Dave Darrin on the Asiatic Station. Or, Winning Lieutenants' Commissions on the Admiral's Flagship

CHAPTER XVI – THE MEDALLION MYSTERY

“Hullo, Darrin; come over here just a moment. I want you to see something that is rather unusual, even in Japan.”

Two young men, who had just entered the American Club in Tokio, turned when this hail to one of them was heard.

The hail came from a group in which sat four Americans, one Englishman and three young Japanese. The latter three were in the uniforms of lieutenants of the Emperor’s infantry.

“Come over with me, Dan,” urged Dave in a low voice, as Dalzell held back slightly.

“I wasn’t invited,” murmured Dan.

“You simpleton, that’s because Carter doesn’t know you. I can introduce you, and that will set you straight.”

“How are you, Carter?” asked Dave, as he went straight up to the young man who had hailed him and held out his hand. “I wish to introduce my friend, Mr. Dalzell, same service and same ship.” In turn Dave and Dan were presented to all in the group.

The American naval officers wore blue civilian suits. Carter belonged to the diplomatic service, and was now stationed in Tokio. Dave had first met him in Washington. One of the other Americans was in business in Tokio, and the other two were tourists.

“Mr. Katura was showing us something so wonderful,” Carter explained, “that I asked his permission to call you over to see it. Will you show that wonderful medallion again, Katura?”

The little lieutenant, who appeared to be very shy and diffident, flushed slightly as he bowed. Then, from an inner pocket, he drew out a small lacquer box, from which he took out and passed to Dave a filigree gold plate on which appeared the delicately tinted face of a beautiful Japanese woman.

“I never saw anything so wonderfully exquisite,” gasped Darrin, in genuine admiration. “I didn’t know that such beautiful work could be done.”

“No one in Japan could do it to-day,” spoke up another of the Japanese officers, Toruma by name. “That medallion comes from the most brilliant period of Satsuma art.”

In that face the paler flesh tints had been laid, with wonderful minuteness of detail, from flawless mother of pearl. The hair, which stood out in life-like accuracy, had been worked in some highly polished blue-black stone. The teeth, as they showed in the parted lips of that tiny miniature, were real seed pearls, worked in the exact shapes of the teeth represented.

The most striking feature of all was the beautiful red lips of the tiny mouth. This red had been laid in fine rubies, not showing separately, but blended delightfully.

For fully two minutes Darrin gazed at the miniature face, fascinated with the beauty of the thing. Dan, standing by, admired it also.

“Now, try the effect of this magnifying glass on the face,” suggested Carter.

“It would be almost wicked to hold a magnifying glass over such a treasure,” protested Ensign Dave, recoiling slightly, as though from a profanation of an art treasure.

“Try the glass; don’t be afraid,” said Carter.

So Dave took the glass, focusing it over the wonderful medallion. A cry of wonder escaped the young ensign’s lips.

“Can you find the slightest appearance of roughness under the glass?” asked the American diplomat.

“I cannot,” Dave confessed.

“Think of the wonderful work of the artist,” suggested Toruma, “who, in an age when magnifying glasses were unknown, could join all the parts of that inlaying so perfectly.”

“It is wonderful,” murmured Dave. “The artist’s eyes must have been as keen as any magnifying lens.”

For some minutes more Darrin examined the medallion, both with the glass and without. The Japanese, smiling and affable, stood enjoying his very evident pleasure. Their hearts warmed to a foreigner who could feel such real appreciation of the marvels of the ancient art of their country.

“Here, I am afraid that you had better take this from me,” begged Darrin laughingly, at last. “If it is much longer in my possession I shall be under a temptation to commit grand larceny.”

Smiling, Lieutenant Katura held out his hand to receive the treasure.

“It has been in our family for at least six hundred years,” he explained proudly, though without any sign of boastfulness. “It belongs to my mother.”

“I should think you would be afraid of its being stolen,” suggested Dave.

“Ordinarily it is kept in the Okugawa Bank, in our family vault,” explained the little lieutenant. “Once Mr. Carter saw the medallion, at our home, and to-day he begged me to bring it here to show to some of his friends. I am glad to have been honored with an opportunity to give you pleasure by the sight of it.”

“But surely you don’t carry such a treasure loosely in your pocket like that,” Dave almost protested.

“Why not?” smiled Katura.

“Are you not afraid of its being stolen?” Darrin went on.

“Not likely,” declared the little lieutenant. “I am able to defend myself, and I shall have my friends with me on my trip back to the Okugawa Bank.”

“But pickpockets might brush against you in a crowd, and take it from you,” Dave hinted.

“They will not have that chance,” smiled Katura. “From here to the bank my friends and I will go in jinrikishas.”

