But I had ridden into that town on the biggest white horse I ever saw, and I looked like an English field-marshal without his blouse. I had gone to the Japanese headquarters. I had registered my name and the names of my three friends on the hotel-book. I had filled out the blank that is usual for the passing stranger in time of war. I had added information that was not asked for on that blank. I had engaged four rooms, had ordered dinner for four people, and had things to eat and things to drink awaiting for the other three whenever they should come. I had my war-pass in my pocket, which I displayed, and yet this Japanese officer, the second in command at Newchwang and a graduate of Yale, as I learned afterward, woke me up at two o'clock in the morning, and in excellent English put me under arrest as a Russian spy. I was robed only in a blue flannel shirt and a pair of "Bonnie Maginns," but I sprang shamelessly from out that mosquito-netting, and I said things that I am not yet sorry for. Over that scene I will draw the curtain quickly--but just the same, a Japanese soldier sat at my door all through the night. The next morning I heard a great noise, and I saw our entire train in the street below. I called my sentinel to the window and pointed out to him four carts, twelve horses and mules, eight coolies, and eight interpreters and servants, and I asked him if Russian spies were accustomed to travel that way--if they did business with a circus procession and a brass band? He grinned slightly. Half an hour later Davis and I went down to see the Yale graduate, and he apologized. He said graciously that he would remove the guard from my door, and I did not tell him that that intelligent soldier had voluntarily removed himself an hour before. We told him we were very anxious to get back to Yokohama to catch a steamer for home. He said that we probably would not be allowed to go home on a transport, and that even if we had permission we could not, for the reason that no transports were going. "There is none going to-day?" "No." "Nor to-morrow?" "No." "Nor the day after?" "No." We said good-by. Just outside the door we met another Japanese officer who had been sent into Manchuria with a special message from the Emperor, and had been told incidentally to look in on the correspondents. He had looked in on us above Haicheng, and he was apparently trying to do all he could for us. He was quite sure if we saw the Major in Command there, that we should be allowed to go. "Is there a transport going to-day?" I asked. "Yes," he said, "I am taking it myself." I kept my face grave. "And to-morrow?" "Yes." "And the next day?" "Yes." Three of them--all useless--nailed within five minutes from the lips of a brother-officer and within ten steps of the Yale graduate's door! It was to laugh.