Mr. Tagomi called, ‘You, young fellows.’ He dug into his pocket. ‘Come here.’ The two boys guardedly approached. ‘Here’s a dime.’ Mr. Tagomi tossed them a dime; the boys scrambled for it. ‘Go down to Kearny Street and see if there are any pedecabs. Come back and tell me.’ ‘Will you give us another dime?’ one of the boys said. ‘When we get back?’ ‘Yes,’ Mr. Tagomi said. ‘But tell me the truth.’ The boys raced off along the path. If there are not, Mr. Tagomi thought, I would be well advised to retire to secluded place and kill myself. He clutched his briefcase. Still have the weapon; no difficulty, there. The boys came tearing back. ‘Six!’ one of them yelled. ‘I counted six.’ ‘I counted five,’ the other boy gasped. Mr. Tagomi said, ‘You’re sure they were pedecabs? You distinctly saw the drivers peddling?’ ‘Yes sir,’ the boys said together. He gave each boy a dime. They thanked him and ran off. Back to office and job, Mr. Tagomi thought. He rose to his feet, gripping the handle of his briefcase. Duty calls. Customary day once again. Once more he walked down the path, to the sidewalk. ‘Cab!’ he called. From the traffic a pedecab appeared; the driver came to a halt at the curb, his dark face glistening, chest heaving. ‘Yes sir.’ ‘Take me to the Nippon Times Building,’ Mr. Tagomi ordered. He ascended to the seat and made himself comfortable. Peddling furiously, the pedecab driver moved out among the other cabs and cars. It was slightly before noon when Mr. Tagomi reached the Nippon Times Building. From the main lobby he instructed a switchboard operator to connect him with Mr. Ramsey upstairs. ‘Tagomi, here,’ he said, when the connection was complete. ‘Good morning, sir. I am relieved. Not seeing you, I apprehensively telephoned your home at ten o’clock, but your wife said you had left for unknown parts.’ Mr. Tagomi said, ‘Has the mess been cleared?’ ‘No sign remains.’ ‘Beyond dispute?’ ‘’My word, sir.’ Satisfied, Mr. Tagomi hung up and went to take the elevator. Upstairs, as he entered his office, he permitted himself a momentary search. Rim of his vision. No sign, as was promised. He felt relief. No one would know who hadn’t seen. Historicity bonded into nylon tile of floor. . Mr. Ramsey met him inside. ‘Your courage is topic for panegyric down below at the Times, ‘he began. ‘An article depicting — ‘ Making out Mr. Tagomi’s expression he broke off.
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