As the tiffin (luncheon) hour drew near, the club rooms began to fill. There were, perhaps, a hundred newcomers.

“You’ll come to our table, Darrin?” asked Mr. Carter.

“I thank you, and under any other circumstances I would,” Dave answered. “My wife will be expecting me at the hotel. She and I have not had many opportunities to lunch together since I entered the service. So I shall have to be going along soon.”

“You’ll stay, Dalzell?” asked the diplomat.

Dan decided that he would. The Japanese officers were invited to remain, but replied that they had duties claiming their attention.

So Dave left with Lieutenants Katura, Toruma and Hata. In the main corridor these departing ones found themselves somewhat delayed, owing to the press of the crowd about one of the coat-rooms.

At last they got through. A Japanese attendant, saluting the three officers of his own country, ran nimbly to the end of the porch, striking his hands together and summoning three jinrikisha men, who raced up to the steps.

“Farewell, for an hour or two, at least, American brother in arms,” cried Toruma, the most talkative of the three Japanese. Friendly salutes were exchanged, and the Japanese trio were rushed away.

Dave’s jinrikisha came around. In appearance it was an exaggerated baby-carriage, with shafts, between which a stout Japanese coolie played the part of a horse.

These curious little street vehicles are comfortable, and the seasoned coolie in the shafts often displays great speed. The slowest he is allowed to travel on short journeys, when he has a fare in his ’riksha, is five miles an hour.

“To the Imperial Hotel,” said Dave briefly. That was all that was needed. The human “horse” in the shafts would do the rest.

In a few minutes Dave arrived at the big, handsome Imperial Hotel. This hostelry, famous among travelers in the East, is an imposing white pile, built originally by the Japanese government, that travelers might be sure of having a stopping place as comfortable as any in the lands from which they came. Bit by bit the management bought over the government’s interest in the hotel, until now it is privately owned, though the pride of the Japanese is such that the government still supervises the hotel, and sees to it that the high standard is kept up.

As Dave Darrin entered he passed into one of the parlors at the entrance. Belle rose and came forward, a glad little cry on her lips.

“How thankful I am that I thought of coming to Yokohama!” she cried. “It was but a step to Tokio. And you are punctual.”

“It is one of the virtues – or vices – of an officer and a gentleman,” Darrin laughed, as he bent over to kiss her.

“And now are you ready for tiffin, dear?”

“I shall be as soon as I have made my toilet,” Dave replied. “May I have your indulgence that long?”

“Certainly.”

Going below Ensign Darrin washed off the dust of his forenoon’s wanderings, smoothed back his hair, and with a final look in the glass drew on his coat and started above.

Dave was now in about the middle of a three-weeks’ leave, which Dalzell had taken at the same time. In the Navy service an officer does not have, regularly, one day in every seven on which he is free from toil. He is on duty, day and night, seven days a week. By way of leisure he is allowed a certain portion of every month, when practicable, in the way of “leave.” When an officer has no especial use for leave, he often allows it to accumulate, and then later on secures a long enough leave to use up his privileges in the way of absence from duty. So Dave was now on a three-weeks’ leave – a “vacation” it would be called in civil life.

Several other officers from the “Katahdin” were in either Yokohama or Tokio. The former city, only a few miles from the latter, is the port of entry for the Japanese capital. In the harbor at Yokohama the American flagship now lay.

Up to the present Darrin had devoted most of his waking time to escorting Belle through the bewildering Japanese shops, to Uyeno Park, to the Japanese theatres, to the famous temples, and all the other sights that attract tourists.

But this forenoon Darrin had spent in going about Tokio, meeting a few of the people whom he had known in other parts of the world. There was Lieutenant Anstey, one of Dick Prescott’s West Point chums, now on duty at the American Embassy; there were naval officers, and two or three men in the diplomatic service. Dave had even called at the Japanese Navy Department to shake hands with two Japanese officers whom he had met in Europe. These latter two were absent, and Dave, leaving cards, had promised to return in the afternoon.

“You are going to be busy this afternoon?” Belle asked as they sat at tiffin.

“I shall have to make two or three calls, but I shall come back to you as early as I can.”

Two or three times it was on the tip of Darrin’s tongue to tell his wife of the wonderful medallion he had seen that morning. In each case some remark or question of Mrs. Darrin’s had prevented.

In the meantime, Lieutenant Katura, on entering the Okugawa Bank, had made an amazing and frightful discovery. The lacquer box, containing the priceless Satsuma medallion, was not in any of his pockets! The young lieutenant’s grief was most frantic. In vain Toruma and Hata tried to comfort him.

An hour after Ensign Darrin had left the Imperial Hotel, on his way to the Navy Department and elsewhere, Belle Darrin, going up to their rooms, found a little package and a note lying on a table in the middle of their parlor.

