The two midshipmen shook their heads in deep perplexity. This then was what had been learned from the document which Phil had found only to lose it. The midshipmen mutually decided that what they had come to tell the ambassador would better for the present remain unsaid. To convince him that Impey was a double-faced scoundrel after this unsought confidence might be difficult. That must wait a more opportune time. CHAPTER IX MORE DISCOVERIES O’Neil and Marley decided that they had best leave Tokyo for the present. Their uniforms, which had been neat and trim when they arrived, were now in the bright light of morning in a deplorable state, torn and stained with dirt from their struggle in the theatre the night before. “We are certainly hard-looking citizens, Bill,” O’Neil remarked sadly as they rapidly clothed themselves in their tattered remnants, “and a whole day more leave to our credit, too.” Both sailors knew their first duty was to give to the midshipmen the information which they had been directed to get from the injured messenger, and this duty was now all the more urgent, for O’Neil carried within his torn uniform blouse the much sought document itself. He had picked it up on the stage of the theatre. At the hotel they were told that the midshipmen had gone, and believing they had returned to the “Alaska,” they were just in time to catch a fast train for Yokohama. “Bill, how would you like to fight these little Japs, eh? It wasn’t such hard work last night, was it?” O’Neil asked. “No,” Bill answered conditionally. “They had a look in their eyes, though, that wasn’t no way pleasant. It seemed to tell you: ‘Go ahead and down me; there’s lots more anxious to take my place.’” “Right you are, Bill,” O’Neil smiled grimly. “They’re fatalists; it ain’t nothing for them to die, no more than for you to get a tooth pulled. When a man is killed in battle here his family have a big celebration and invite all their friends in to help them.” “Have they got as good ships as ours?” Marley questioned. “Ain’t you ever been on board a Jap battle-ship?” O’Neil asked in surprise. Marley shook his head. “Well, the next time we go ashore we’ll go down to the dockyard at Yokoska. They are mighty perticular, but I reckon we can get tickets through that Jap officer friend of Mr. Perry’s. But mind, Bill, you don’t let your fishy eyes rest too long on anything you see, and leave your kodak on board ship.” Marley’s face wore a disgusted and pained expression. “You know, Jack, that I ain’t none of these long-haired, mushroom sailors with a ‘snap me quick’ over his shoulder.” O’Neil laughed loudly. The idea was amusing. Then he caught sight of a familiar figure, just passing their compartment. “Hello, you old parchment-faced pirate,” he called, and Sago, the Japanese steward, entered bowing and smiling.