YANKEE BOYS INJAPAN

OR

THE YOUNG MERCHANTS OF YOKOHAMA

BY

HENRY HARRISON LEWIS

AUTHOR OF "The Valley of Mystery," "Won at West Point," "King of the Islands," etc.

NEW YORK AND LONDON STREET & SMITH. PUBLISHERS

[Pg iv]

Copyright, 1903 By STREET & SMITH ——— Yankee Boys in Japan

[Pg v]

CHAPTER I. THREE CHARACTERS ARE INTRODUCED.

It was early in the afternoon of a July day. A warm sun beaming down with almost tropical fervency glinted through the open windows of an office in the foreign settlement of Yokohama, Japan. The room, a large one, furnished with desks and chairs, and the various equipments of such an apartment, contained a solitary occupant.

He—it was a youth of not more than nineteen years of age—was leaning back in an easy, revolving chair, with his hands resting upon an account book laid open on a light bamboo desk. His face, as seen in the glare of the light, was peculiar. The expression was that termed old-fashioned by some. He had queer, puckered eyes, and many wrinkles here and there, but the chin was firm and resolute, and the forehead lofty—marks of intelligence and great shrewdness.

There was something in the pose of the body, however,[Pg 8] that did not denote either gracefulness or symmetry. Presently he arose from his chair and moved with a halting gait toward window opening into an outer court. Then it became evident that he was a cripple.

One leg, the right, was shorter than its mate. There was also a droop in the shoulders that betokened a lack of physical strength, or many years of ill health. Notwithstanding this misfortune, the youth had a cheerful nature. As he glanced out into the court, with its huge-leafed palms, shady maples, and the ever-present bamboos, he whistled softly to himself.

Presently the faint tinkling notes of a samisen—a native square-shaped banjo—came to his ears from a neighboring building. Then the rat-tat of the hourglass-shaped drum called tsuzumi joined in, and the air was filled with a weird melody.

With something like a sigh, the young man turned back to his work. Bending over the book, he added up interminable columns of figures, jotting down the results upon a pad at his elbow.

A stranger entering from the teeming street would have noted something amiss in this office. He would have seen that the half-dozen desks, with the exception of that being used by the solitary occupant, were thickly covered with dust.

[Pg 9]

A delicate tracery of cobwebs held in its bondage the majority of the chairs. There were others festooning the row of books and pasteboard files upon a number of shelves lining the walls. Over in one corner was an open fireplace, looking grim and rusted, and above a lacquered side table swung a parrot cage, desolate and empty. It was a scene of disuse, and it had its meaning.

It was the counting-room of John Manning, "Importer and Trader," as a tarnished gilt sign over the outer door informed the passerby. But the master of it, and of the huge warehouse back on the bay, had gone to his last rest many months before.

He had been the sole owner of the business—which rumor said had fallen into decay—and when he went to join his helpmate, he left two sons to fight the battle of life. One, Grant Manning, we now see hard at work in the old office. The other, Nathaniel Manning, or "Nattie," as he was familiarly called by his associates, was at that moment on his way to the office to join his brother.

Just fifteen years had John Manning conducted business as an importer and trader in the foreign quarter of Yokohama. At first his firm had prospered, but the coming of new people, and severe competition had finally almost forced the American to the wall.

He died leaving his affairs in a muddle, and now Grant,[Pg 10] after months of delay and litigation, was puzzling his brain over the carelessly kept books and accounts. Five years previous Nattie had been sent home to New England to school. He was on the point of entering Harvard when the word came that his father had suddenly passed away.

In the letter Grant had added that but little remained of their father's money, and that his presence was also needed to help settle the accounts. For several months after Nattie's arrival in Japan nothing could be done. At last the elder brother had cleared up matters sufficiently for the boys to see where they stood.

On the day on which this story opens Grant had arranged an appointment with his brother, and was now awaiting his coming with the patience characteristic of him.

The task he had taken upon himself was not the lightest in the world. The books were in almost hopeless confusion, but by dint of hard application Grant had finally made out a trial balance sheet. As he was adding the finishing touches to this, he suddenly heard the sounds of an animated controversy in the street.

