The midshipmen were brought into the consulate, while O’Neil continued to the landing. He had caught sight of the American sailors marching up the road, and as he was in the landing detail, he feared some one might replace him unless he returned to claim his rights. Commander Tazewell and the consul were on the porch, and the consul’s daughters, looking slightly pale over the exciting news brought by the steam launch, which had arrived an hour earlier, led the newcomers forward to tell their story. “The chief justice gave his decision a very short time after you left town,” Alice told them breathlessly. “The news was taken to Kataafa by a fast canoe. I watched it from my ‘lookout’ until it went inside the reef off Vaileli.” “Kataafa and Klinger must have known it when we saw them, then,” Phil said to Sydney. “Klinger thought we knew it, too; that’s why he gave us the message.” “What was it?” Alice asked eagerly, overhearing Phil’s aside. “To cut loose from the English and join his country in supporting Kataafa,” Phil told her. “He would like to see America disregard the chief justice’s decision.” “That looks as if Klinger and his crowd were worried over the outcome,” Alice said thoughtfully, while the midshipmen nodded their heads in agreement. Mr. Lee seemed very uneasy while Phil as spokesman gave a minute account of their ride to Saluafata. He told of the hostile attitude of the warriors and Klinger’s fears for their safety, and he spoke admiringly of the old high chief Kataafa, who had acted as their personal body-guard until the edge of the town had been reached. Phil also did not hesitate to deliver Klinger’s message which he had haughtily scorned but agreed to repeat to his captain. Commander Tazewell listened gravely, but to outward appearance was unmoved. “Klinger has shown us his game,” he said after Phil had ended. The midshipmen would not accept the invitation to stay longer. They were hungry and dusty after their long ride, and pined for a bath and clean clothes. As they proceeded toward the boat landing, they gazed admiringly at their sailors, pitching tents, erecting shelters and making all arrangement for a protracted stay on shore. Lieutenant Morrison stopped them to hear the news they had brought from the Kataafa camp. The lieutenant was in command of the American sailors landed to protect American lives and property that would be in grave danger when the rebels attacked Ukula. Ensign Patterson, a big raw-boned young man, with a happy, irresponsible disposition, but greatly loved by all for his generous nature and rash fearlessness, was Lieutenant Morrison’s assistant. He waved a joyful greeting from a mass of luggage, the assorting of which he was busily directing. “It certainly looks like business,” Sydney exclaimed as they left the busy scene behind and arrived in sight of the landing, where they found a boat was awaiting them. They did not tarry long on the ship, but were soon again on their way ashore.