_Mystery Stories for Boys_

Triple Spies

By ROY J. SNELL

The Reilly & Lee Co. Chicago1920

[Illustration: Roy J. Snell, and his sledge-team of Alaskan Huskies. ]

CONTENTS

 I THE DEN OF DISGUISES II THE MYSTERIOUS RUSSIAN III TREACHERY OUT OF THE NIGHT IV A NARROW ESCAPE V "FRIEND? ENEMY?" VI "NOW I SHALL KILL YOU" VII SAVED FROM THE MOB VIII WHEN AN ESKIMO BECOMES A JAP IX JOHNNY'S FREE-FOR-ALL X THE JAP GIRL IN PERIL XI A FACE IN THE NIGHT XII "GET THAT MAN" XIII BACK TO OLD CHICAGO XIV THE MYSTERY OF THE CHICAGO RIVER XV THE CAT CRY OF THE UNDERWORLD XVI CIO-CIO-SAN BETRAYED XVII A THREE-CORNERED BATTLEXVIII HANADA'S SECRET XIX "I SEEN IT--A SUBMARINE!" XX AT THE BOTTOM OF THE RIVER XXI THE OWNER OF THE DIAMONDS

TRIPLE SPIES

CHAPTER I

THE DEN OF DISGUISES

As Johnny Thompson stood in the dark doorway of the gray stonecourt-yard he shivered. He was not cold, though this wasSiberia--Vladivostok--and a late winter night. But he was excited. 

Before him, slipping, sliding, rolling over and over on the hard packedsnow of the narrow street, two men were gripped in a life and deathstruggle. They had been struggling thus for five minutes, each strivingfor the upper hand. The clock in the Greek Catholic church across theway told Johnny how long they had fought. 

He had been an accidental and entirely disinterested witness. He knewneither of the men; he had merely happened along just when the rowbegan, and had lingered in the shadows to see it through. Twelve, yes, even six months before, he would have mixed in at once; that had alwaysbeen his way in the States. Not that he was a quarrelsome fellow; on thecontrary he was fond of peace, was Johnny, in spite of the fact that hecarried on his person various medals for rather more-than-goodfeather-weight fighting. He loved peace so much that he was willing tolick almost anyone in order to make them stop fighting. That was why hehad joined the American army, and allowed himself to be made part of theExpeditionary force that went to the Pacific coast side of Siberia. 

But twelve months in Siberia had taught him many things. He had learnedthat he could not get these Russians to stop quarreling by merelywhipping them. Therefore, since these men were both Russians, he had letthem fight. 

The tall, slender man had started it. He had rushed at the short, squareshouldered one from the dark. The square shouldered one had flashed aknife. This had been instantly knocked from his grasp. By some chance, the knife had dropped only an arm's length from the doorway into whichJohnny had dodged. Johnny now held the knife discreetly behind hisback. 

Yes, Johnny trembled. There was a reason for that. The tall, slender manhad gained the upper hand. He was stretched across the prone form of hisantagonist, his slim, horny hands even now gliding toward the other'sthroat. And, right there, Johnny had decided to draw the line. He wasnot going to allow himself to witness the strangling of a man. Thatwasn't his idea of fighting. He would end the fight, even at the expenseof being mussed up a bit himself, or having certain of his cherishedplans interfered with by being dragged before a "Provo" as witness orparticipant. 

He was counting in a half-audible whisper, "Forty-one, forty-two, forty-three. " It was a way he had when something big was about tohappen. The hand of the slender man was at the second button on theother's rough coat when Johnny reached fifty. At sixty it had come tothe top button. At sixty-five his long finger-tips were doubling in forthe fatal, vice-like grip. Noiselessly, Johnny laid the knife on a crossbar of the door. Knives were too deadly. Johnny's "wallop" was quiteenough; more than enough, as the slender one might learn to his sorrow. 