An exclamation uttered in a familiar voice caused him to hastily leave his desk and open the door leading outside. As he did so a couple of jinrikishas—two-wheeled carriages pulled by coolies—came into sudden collision [Pg 11]directly in front of the office. Each vehicle was occupied by a fashionably dressed lad.

They were gesticulating angrily, and seemed on the point of coming to blows. The kurumayas, or jinrikisha men, were also bent on hostilities, and the extraordinary scene was attracting a dense crowd of blue-costumed natives. Rushing bareheaded into the street, Grant grasped one of the lads by the arm, and exclaimed:

"What under the sun does this mean, Nattie? What is the cause of this disgraceful row?"

"It's that cad, Ralph Black," was the wrathful reply. "He made his kurumaya run the 'rikisha in front of mine on purpose to provoke a quarrel. He will have enough of it if he don't look out."

"Not from you, Nattie Manning!" insolently called out the youth in the other vehicle. "You are very high and mighty for a pauper."

Nattie gave a leap from his carriage with the evident intention of wreaking summary vengeance upon his insulter, but he was restrained by Grant.

Ralph Black, a stocky-built youth of eighteen, with an unhealthy complexion, probably thought that discretion was the better part of valor as he hastily bade his kurumaya carry him from the spot.

The brothers gave a final glance after the disappearing[Pg 12] jinrikisha, and then entered the office, leaving the crowd of straw-sandaled natives to disperse before the efforts of a tardy policeman.

"Nattie, when will you ever learn to avoid these disgraceful rows?" remarked Grant, seating himself at his desk. "Since your return from the States you have quarreled with Ralph Black four or five times."

"I acknowledge it, brother, but, really, I can't help it," replied Nattie, throwing himself into a chair. "The confounded cad forces himself upon me whenever he can. He is insolent and overbearing, and I won't stand it. You know I never liked Ralph. Before I left for the States we were always rowing. He is a mean, contemptible sneak, and if there is anything on earth I hate it is that."

The lad's face flushed with passion, and as he spoke he struck the arm of the chair with his clinched fist. In both appearance and actions, the brothers were totally different. Stalwart for his age, clean-limbed, a handsome face, crowned by dark, clustering hair, Nattie would have attracted admiration anywhere.

As stated before, Grant was a cripple, deformed and possessed of a quaint, old-fashioned countenance, but readers of human nature would have lingered longer over the breadth of his brow, and the kindly, resolute chin.[Pg 13] Nattie would have delighted athletes, but his elder brother—a truce to descriptions, let their characters speak for themselves as the story progresses.

Grant smiled reprovingly. He had a great liking for Nattie, but he regretted his impulsiveness. None knew better than he that the lad was all right in his heart, but he needed a rudder to his ship of life.

"I suppose it is hard to bear sometimes," he acknowledged. "It is a pity that you are compelled to antagonize the fellow just when we are placed in such a predicament. I have gone over the books from end to end, but I declare I can't find any further references to the payment of the debt."

"We are sure father settled it, anyway."

"But we can't prove it, more's the pity. The last entry in father's personal account book is this: 'Paid this date the sum of five thousand, six hundred dollars ($5,600.00) to——' it ends there." Grant's voice lowered as he added: "At that moment he fell from his chair, you know, and died before help could come."

Both were silent for a while, then Nattie reached for the book in question, and glanced over it. Finally he said, with decision:

"That entry certainly means that father paid back Mr.[Pg 14] Black the debt of five thousand dollars, with six per cent. interest for two years, on the day of his death."

"There isn't the slightest doubt of it in my mind. I cannot find the faintest trace of any similar debt in the books. But Mr. Black swears the amount was not paid, and he threatens to sue the estate."

"Nice work for a reputable English exporting merchant. But I don't put it above him. The sire of such a son as Ralph Black would do almost anything, in my opinion."

[Pg 15]

CHAPTER II. NATTIE ARRIVES OPPORTUNELY.

"I am afraid he will push us to the wall if he can," replied Grant, taking up the balance sheet. "If Mr. Black compels us to pay, or rather repay the debt, it will leave us penniless. This little trouble with Ralph will probably cause him to take immediate action. Ralph has great influence over his father, you know."

"How does the estate stand?" asked Nattie, flecking a speck of dust from his carefully creased trousers.

