"Coppery hair and pansy-brown eyes, a skin like a snowdrift caught blushing, and a mouth like the smile of a red flower! A girl that Romney might have loved, slim and young and thoroughbred--there you have the capital sentence of the Secretary of the American Embassy!" Down the middle of the street came running a boy, bare-legged, bareheaded and scantily clad. A bunch of jangling bells was tied to his girdle, and his hands were full of what looked like small blue hand-bills. DeKay got up quickly. "There's an evening extra," he said. "It's the _Kokumin Shimbun_." He bolted down the steps, stopped the runner and returned with one of the blue sheets. He scanned it rapidly--he was a student of the vernacular. "Nothing especial," he informed them. "Prices in Wall Street are smashing the records. That looks like a clear political horizon, in spite of what the wiseacres have been saying. This visit of the Squadron will prove a useful poultice, no doubt, to reduce international inflammation--its officers being shown the sights of the capital, and the celebrations to come off as per schedule, including the Naval Minister's ball to-morrow night. By the way," he added, turning to Ware, "I arranged for an invitation for you. It's probably at the hotel in Tokyo now, awaiting your arrival." A little gleam came to Ware's eyes. The threads were in his hands, and this suited his plan. "Thanks," he said; "you're very kind, Commander. I shall see the subject of your rhapsody, then, before the Judge puts on his black cap." "Ah, but you'll have no chance," laughed the Baroness. "Trust a woman's eye." "Unless his aëroplane takes a tumble," said the American girl reflectively. "There's always a chance for a tragedy there!" They rose to depart. "We are actually going to the opera, Mr. Ware," said the Baroness; "the 'Popular Hardman Comic Opera Company,' if you please, 'with Miss Cissy Clifford.' Doesn't that sound like Broadway? It comes over every season from Shanghai, and it's our regular spring dissipation. You'd not be tempted to join us, I suppose?" He bowed over her hand. "It is my misfortune to have an engagement here." "Well, then--_jusqu'au bal_. Good night." * * * * * Ware drank his black coffee alone on the terrace. Daunt--a Secretary of Embassy! A rival less experienced than he, full of youth's enthusiasms--a young Romeo, wooing from the garden of officialdom! It had been a handful of days against his own round year; a few meetings, at most, to offset his long and constant plan! And, as a result, the thing he had seen through the car window. He shut his teeth. He would have taken bitter toll of that kiss! As he lit his cigar, one of the hotel boys came to him. On his arrival Ware had sent him to Phil's bungalow on the Bluff with a note. "Ware-_San_ not at home," he said. "Where is he?" "No Yokohama now. He go Tokyo yesterday. Stay one week." "Is he at the hotel there?" "Boy say no hotel. House have got."