Sydney’s and Phil’s voices were tense with anger and excitement as they pressed the sailors away from their foes. “You, O’Neil, leading this disgraceful row!” Phil cried out accusingly and in tones that at the same time expressed the lad’s bitter disappointment upon seeing the boatswain’s mate involved in what appeared to him to be a disorderly fight against well-intentioned Japanese citizens. “It wasn’t O’Neil, sir, what started it.” Bill Marley’s voice was raised excitedly. “This is what they was dragging on the stage, sir, wiping their clogs on, and the man what carried it wasn’t no Jap. I can take my oath on that. He ‘beat it’ when he seen there was a row on.” The midshipmen opened their eyes in amazement as Marley showed the tattered American flag in the defense of which the American sailors from all over the theatre had collected. “Never mind that now!” Phil waved for silence as several excited voices were raised expressing forcibly the desire to be allowed to clean out the place and revenge the insult to their flag. “Can’t you see by Marley’s evidence that it was fixed up on you?” Phil exclaimed, grasping at a straw. “The man with the flag was not a Japanese. Who was he? A sneaking, cowardly foreigner, anxious to bring about a conflict between you American sailors and the citizens of Japan.” Phil was eloquent in his anger and mortification. “And you, led into the trap like lambs. Aren’t you ashamed of yourselves?”