But before Johnny could move a convulsion shot through the prostratefighter. He was again struggling wildly. At the same instant, Johnnyheard shuffling footsteps approaching around the corner. He was sure hedid not mistake the tread of Japanese military police who were guardingthat section of the city. For a moment he studied the probabilities ofthe short one's power of endurance, then, deciding it sufficient to lastuntil the police arrived, he gripped the knife behind his back anddarted toward an opposite corner where was an alley offering safety. There were very definite reasons why Johnny did not wish to figure evenas a witness in any case in Vladivostok that night. 

In a doorway off the alley, he paused, listening for sounds of increasedtumult. They came quickly enough. There was a renewed struggle, a grunt, a groan; then the scuffling ceased. 

Suddenly, a figure darted down the alley. Johnny caught a clear view ofthe man's face. The fugitive was the shorter man with broad shouldersand sharp chin; the man who the moment before had been the under dog. He was followed closely by another runner, but not his antagonist in thestreet fight. This man was a Japanese; and Johnny saw to his surprisethat the Jap did not wear the uniform of the military police; in fact, not any uniform at all. 

"Evidently, that stubby Russian with the queer chin is wanted forsomething, " Johnny muttered. "I wonder what. Anyway, I've got hisknife. "

At that he tucked the weapon beneath his squirrel-lined coat and, dropping out of his corner, went cautiously on his way. 

So eager was he to attend to other matters that the episode of thestreet fight was soon forgotten. Dodging around this corner, then that, giving a wide berth to a group of American non-coms, dashing off a hastysalute to three Japanese officers, he at last turned up a narrow alley, and, with a sigh of relief, gave three sharp raps, then a muffled one, at a door half hidden in the gloom. 

The door opened a crack, and a pair of squint eyes studied himcautiously. 

"Ow!" said the yellow man, opening the door wider, and then closing italmost before Johnny could crowd himself inside. 

To one coming from the outer air, the reeking atmosphere within this lowceilinged, narrow room was stifling. There was a blend of vile odors;opium smoke, not too ancient in origin, mixed with smells of cooking, while an ill-defined but all-pervading odor permeated the place; such anodor as one finds in a tailor's repair shop, or in the place of a dealerin second-hand clothing. 

Second-hand clothing, that was Wo Cheng's line. But it was a ratherunusual shop he kept. Being a Chinaman, he could adapt himself tocircumstances, at least within his own realm, which was clothes. Hisestablishment had grown up out of the grim necessity and dire pressureof war. Not that the pressure was on his own person; far from that. Somewhere back in China this crafty fellow was accumulating a fortune. He was making it in this dim, taper-lighted, secret shop, opening off analley in Vladivostok. 

In these times of shifting scenes, when the rich of to-day were the poorof to-morrow, or at least were under the necessity of feigning poverty, there were many people who wished to change their station in life, andthat very quickly. It was Wo Cheng's business to help them make thischange. Many a Russian noble had sought this noisome shop to exchangehis "purple and fine linen" for very humble garb, and just what he tookfrom the pockets of one and put in the pockets of the other suit, WoCheng had a way of guessing, though he appeared not to see at all. 

Johnny had known Wo Cheng for some time. He had discovered his shop byaccident when out scouting for billets for American soldiers. He hadlater assisted in protecting the place from a raid by Japanese militarypolice. 

"You wanchee somsling?" The Oriental grinned, as Johnny seated himselfcross-legged on a grass mat. 

"Yep, " Johnny grinned in return, "wanchee change. " He gripped the lapelof his blouse, as if he would remove it and exchange for another. 

"You wanchee clange?" The Chinaman squinted at him with an air ofincredulity. 

Then a light of understanding seemed to over-spread his face. "Ow!" heexclaimed, "no can do, Mellican officer, not any. No can do. "

"Wo Cheng, you no savvy, " answered Johnny, glancing about at the tiersof costumes which hung on either side of the wall. 

"Savvy! Savvy!" exclaimed Wo Cheng, bounding away to return with theuniform of an American private. "Officer, all same, " he exclaimed. "Nocan do. "

"No good, " said Johnny, starting up. "You no savvy. Mebby you no wancheesavvy. No wanchee uniform. Wanchee clothes, fur, fur, plenty warm, yousavvy? Go north, north, cold, savvy?"