Scenting some loving surprise from her husband, Belle, womanlike, opened the package first, disclosing a small lacquer box. In the box she found the same medallion that had so fascinated her young husband that forenoon.

“Oh, oh, oh!” cried the delighted girl, in as many notes of happiness.

Then, still eager, she laid down the medallion and tore open the envelope. On a sheet of heavy paper she read:

“Dear Mrs. Darrin: This comes to your hand from one who is a stranger to you, but who is a most devoted friend of your husband. He has admired the pretty trinket which comes with this note, and I know that he had it in mind that he would dearly love to hand it to you. I am taking the liberty, as your husband’s friend, of pleasing Ensign Darrin, the dearest fellow in the world. But I am going to ask of you a very unusual favor. Fearing that your husband might have the extreme delicacy to insist upon returning this bauble, I am going to ask you not to mention receipt of it until to-morrow. By that time the sender, as your husband will know, will be too far away for the immediate return of this trifle. By the time that he can communicate with me again I trust that he will have agreed to give me the great pleasure of making him happier through the knowledge that his wife possesses a treasure that I know he wished to secure for her.

With every best assurance,

(Signed) X. Polemkin.”

This strange note dropped from Belle’s fingers to the table. There was a clouded look in her eyes. She did not even turn for another glance at the priceless medallion.

“Secrets from my husband?” she murmured, pouting. “I don’t believe I can do a thing like that. No; it wouldn’t be right. As soon as Dave returns I must show him this medallion and the note.”

Perhaps, in her heart, Belle hoped that Dave would tell her that circumstances were such that she might properly keep the gift so strangely sent. Be that as it might, Belle Darrin had no notion of keeping any secret that might mean a wound to her gallant young husband’s trusting heart.

“I shall see what Dave says,” murmured Belle, as she turned away from the table.

CHAPTER XVII – DAVE FACES THE HUMAN TEMPEST

Lieutenant Katura stood in the long counting-room of the Okugawa Bank, a film of despair over his eyes, while Toruma and Hata, their words exhausted, looked on helplessly. Just then a young man, perhaps an American, well-dressed, keen, hustling and alert, bustled up to them.

“Will you pardon my addressing you?” he asked. “I was at the American Club, and from the look on your face, sir, I fear that you may have been made the butt of too rough a piece of work.”

“What do you mean, sir?” hastily asked Lieutenant Toruma, for Katura seemed incapable of speaking.

“Why, I saw you three on your way out through the crush around the coat room,” explained the stranger. “With you was one of my countrymen, I should judge.”

“An American, yes,” Toruma nodded.

“I saw him play a little trick on your friend here,” nodding at Katura. “At the time I did not think much about it, and I might have forgotten it, had not business brought me here. But my first look at you made me feel certain that something was wrong.”

“Something is wrong,” replied Lieutenant Toruma quickly. “But what was it that you saw near the coat room of the American Club?”

“I saw my countryman slip his hand in one of your pockets, sir,” continued the stranger, addressing Katura. “He took out some small object – a lacquer box, I should say, but I cannot be sure.”

“It was a lacquer box!” cried Katura, a fierce light leaping to his eyes, while his face, first paling, next turned to a deep red hue. “It is a lacquer box that I have just missed.”

“And Mr. Darrin remarked that he felt much tempted to steal it,” broke in Lieutenant Hata.

“Be still, Hata, please,” begged Katura, recovering his own dignity. “Mr. Darrin is an American officer and a gentleman, not a thief!”

“I trust I haven’t intruded, and that I haven’t made any trouble,” the stranger went on, hastily, “but you appeared to me to be in so much trouble that, as a gentleman, I felt I must speak to you.”

“And I thank you from the bottom of my heart, sir!” cried Katura, his eyes once more gleaming fiercely, despite the gentleness of his words.

“It was probably all a joke,” the stranger smiled, “but I am glad if I have been able to save you from any anguish of mind. Of course you will see my countryman – Barron, did you say his name is? I know that I may rely upon you all not to bring me into the matter.”

“You may depend upon us for the courtesy that is due to one gentleman from others,” promised Lieutenant Toruma.

Then, as their informant left them, the three Japanese held swift, sorrowful conference.

“Of course we must go to the hotel at once and see Mr. Darrin,” proposed Toruma.

“I feel that it will be necessary,” bowed Katura. “But let none of my friends suspect that it was more than a joke. An American officer and gentleman could not be an intentional thief.”

“Even as a joke it was in very, very bad taste,” declared Lieutenant Hata slowly and gravely.

“Say not so,” urged Katura. “Let us say nothing, and suspect or accuse no gentleman.”

“But let us go to the Imperial Hotel as fast as possible,” urged Lieutenant Toruma.

