While the Moonbeam sped toward the city, her five engines roaring out their rhythmic chorus, there was bustle and excitement in Tokio. Another great ship, larger by far than the Graf Zeppelin, was to be the guest of Japan. The city was in gala dress. From the highest official, dignified and unapproachable, down to the tiniest little Geisha girl, chattering behind her fan, the population of Tokio united in a charming spirit of welcome. Every hotel in the city was crowded with tourists, come to see the ship. The veteran Commander of Communications, with Mr. Hammond’s message of acceptance of the entertainments planned by the city officers, proceeded with his elaborate arrangements. Special trains waited at the Tokio station to transport the two thousand invited guests to the naval landing field at Kasumigaura, about forty miles northwest of the city, where an arm of the Pacific forms placid lagoons. Every hour special weather reports were wirelessed to the ship, while six seaplanes were ordered to meet her at sea and escort her in. The great hangar had been cleared for the reception of the visitor, the Japanese ships being transferred to another location. Kasumigaura was not housing an American ship for the first time. It had been used on a previous successful round-the-world flight of three army planes in 1924, but the American aviators had flown in the opposite direction, with a more southerly general course. All Thursday morning a distinguished group of Japanese watched the five hundred bluejackets who comprised the special ground crew as they rehearsed for their coming task. There was the admiral, the minister of the navy, the vice admiral, and, besides, two princes of the reigning house. The ground crew used the largest of the Japanese dirigibles for their maneuvers. The weather was hot, but beautiful and clear. All nature seemed in league to show Japan at its loveliest. At Tokio, as the morning passed, thousands of tireless eyes searched the sky for the first sight of their splendid visitor. Afternoon came, and dragged by, and still the masses of people watched and listened for the siren which was to sound the tidings of her arrival. Newsboys swarmed everywhere, with extras containing the latest reports of the ship’s location. Evening came. Nine o’clock; fifteen minutes past; and then—three long blasts from the city’s sirens sent men, women and children rushing for vantage points. Traffic came spontaneously to an end. She had come; the silver ship, the Moonbeam! Her engines roaring, her silver gray sides gleaming in the searchlights, she appeared suddenly as she dropped through a floor of mist, and hung so low over the city that it was easy to see the passengers crowded at the windows of the cabin. The usual calm of the Japanese disappeared, and wild shouts of “_Banzai!_” rent the air. Handkerchiefs waved madly.