In due time the liner arrived at Yokohama, but the mails that had been forwarded overland from Nagasaki reached there a day before her. Thus it came about that when the Ambassador’s baggage was franked through the Custom House and sent up to the Imperial Hotel at Tokio, two friends of Messrs. Krebs and Vogel were installed as guests at the last-named establishment. Thus also it came about that, thanks to ten yen well spent on a porter, the Ambassador’s trunk, No. 23, was whisked away to the nether cellars of the hotel the moment it arrived there, and--as the Ambassador himself did at an earlier stage--it virtually passes out of this story. That is to say, what must have been the ghost of the Ambassador’s trunk vanishes from mortal view; but not so the real article. When the diplomat’s baggage was supposed to be all in, and a count was taken, trunk No. 23 was found to be missing. The row that ensued was something awful. Telegraphs and telephones were called into requisition, and imperative, not to say drastic, orders were dispatched to the Customs authorities at Yokohama, to the railway authorities at Shimbashi, and to all other authorities everywhere, commanding them to instantly produce his Excellency’s missing trunk. [Illustration: “THEY HAD PASSED IT AND FORWARDED IT, AND GOT A RECEIPT FOR IT.”] The Customs authorities declared they had not got the trunk; they had passed it and forwarded it, and got a receipt for it. There could be no doubt, from their point of view, that the Ambassador had taken delivery of his trunk No. 23. The railway authorities were equally agreed on the same point. The baggage was all in special carriages; not a pin could have been lost between Yokohama and the Shimbashi station at the capital, whence it had been handed over to his Excellency’s servants for removal to the hotel. The police authorities were equally certain that there had been no hanky-panky business of any kind. It would have been impossible for one of the Ambassador’s trunks to go astray or be stolen, either in the streets of the seaport or in the capital itself. The steamship authorities had a receipt for every article. They knew the Ambassador’s trunks, and especial care had been taken of them throughout the voyage. Nevertheless, they would again investigate. Then, Banzai! there came a telegram from the chief purser of the liner:-- “_Ambassador’s trunk No. 23 found on board. Must have been left behind inadvertently. Forwarding to Tokio at once._” The little Custom House inspectors looked at the newly-found trunk in utter stupefaction. “Truly,” said they, “we passed this identical trunk not three hours ago.” “_Hayako!_” (Hurry, there!) shouted the head inspector, as they dallied over the mystery. “His Excellency waits!” [Illustration: “THE LITTLE CUSTOM HOUSE INSPECTORS LOOKED AT THE NEWLY-FOUND TRUNK IN UTTER STUPEFACTION.”] The trunk was expressed up to the Imperial Hotel by special train.