“By all means,” agreed Hata.

So Katura, who was sorrowful and dazed, felt thankful that he had loyal friends with him to do his thinking for him at this moment.

Not many minutes were needed for reaching the Imperial. Three little Japanese officers, with smiling faces, entered and went to the desk in the hotel office.

“We desire to see Mr. Darrin of the American Navy,” declared Toruma, speaking in Japanese to the clerk, who was a fellow-countryman.

“I regret much to say that Mr. Darrin is out,” replied the clerk.

“Then may we do ourselves the honor of waiting until your guest returns?” asked Hata.

“Officers of his majesty the Emperor will confer distinction upon this poor hotel by deigning to wait,” replied the clerk.

So the three Japanese officers walked into a parlor, where they took seats, knowing that they would be notified when Ensign Darrin reappeared at the hotel.

At about this time, Belle, who had been absent from her rooms for a few moments, was looking diligently for the note that had accompanied the lacquer box.

“I closed and locked the door when I went out, so I can’t understand what has happened to that note,” mused Belle Darrin perplexedly, as she hunted about the room.

The medallion itself still lay on the table, but to that the young wife now paid no heed.

So much did the disappearance of the note perplex her that Belle spent some minutes in the vain search for it.

At last, a perplexed frown on her face, she again picked up the lacquer box and stood gazing at the exquisite, precious medallion.

Below, Dave entered the hotel. He passed quickly through, going to the stairs.

Not immediately did he go to his apartment. First of all he turned down a corridor on the second floor to speak to Lieutenant Barbes from the “Katahdin.”

But the clerk, who saw Dave pass through the lobby, himself stepped into the parlor where the three Japanese lieutenants waited. Bowing very low, the clerk informed them that Mr. Darrin had returned and had gone to his apartment.

“The number of that apartment?” cried Toruma.

The clerk gave the number, forgetting to add that Mrs. Darrin was also there. Nor did the Japanese officers remember that Dave was married.

So, Toruma leading the way, the three filed up the stairs, sought the apartment, and knocked on the door.

Inside, Belle, the lacquer box in her hand, and supposing that it was a servant who had knocked, stepped over to open the door.

And there she stood in the doorway, the lacquer box in her hand, the medallion plainly showing.

The eyes of the three young officers immediately turned toward that priceless heirloom, not a betraying sign came to their faces.

“A thousand pardons, madam,” begged Toruma. “We have knocked at the wrong door. We sought the apartment of Mr. Darrin.”

“Then you have found the right door,” smiled Belle. “I am Mrs. Darrin. Unfortunately, my husband is out.”

“We were wrongly informed that he had returned,” apologized Toruma, bowing low. “We crave a thousand pardons, and hasten to withdraw.”

“Shall I tell Mr. Darrin who called?” asked Belle.

“We shall do ourselves the honor to see Mr. Darrin soon after he returns,” replied Lieutenant Toruma sweetly, in a voice in which there was no suspicion of menace.

“Who asks for me, gentlemen?” hailed a merry voice, as Ensign Dave Darrin rounded a turn in the corridor, and came upon the party. “Toruma? Katura? Hata? This is a pleasure.”

“We shall go to the main parlor below,” said Toruma courteously, taking the hand that Dave extended, as did the others. “May we hope to see you there, sir, at your own convenience?”

“I will be down inside of five minutes,” Dave promised lightly, and the Japanese bowed themselves away.

Unconsciously Belle had thrown behind her the hand that held the lacquer box. For that reason Dave did not see it until he had stepped inside and had closed the door after him.

Then, of a sudden, young Mrs. Darrin remembered her surprise, and held forward the box in such a way as to display the medallion lying in it.

“I have something strange, Dave dear, to tell you about this,” she announced.

With an astonished cry Dave caught up the box.

“Why it is – it must be – the heirloom that Katura showed me at the American Club this morning,” he uttered.

“Mr. Katura’s?” echoed Belle.

“Yes. And so he came here and offered it to you? Belle, my dear, we cannot accept such – ”

“Oh, do you think it could have been Mr. Katura who sent it to me?” the young wife asked.

“Sent it to you? Don’t you know who gave it to you?” Ensign Darrin asked, in amazement. “Didn’t he hand it to you just now?”

“Oh, no, indeed!” Belle exclaimed. “Listen, Dave.”

Thereupon Mrs. Darrin related all she knew of the matter. She and Dave spent some minutes together in hunting for the strange note, which could not be found.

“No use in looking any further,” Darrin declared, at last. “Besides Katura is waiting for me below. I will take this medallion back to him. Certainly he can clear up the matter for me.”

Full of uprightness of purpose Dave Darrin started below, to face a storm that was certain to be past his comprehension.