"Badly enough. Briefly speaking, our liabilities, not counting the Black debt, are seventy-three thousand, eight hundred and ten dollars and forty-three cents, and the available assets, including everything—this building, the warehouse, and our home on the heights—are exactly eighty thousand dollars."

"Then we would have over six thousand dollars to the good if we could prove that father had really paid the English importing merchant?"

"Yes, in round numbers. Six thousand one hundred and eighty-nine dollars and fifty-seven cents. But there is[Pg 16] no use in beating around the bush, Nattie. We must face the issue squarely. We can't prove it, and we are ruined."

The younger brother sprang to his feet and paced restlessly up and down the office. There was a gleam in his eyes that boded ill for certain persons if they should ever be placed in his power. Halting abruptly in front of Grant, he said, passionately:

"It's a confounded shame that we should lose everything. Father was fifteen years building up this trade, and now it must all go because of that villain's treachery. You have gone over the books and know how the business stands. If we had money could we continue the business with any success?"

"Well, I should say so," replied Grant, earnestly. "We have been agents and correspondents of the best American houses. Why, when the business stopped, father had orders for almost one hundred thousand dollars' worth of petroleum, flour, calico, sugar and machinery. Then there are the exports. The firm of Broadhead & Company, of Philadelphia, wanted a consignment of rice and silk."

"You are well known to the government people also."

"None better. I can say without boasting that I stand higher with them than any other foreigner in business here. There is Yoshisada Udono, the secretary to the Minister of War; and the sub-admiral of the navy, [Pg 17]Tanaka Tamotsu. I have some influence with both, and in case of supplies I think I can hold my own. But what is the use of talking. We haven't the money, nor can we get it."

Nattie walked over to the window leading into the court, and glanced thoughtfully at the boxed walks, now overgrown with weeds. He plucked a sprig of bamboo, and returned to the center of the room. There was a smile upon his face.

"I have a plan, brother, which may work and may not," he said. "It can be tried."

Grant leaned back and eyed him in silence.

"You remember Mori Okuma?" continued Nattie.

"Of course. I know him well. He returned to Japan with you. He has been at Yale for several years. What about him?"

"Coming over on the steamer I became very chummy with him. He is as nice a Japanese youth as you can find in sight of the volcano of Fuji San, which about includes the islands, you know. Well, his people are dead, and he is the sole heir to over fifty thousand dollars in good hard money."

"And you propose?"

"To ask him to go in with us," replied Nattie, quietly. "He told me he wished to invest his wealth if possible.[Pg 18] He thought of returning to the States, but he can be talked out of that. What do you think of it?"

Grant was visibly excited. He arose from his chair and paced back and forth with queer little steps. He ran one white hand over his brow in a way he had. His face lost some of its careworn expression, and he finally became radiant with hope.

"Nattie, if we can induce him to form a firm with us our fortunes are made," he said, eagerly. "Twenty thousand dollars, not half of his capital, will square up everything and place us in running order. Just think of it! It will mean the defeat of many ill-wishers; it will save father's name from the disgrace of a failure, and it'll keep the old house going. When can you see him? How about bringing him here this afternoon? I can show him the books in a jiffy."

"I declare, brother, this is really the first time I ever saw you excited," laughed Nattie. "Why, you positively look like another fellow. Just bide here for a while, and I'll look Mori up. He'll be down to the tea house near the bank, I suppose."

He brushed his sleeves where dust from the desk had soiled them, jauntily placed his cork sun-helmet upon his head, and sauntered from the offices, leaving Grant still trotting up and down in unwonted animation. The[Pg 19] latter was alert and boyish. His face actually beamed—it was wonderful how the hope had changed him.

The mere thought that money might be secured and the house—his father's firm in which he had loved to labor—would be saved from the disgrace of bankruptcy was enough. The youth—he was nothing more in years—whistled a merry air, and limped to the window leading into the street.

Drawing the curtain aside, he glanced forth, then started back with an exclamation of surprise.

"Ah, they are at work early," he muttered. "I fancy the son's malevolence has brought this call."

A knock sounded at the door. Grant threw it open, and bowed politely to a man and a youth standing upon the threshold. The former, an austere Englishman, with dark side whiskers and a peculiar pallor of face, entered first. He was followed by a stocky-built youth, clad in fashionable garments. It was father and son, comprising the well-known firm of importers and traders, Jesse Black & Company.

