There didn’t seem to be much of anything for us to do but wait till the besiegers made the first move. It wasn’t as though we had a strong garrison and could make sorties. The best we could hope for was to beat off attacks. The odds weren’t so bad; five boys and a dog against five Japanese men, but the odds were on their side, I expect.

Of course they had to come to us, and they had to cross water to do it. There were three ways of coming—by swimming, which Motu said they couldn’t do; by boat, and they hadn’t any boat; or by raft, which would be easy for them to make. They might make a bridge, I suppose, and throw it across, but it didn’t seem likely. The thing we had to look out for, then, was a raft.

Both of us had good generals. I’ve seen enough of Mark Tidd in pinches to know that you can depend on his brain to do the best thing there is to do, and from what Motu said, and from what we had seen, The Man Who Will Come wasn’t to be sneezed at. If it hadn’t been for him I wouldn’t have had much worry. But he was a bad one!

While I was thinking about him what should he do but walk around the corner of the hotel and call over to us from his side of the moat.

“Good day to everybody,” says he.

“Same to you,” says Mark. “Hope you’re f-f-feelin’ well.”

“Oh, I am feeling splendidly well, very splendidly well, indeed. You have pretty little bridges that go up in air with sudden surprisingness,” says he, and grins again.

“We like it pretty well ourselves,” says Mark.

“I am talking,” says The Man Who Will Come, “for purpose of argument with you to lowering down the bridge from there.”

“We like it up p-p-pretty well.”

“Bridges are for walking across waters with dry feet. I would desire to walk across this water shod-dry to you.”

“We get a good view of you where you are. If you came nearer you m-m-might spoil the effect.”

“Have you seen little bad Japanese boy that goes running off away from kind fathers and uncles?” says he, with another broad grin.

I guess he was being sarcastic some.

“Japanese boy!” Mark pretended to look all over except where Motu was standing. “I don’t calc’late to see any Japanese boy.”

“Of course certainly not. Why should you see Japanese boy? For not any reason. Let us imagine to suppose there is no Japanese boy. Eh?”

“I’m perfectly willin’.”

“Then if there is not any why do you have bridge up in the air, for lighting on by birds?”

“We just put it up to see if it would w-w-work—and it did.” Mark added that last with an aggravating kind of a grin, but the Jap grinned right back.

“I have select friends together here with me. We take pleasure if we can come across. We are anxious with desirability to come across. I have lofely dispositions, but my friends, oh, I cannot tell. Sometimes they become to get angry quickly. Do you see? If you should not let to allow them on your bridge, I cannot say, no, I am not informed, what it is they might do.”

“Huh!” says Mark. “If they’re so anxious to come, tell ’em to swim.”

“We have made imaginings that there is no Japanese boy. Now let us make imaginings there is one. Eh? So. That Japanese boy has told you naughty things that are lie. Oh yes. But the truth is going now to be told you. He is a bad boy, so very bad a boy. It is not good for nice boys to have him close by and near to them. In his own land there would be spanking on honorable pants for him because he is so bad. Do you see to understand?”

“Sure,” says Mark. “We’re p-pretty average bad ourselves. I guess your imaginary boy won’t do us any harm.”

The Man Who Will Come grinned again as good-natured and friendly as possible.

“You do not know me,” says he. “I am of great determinations. Certainly. When in my mind I say a thing must be done, then that thing shall quickly be done without anybody bothering with a delay. Am I clearly plain? Now there is no imaginings. There is talking out straight from shoulders, as you say in this country. There stands Japanese boy. Here I stand. I am come for that boy. Also I shall not go away and depart without him. If you American boys pull down and lower your bridge and give up the Japanese boy there shall be no harm. Not the slightness of smallest.”

“That sounds good,” says Mark. “We don’t want any d-damage done. But s’posin’, just s’posin’ we couldn’t get around to givin’ up any Japanese boys to-day? What if we wanted a Japanese boy ourselves? What then?”

“Then,” says the man, “my friends and I myself shall take the boy. We shall come across by bridge or otherwise, as the case may be. We cannot be cautiously careful to hurt anybody, can we? No. It would not be certainly possible. So we come. Then you look out. Eh?” He grinned and swung his little stick just as if he was a summer visitor chatting pleasant about the weather.

“Now you l-listen,” says Mark, “and you’ll hear some facts. There’s a Japanese boy here, and his name’s Motu.” At that the man looked sort of surprised and turned to squint at Motu like he didn’t quite understand. “Also,” says Mark, “we owe that boy consid’able of a debt. We’re the debt-payin’ kind. Now, then, here’s Motu. If you want him, mister, come and get him. That’s f-final.”

“Good,” says the man. “Now we know, do not we? Each knows the other’s intention that he hopes to do. That makes it better. Good day to everybody.”

“Good day,” says Mark, “and if I was you I’d think it over a little before I started m-m-makin’ a landin’ on this shore. It’s a hot shore and l-likely to burn your feet.”

The man turned with the politest kind of a bow, and walked away as jaunty as the tenor in the Wicksville choir.

“Quick!” says Mark. “One of you get around to the other side of the citadel to see if anythin’s happenin’.” You see, he’d been suspicious that the man hadn’t come just to talk, but to keep us interested while he tried something where we couldn’t see. And Mark was right.

Plunk and I scooted around where we could see the other side, and there, about thirty feet off, was a Jap hanging on to a short log with one arm, and paddling toward us as fast and as quietly as he could. He didn’t see us.

“What’ll we do?” s............