The situation grew on Kent's nerves. Every morning when he looked out from his window, he half expected to see red flags in the streets, to hear the turmoil of mobs. It was absurd, he told himself. There were sure to be warnings, minor tumults, evidences of strained unrest. Still, he felt that he must spare no time in getting inside the facts as soon as possible, to come to see every side of the comprehensive picture.

It would be a good idea to become acquainted with the capitalistic side of the story. He began a round of calls on the money kings, captains of industry, the owners of names which recurred constantly in the news of economic events. For days he wandered about in the lairs of plutocracy, sent his card in to dozens of men, wasted hours in bleak waiting rooms with their scant furnishing of variegated chairs and tables, dusty curtains and innumerable ash trays, smoked idly while hundreds of clerks ran about, like bees in huge hives, or sat smoking and drinking tea. But the great men were always out of the city, or sick, or attending funerals of relatives. There was courtesy everywhere. Would he not see such and such a secretary or third vice-president instead? When he insisted, they shook their heads, a bit surprised at the effrontery of this stranger who thought that he might thus easily gain speech with the great ones. They were amusingly absurd, these foreigners, seemed to be their thought. It was as if he had marched into Buckingham Palace and demanded an interview with King George. He knew that he could probably make his way into even these hallowed sanctums, should he obtain letters of introduction from the Foreign Office, which was always most obliging in such matters. He know that letters of introduction held an exaggerated value, were regarded as almost indispensable by the Japanese themselves. But they aroused his resentment, these haughty, purse-proud plutocrats. Evidently talking to the press was the last thing they desired. Well, let them go to blazes then; if they did not want him to have their side of the story. He'd get it elsewhere.

But Kent's peregrinations into the labyrinth of Japanese economics were interrupted by a letter from Hopkinson, his editor, brought by hand by a tourist friend who happened to pass through Japan. Kent was glad to be certain that it had not passed through the uncertainties of the Japanese post office or the more insidious danger of the ever prying unseen hands.

"I want you to see what information you can get with respect to Japan's submarine plans," wrote Hopkinson. "Of course, the old exaggerated feeling of distrust against Japan in America has, since the Conference, been replaced by a possibly just as exaggerated feeling of confidence in her will to disarm. You will get what I am driving at by reading the Bywater article which I enclose, particularly the part where he says about Japan: 'With the possible exception of France, she is the only signatory which has laid the keels of new cruisers, destroyers and submarines since the limitation program was negotiated, and she is the only one who is now at work on a large program of these vessels.—The Japanese submarine flotilla is very much stronger both in numbers and individual power than is generally known, and no other navy in the world is building so many sea-going boats.—During the past three years no coastal submarines have been built in Japan, every boat being laid down within that period having been designed for long-range cruising.' Take this in connection with the speech of the Japanese War Minister, which you recently sent us, in which he declares that 'if a nation has large wealth, small standing armaments will suffice, for such a nation will be able to expand fully its armaments in case of emergency. On the contrary, a poor nation is necessarily compelled to develop its armaments gradually, for it would be unable to expand them rapidly.'

"We don't want sensational stuff, as you know, for we intend to carry on our policy of fostering friendship as long as possible, but we want you to get as much dope as you can, if for nothing else, at least for our own guidance and future reference——"

Damn it! Just as he was getting well started with the economic matter, he would have to devote his main energies to this distasteful task. He liked the Japanese and took far more pleasure in his stories which were to Japan's credit than in those which were not. However, there was some satisfaction in knowing that the Chronicle would pursue its usual conservative policy. As he thought the matter over, he became more interested. Of course, the situation should be covered. Heretofore he had followed it only in a general way, but had been inclined to overlook its importance because of his interest in the economic and social unrest.

"It's going to be the devil's own job," he said to Karsten, as they were smoking their pipes after dinner. "If there's one thing the Japanese keep quiet about, it's their submarines; and, of course, nothing in the Conference agreement prevents them from building as many as they like. And, besides, they are the obvious weapon of defense against America. Japan has an ideal situation with a long barrier of islands running from Saghalien as far as the Equator, if you include the Mandate Islands. Yes, I know that under the Mandate terms, she can't fortify them, but the Germans showed that any little place with a few barrels of oil on it can make a submarine base. They can place the oil there in a jiffy, if they expect trouble. Maybe it is already there; oil can be used for lots of things besides war. There's nothing to prevent it. With a chain of island supply stations and a great fleet of submarines Japan can put up a wonderful defense and commerce destruction. That's all self-evident. The job is going to be to find out what they are doing in that line and what they intend to do. It's a regular Oppenheim job. What do you think of it?"

"You know I don't take much interest in that sort of thing," Karsten rubbed his chin thoughtfully, stood up and began pacing the floor. "Still, of course, one hears a lot of talk, and I think that most foreigners here have about the same idea on the matter. The submarine is Japan's natural weapon to-day. A few years ago, before America entered the war, Japan thought she could lick the United States and her strategy was based on offensive lines. When she found to her bitter disappointment that America really could fight, she began to revise her opinion, and when America's program of bigger fortifications in Hawaii and elsewhere was brewing, she felt that she had no choice but to continue feverishly with the Eight-and-Eight battle fleet program which she had originated when the idea was to lick America. But she could never have kept it up. She couldn't have afforded it. Of course, the militarists are professionals who don't care about anything but the army and navy. They would have insisted, even if the country had been bled white. But even then, even if she had managed to build the fleet, she couldn't have kept it up. Her war savings are decreasing at an alarming rate, her national wealth, commerce, industry, the whole thing is decreasing. The Washington Conference was the biggest bit of luck that ever happened to Japan. It enabled her to save her face, and to make a big play to gain international confidence—which I'm glad she got—and at the same time to save her from the necessity of building a vast fleet of battleships, which she couldn't afford, and do it with the assurance that America wouldn't outstrip her in a naval race either.

"So as Japan had, reluctantly, made up her mind that she must change to a defensive strategy anyway, she is just as well off with a fleet of submarines, which won't cost her nearly so much. Then, when I said that the submarine was Japan's natural weapon, I meant it in a psychological sense also. Remember, it has always been Japan's cue to watch wars and take lessons from them. Nothing probably impressed her quite so much as the fact that Germany almost beat England, in spite of her great battleships, with her unterseeboten. The general horror of the 'frightfulness' involved never touched Japan. She simply couldn't see the idea. It was virtually successful—would have been entirely so had Germany had the advantages that Japan has—and, personally, I don't believe that the militarists have one ethic to rub on another, so to speak. They'd cheerfully adopt German frightfulness, with such improvements as they might devise, and never even be able to see that it was morally wrong, so long as they thought that it would work and that they could get away with it. You know that the German methods never aroused the slightest feeling of disgust or horror in the people of Japan. They honestly wondered what the devil we were making such a fuss about. The militarists saw, sadly, that the German war machine, which they had used as a model, went to smash, that they'd have to remodel. There was never, with the whole people, any enmity against Germany. At one time, during the spring of 1917 I think it was, when some British ship had stopped a Japanese boat to search for Germans, the feeling against England was far stronger than it ever was against Germany. At the time of the Paris Conference, when the rest of the world was yelling to hang the Kaiser, his picture, mustaches, eagle helmet and all, was offered for sale in windows not a block from Hibiya—though at reduced prices, it's fair to add. That's why I say that the submarine is Japan's natural weapon. It suits her geographically, financially and ethically. Go to it, old man, there's a story there, all right—but I don't think you'll get it."