Ralph gave Grant a malicious glance and seemed particularly pleased at something. The elder Black marched majestically to a seat near the center of the desk, and, after brushing the dust from it, settled himself with a grunt. All this with not a word.

[Pg 20]

The head of the firm glanced half contemptuously at the many evidences of disuse surrounding him; then he drew from an inner pocket a bill with several lines of writing upon it. This he handed to Grant.

"I suppose you know why I am here?" he asked, in a harsh voice.

"I believe I can guess," quietly replied the cripple.

"That bill will tell you. This estate owes me five thousand, six hundred dollars, not counting later interest. I need the money. Can you pay it to-day?"

"Mr. Black, you know I cannot. It is simply impossible. I am trying to get affairs straightened up so that I can settle father's debts, but I am not quite ready."

"Make him pay or threaten to sue," muttered Ralph, in a voice intended for his father's ears.

Grant overheard the words, however. His eyes, generally so gentle, flashed, and he turned sharply on the ill-favored youth.

"I am conducting this conversation with Mr. Black," he said, sternly. "I understand why this note has been presented to-day. It is your doings. Simply because you had a quarrel with my brother, and he threatened to chastise you, you retaliate by demanding this money. If the truth was known, the entire debt was paid by my father on the day of his death."

[Pg 21]

For a moment a silence death-like in its intensity followed this bold speech. Father and son glared at Grant as if hardly believing their ears. The elder merchant's pallor seemed to increase, and he furtively moistened his lips with his tongue.

Ralph's face paled, and then flushed until the cords stood out in his forehead. Clinching his fists he strode over to where the cripple was standing near the bamboo desk.

"What's that you say?" he demanded, hoarsely. "Do you know what you mean, you puny wretch? It is an accusation of fraud, that's what it is. Retract those words, or I'll cram the lie down your throat."

If Grant had faults, cowardice was not one of them. He thoroughly realized that he would be no match in a tussle with Ralph Black, but that fact did not daunt his spirit.

"If you are coward enough to strike me, go ahead," he replied, calmly. "I will retract nothing. I say that I fully believe my father paid your debt on the day of his death. I know——"

He was interrupted by Ralph. Wild with rage, the youth reached out and grasped Grant with his left hand, then he raised the other, and was on the point of aiming a[Pg 22] blow at him when the front door suddenly flew back. Two young men stood in the opening.

There was an exclamation of amazement, which died away in a note of wrath, then one of the newcomers darted forward, and in the twinkling of an eye Master Ralph found himself lying under a tall desk considerably confused and hurt, both bodily and in feelings.

Then Nattie, for it was he, turned on Mr. Black, who tried to speak, but only stammering words came from his lips. The merchant had watched the affair with dilated eyes. He remained motionless until he saw his son stricken down; then, with a cry, he snatched up a heavy ruler lying upon the bamboo desk.

As he raised it to strike at Nattie, the latter's companion, who had hitherto remained in the doorway, ran forward and grasped his arm. There was a brief struggle, in which both Nattie and the newcomer participated, then the Blacks, father and son, found themselves forced into the street.

"As Black raised the heavy ruler to strike at Nattie the latter's companion ran forward and grasped his arm." (See page 22)

[Pg 23]

CHAPTER III. GRANT IS MYSTERIOUS.

The occupants of the office waited for a few moments to see if the English merchant and his hopeful offspring cared to continue the scrimmage, but no attempt was made to open the door. Nattie glanced through the window, and saw them retreating up the street as fast as they could walk.

"Well, did you ever see the beat of that?" he finally exclaimed, turning back to his companions. "What is the meaning of it all, brother?"

Grant, who was still fuming with indignation, explained the affair in detail. Presently he quieted down and concluded by saying, regretfully:

"I am very sorry it occurred. To have such a row in this office is simply disgraceful. It also means an immediate suit for that debt, and any amount of trouble."

"We'll see if it can't be prevented," replied Nattie, cheerfully. "This is Mori Okuma, brother. You remember him."

The lame youth turned with outstretched hand and a smile of welcome to his brother's friend. The young[Pg 24] Japanese, whose modest garb and quiet manner proclaimed the high-class native, responded cordially to the greeting. He appeared to be not more than eighteen years of age. He had the kindly eyes and gentle expression of his race.