At these hopeful words Miss Campbell came to herself with a start.  For a moment she had been faint and sick with the notion of what had happened.  Never before in all their thousands of miles of touring in the “Comet” had they injured so much as a fly; and now to run down a little child!  It was too dreadful to contemplate.

“Komatsu,” she ordered, in an unsteady voice, “tell the girl to get in and we will take her brother to the nearest doctor.”

Komatsu conveyed this message to the stricken sister, who shook her head violently.

“Honorable devil-wagon shoot pistol.  Japanese no likee,” he said.

Closer and closer pressed the tense mob about the party.  These courteous and gentle Japanese had suddenly been transformed into a fierce, savage people.

From one end of Japan to the other a child is considered a sacred thing.  If Billie had injured a grown person the public sentiment would not have been so strong, but to harm one of these little “treasure flowers” was to strike at the very heart of the nation.

“Can’t you understand that we are sorry and anxious to help you?” cried Miss Campbell, addressing the mob, but her voice was lost in the subdued threatening murmur which sounded like distant thunder heralding the approach of a storm.

“Good heavens, Komatsu, what are we to do?  The child might be saved if they would only listen to reason.”

“People no likee honorable devil-wagon.  Going breaking little pieces all same like sticks.”

“No, no, they must not,” ejaculated Billie.  “We are sorry,” she cried, stretching out her hands appealingly to the circle of Japanese pressed around the car.  “We didn’t mean to do it.”

In the meantime Miss Campbell had produced her bottle of smelling salts, the same that had accompanied her on all her trips, and climbed out of the car.  With a motion imperious and compelling she pushed aside the men and women in the circle.

The sister had laid the child on the ground and was kneeling beside him.  Komatsu knelt on the other side, feeling the little legs and body.

“No break bones,” he said briefly.

Miss Campbell sat on the ground by the unconscious child, wondering vaguely if she would ever rise again.

“They may tear us to pieces before we get back.  They are like an angry, silent pack of wolves,” she thought to herself.  “Komatsu,” she said aloud, “I believe he has fainted from fright,” She put the smelling bottle to the baby’s funny snub nose.

Presently the boy opened his eyes.

At this moment from the midst of the crowd there came a strange shrill cry and a distracted looking woman began beating and fighting her way toward the group.

“Honorable mother come in big hurry,” said Komatsu, in a low voice.  “Gracious lady, take jinriksha.  Honorable quickness best now.”

“But the child isn’t injured, Komatsu.  Look, he’s opened his eyes and he’s going to sit up.  It was simply fright.”