The next day passed without a sight of a single Japanese. Motu told us it was probably because the four were pretty badly scared by what happened the night before, and were waiting for The Man Who Will Come. He said the four were just sort of scrub Japs, full of superstitions and that sort of thing. But, says he, don’t expect any ghost dodges to frighten the other fellow. Motu’s idea was that the four would lay back and keep watch.

Motu stayed inside all day. Plunk and Binney fished. Mark pottered around on the island across his little lift-bridge, and I don’t know just what he was up to, though I found out later, and so did the Japanese. As for me, I was just plum lazy. I took one of the books Mark brought along—it was by a fellow named Stevenson, and was all about a man named Alan Breck and another called Davie Balfour—and read. I didn’t intend to read long, but I found out I’d got hold of the wrong kind of a book to quit. I couldn’t quit, and put in the whole day at it.

At night we set watch again, but nothing happened. It wasn’t till nearly noon next day when something did happen. I was sitting on the porch at the time with Mark Tidd. Down the road a couple of hundred yards we saw a man coming. He was a little man, and even at that distance we saw he walked sort of jaunty, swinging his shoulders and switching off leaves with a slender cane. He looked all dressed up.

When he got closer we saw he was all dressed up. Dressed up? Wow! I should say he was. He was a regular dude. Sticking in one eye was one of those funny spectacle things like Englishmen wear in funny pictures. There was just one glass to it, and it was hitched to a black ribbon. On his head was a straw hat, one of those kind that cost a lot of money and come from some place across the Pacific Ocean—a Bankok, they call them, I guess. His clothes were light gray and they fitted him like they had been made on purpose. On his feet he wore spats—at least that’s what Mark Tidd said they were. I never saw any such idiotic things before. You’ve seen a dicky for a shirt, haven’t you? A sort of false front? Well, spats are dickies for shoes.

The man came on without showing a sign that he saw us. His face was screwed kind of sideways to hold that single glass in his eye, and he appeared to be pretty well pleased with himself. He was a Jap!

“Mark,” says I, “it’s him!”

“Yes,” says he, “The One Who Will Come has g-g-got here.”

We waited without making a move till he got right up to us. Then he took off his hat and made a bow like d’Artagnan in the Three Musketeers—a regular old ground-sweeper.

“To you good morning,” says he, kind of mincing his words like a girl with half a college education that took lessons on the violin and elocution.

“Good morning,” we says right back at him.

“You have some beautiful places to live at,” says he, as polite as a hungry cat miawing around the dinner-table.

“There’s f-f-folks might disagree with you,” says Mark, “but we feel pretty well suited.”

“To be of course,” says he. “A hotel, do you not? Yes. For in which is meals and beds to sleep?”

“Almost,” says Mark, “but not quite. It’s what’s left of a hotel.”

“It is your hotel? You in personally are its keeper?”

“I guess it needs a keeper, all right,” says Mark, “but I ain’t it.”

“You take in individuals for boarding?”

“Nope.”

“Not? Oh, I was presenting myself as boarder. I wished rooming and eating.”

“You came to the wrong shop.”

“For reasonable money paid on Mondays would you not give me roomings and boardings?”

“Not even for money p-p-paid on Sundays,” says Mark.

“Do you make no exceptions to rule?”

“No.”

“But certainly yes. You have taking in a boarder the day or two before.”

“L-l-listen here, mister,” says Mark, “we’re not takin’ boarders now nor yesterday. We are four boys on a fishin’ trip. Mr. Ames lent us this hotel. We ain’t l-lookin’ for any company. There you have the facts.”

“But you give board to Japanese boy. Eh? Not? To be sure. To bad leetle Japanese boy that runned off away. You meet him in woods and he say, ‘Give me eatings and sleepings.’ So you give to him. Also he stays yet continuously near by in room of seclusion out of view.”

“Say that all over,” says Mark. “I guess I d-don’t quite get all of it the first bite.”

“Japanese boy come. Telling story about naughty lying. Smaller Japanese boy than you are little. You see him? To be surely certain. He is running off away from fathers and mothers and uncles and relatives. See me. Looking at me closely. Have I not the look of an uncle? You see it. An uncle. Small Japanese boy has father who sends me to bringing him to return. That is all. Spankings shall be for Japanese boy, but not nothing more. Eh? He is now up over the stairs? Yes. Shall I climbing up-stairs for after him?”

“Mister,” says Mark, “what are you t-talkin’ about? You scramble your talk all up so nobody can understand what you’re gettin’ at.”

“Is little Japanese boy here?”

Mark got up and looked all around, and then looked at The Man Who Will Come, sort of puzzled.

“Did you f-f-fetch a little boy with you?”

“Not,” says the man. “Before I came he arrived.”

Mark shrugged his shoulders. “I guess we better humor him,” he says to me, but loud enough so the man could hear. “He’s one of them lunies, I calc’late. Talks c-c-crazy, don’t he? What’s he mean, anyhow?”

“Honorable fat boy is mistakenly in error,” says the Japanese. “There is no craziness. Altogether vice versa on the opposite. I am very much unusually bright in mind. I shall show you I have an education. I know to speak many languages.”

“Speak all of ’em as well as you s-s-speak English?”

“Yes, yes. Some as good and all better.”

“The feller that taught you,” says I, “must have known a joke when he saw it. Did he laugh much?”

He didn’t pay any attention to me, but says to Mark: “What room is Japanese boy? Up-stairs?”

“He’s got Japanese boy on the b-brain,” says Mark to me. Then he turned to the man and says: “Say, mister, was you foolin’ around here the other night? S-somebody got into the hotel and fell d-down-stairs, and screeched around and raised an awful row. Was it you?”

“Ho! No, it was not myself.” He laughed and showed two rows of the whitest teeth you ever saw. “It was ignorant fellow without schooling, who believe ghosts and spirits walks up and down. He was so frightened he has not yet stopped the shivering and shaking. You play trick on him? Eh?”

“Now look here,” says Mark, “what do you want, anyhow? We b-boys are here for a good time, and we d-don’t want anybody prowlin’ around at all times of the night. If you want somethin’ just say so. If we can g-give it to you we’ll give it; if not, we&rsquo............