ly another term for
pursuit.

He flung down his paper and strode out to the lobby.

"When is the next train for Kioto?" he demanded.

"At ten to-night, sir."

"Make out my bill, and get my luggage down; I'm leaving on that train."

"But, sir, you have made no reservation. You may have to sit up all
night."

"Have you any objections?" asked the Honorable Percival in his most
insular manner.

X

ON THE SEARCH

The clerk's prophecy proved all too true. Percival and his valet sat all
night in a crowded, smoke-dimmed car, between a fat Japanese wrestler
and a fatter Buddhist priest, both of whom squatted on their heels and
read aloud in monotonous, wailing tones. The air was close, and the
floor was strewn with orange peel, spilt tea, and cigarette ends.
Percival's fastidious senses were offended as they had never been
offended before. Under ordinary circumstances nothing could have induced
him to submit to such discomfort, but the circumstances were not
ordinary.

The alternative of remaining calmly in Yokohama and allowing an
aggressive young American to monopolize the girl of his even temporary
choice was utterly intolerable. Moreover, he was coming to see that
while Bobby had failed to droop under the frost of his displeasure, it
was still probable that she would melt into penitence at the first smile
of royal forgiveness.

During the long hours of that interminable night he had ample time to
reflect upon the folly of pursuing an object which he did not mean to
possess. But though wisdom urged discretion, a blue eye and a furtive
dimple beckoned.

When morning came, he straightened his stiff legs and, picking his way
through the wooden sandals that cluttered the aisle, went out to the
small platform. The train had stopped at a village, and a boy with a
tray suspended from his shoulders, bearing boxes of native food, was
howling dismally:

"Bento! Eo Bento!"

Percival beckoned to him. "I say, can't you get me a roll and a cup of
coffee!"

"Bento?" asked the boy, expectantly.

"Coffee!" shouted Percival. "Rather strong, you know, and hot."

"Tan San? Rhomenade?" asked the boy.

"Coffee. Cafe. What a silly fool!" Percival muttered.

About this time several windows in the car went up, and many voices took
up the cry of "Bento." When Percival reentered, he found that a large
pot of boiling water had been deposited in the aisle, and small tea-pots
had been distributed among the passengers. E