Information was given out that the Russians were concentrating in the lower Yalu valley, and that here the first great battle might take place. It was necessary for Japan to strike across the Korean peninsula and isolate Port Arthur, cutting the railroad above it if possible. "Larkin," said Starr, meeting the reporter in the street one day early in March, "I've received word that the _Zafiro_ will be at this port to-morrow, and I am ordered back to the _Osprey_. I hate to say good-bye to you, old fellow!" "And I hate to have you," said Fred. "Perhaps you won't have to," he added meaningly. "Oh, yes, of course I must obey orders. I'm on my way now to make my farewell call at the hotel. This evening I'll run in to see you at your lodgings on my way home." But when Bob called, Larkin was not in his lodgings, nor, strange to say, was there any trace left of his ever having occupied the room. No one knew where he had gone. He had paid his bill in full and left the house early in the evening, taking the small bag which constituted all his luggage. With a heavy heart--for various reasons--Bob went on board the _Zafiro_ the next morning, and the little despatch-boat put out to sea. CHAPTER XII. BETWEEN TWO FIRES. "I say, Farmer, can't we have a little target-practice and hit something accidentally--even that Chinese junk over there would do--so as to stir up some sort of a scrap?" Lieutenant Staples, addressing his commander familiarly by the old Academy nickname, yawned and stretched his arms in most undignified fashion as he spoke. The two officers were on the bridge of the _Osprey_, which lay at anchor off Chefoo. A gentle breeze barely stirred the placid waters of the bay, and the sun gave a hint of the torrid days that were to come. "I'm tired of sitting here, like a toad in a puddle, aren't you?" added the tall lieutenant, straightening himself up a little as a boatswain's mate crossed the open deck below him. "There is a kind of a sameness about it," laughed Rexdale, adjusting a pair of field-glasses. "What sort of a craft is that yonder, Tel?" "H'm--something under steam, anyway. Can you make her out through the glass?" "Unless I'm mistaken, it's the _Zafiro_," said the commander, working the glasses for a focus. "Yes, it's the despatch-boat, bringing Starr back from Tokio, no doubt." Ten minutes later Bob scrambled up over the rail, followed by a young man in civilian's clothes. "Fred Larkin!" exclaimed Dave. "How on earth did he get on board the _Zafiro_?" As soon as Midshipman Bob had reported himself, the war correspondent stepped up with a genial smile and shook hands warmly with the officers on the bridge. "Fact is, I'm a stowaway, Dave," said he. "That gay young lieutenant on the gunboat would have put me in irons if it hadn't been for Bob Starr. He's a good fellow and stood by me, when I disclosed myself on the _Zafiro_ about twenty miles out."