ers not to attempt any resistance. Your life and safety are
guaranteed by the word of the captain and the bearing of our crew, who
have also been forced to submit to the inevitable. I beg you all to
remain here and to await the further orders of the captain. There is no
danger so long as no resistance is offered; we are in the hands of the
Japanese navy, and must accustom ourselves to the altered
circumstances."

It was long after midnight before all grew quiet on board the _Tacoma_;
the passengers were busy packing their trunks, and it was quite late
before the cabin lights were extinguished on both sides of the ship,
which continued her voyage quietly and majestically in the direction of
Yokohama. The deck, generally a scene of cheerful life and gaiety until
a late hour, was empty, and only the subdued steps of the Japanese
marines echoed through the still night.

Twice more the searchlights were thrown on the _Tacoma_, but a
clattering answer from the signal lantern at once conveyed the
information that all was in order, whereupon the glaring ball of light
disappeared silently, and there was nothing on the whole expanse of dark
water to indicate that invisible eyes were on the lookout for every ship
whose keel was ploughing the deep.

The _Tacoma_ arrived at Yokohama the next morning, the passengers were
sent ashore, and the steamer herself was added as an auxiliary cruiser
to the Japanese fleet.

_Chapter III_

HOW IT BEGAN

Ding-ding-ding-ding--Ding-ding-ding-ding--went the bell of the railway
telegraph--Ding-ding-ding-ding----

Tom Gardner looked up from his work and leaned his ax against the wall
of the low tin-roofed shanty which represented both his home and the
station Swallowtown on the Oregon Railway. "Nine o'clock already," he
mumbled, and refilling his pipe from a greasy paper-bag, he lighted it
and puffed out clouds of bluish smoke into the clear air of the hot May
morning. Then he looked at the position of the sun and verified the fact
that his nickel watch had stopped again. The shaky little house hung
like a chance knot in an endless wire in the middle of the glittering
double row of rails that stretched from east to west across the flowery
prairie. It looked like a ridiculous freak in the midst of the wide
desert, for nowhere, so far as the eye could reach, was it possible to
discover a plausible excuse for the washed-out inscription "Swallowtown"
on the old box-lid which was nailed u