"Ow!" exclaimed the Chinaman, scratching his head. 

"Wo Cheng!" said Johnny solemnly, "long time my see you. Allatime, mysee you. Not speak American Major; not speak Japanese police. "

Wo Cheng shivered. 

"Now, " said Johnny, "my come buy. "

"Ow!" grunted Wo Cheng, ducking from sight and reappearing quickly witha great coat of real seal, trimmed with sea otter, a trifle which hadcost some noble of other days a king's ransom. 

"No wanchee, " Johnny shook his head. 

"Ow!" Wo Cheng shook his head incredulously. This was his rarestoffering. "You no got cumshaw, money?" he grinned. "All wite, my say. "

"No wanchee my, " Johnny repeated. 

The Chinaman took the garment away, and returned with a similar one, less pretentious. This, too, was waved aside. 

By this time Johnny had become impatient. Time was passing. A specialtrain was to go north at four o'clock. It was going for reindeer meat, rations for the regiment that was Johnny's, or, at least, had beenJohnny's. He could catch a ride on that train. A five hundred mile lifton a three thousand mile jaunt was not to be missed just because thisChink was something of a blockhead. 

Pushing the proprietor gently to one side, Johnny made his way towardthe back of the room. Scrutinizing the hangers as he went, and givingthem an occasional fling here and there, as some garment caught his eye, he came presently upon a solid square yard of fur. With a grunt ofsatisfaction, he dragged one of the garments from its place and held itbefore the flickering yellow taper. 

The thing was shaped like a middy-blouse, only a little longer and ithad a hood attached. It was made of the gray squirrel skins of Siberia, and was trimmed with wolf's skin. As Johnny held it against his body, itreached to his knees. It was, in fact, a parka, such as is worn by theEskimos of Alaska and the Chukches, aborigines of North Siberia. 

One by one, Johnny dragged similar garments from their hangers. Comingat last upon one made of the brown summer skins of reindeer, and trimmedwith wolverine, he seemed satisfied, for, tossing the others into apile, he had drawn off his blouse and was about to throw the parka overhis head, when something fell with a jangling rattle to the floor. 

"O-o-ee!" grunted the Chinaman, as he stared at the thing. It was theknife which had belonged to the Russian of the broad shoulders and sharpchin. As Johnny's eyes fell upon it now, he realized that it was analtogether unusual weapon. The blade was of blue steel, and from itsring it appeared to be exceptionally well tempered. The handle was ofstrangely carved ivory. 

Quickly thrusting the knife beneath his belt, Johnny again took up theparka. This time, as he drew the garment down over his head, he appearedto experience considerable difficulty in getting his left arm into thesleeve. This task accomplished, he stretched himself this way and that. He smoothed down the fur thoughtfully, pulled the hood about his ears, and back again, twisted himself about to test the fit, then, with a sighof content, turned to examine a pile of fur trousers. 

At that instant there came a low rap at the door--three raps, to beaccurate--then a muffled thud. 

Johnny started. Someone wanted to enter. He was not exactly in acondition to be seen, especially if the person should prove to be anAmerican officer. His fur parka, topping those khaki trousers andputtees of his, would seem at least to tell a tale, and might complicatematters considerably. Quickly seizing his blouse, he crowded his wayfar back into the depths of a furry mass of long coats. 

"Wo Cheng!" he whispered, "my wanchee you keep mouth shut. Allatimeshut!"

"O-o-ee, " grunted the Chinaman. 

The next moment he had opened the door a crack. 

The squint eyes of the Chinaman surveyed the person without for a longtime, so long, in fact, that Johnny began to wonder what sort of personthe newcomer could be. Wo Cheng was keen of wit. To many he refusedentrance. But he was also a keen trader. All manner of men and womencame to him; some for a permanent change of costume, some for a night'sexchange only. Peasants, grown suddenly and strangely rich, bearingpassports and tickets for other lands, came to buy the cast-off fineryof the one time nobility. Russian, Japanese, American soldiers andofficers came to Wo Cheng for a change, most of them for a single twelvehours, that they might revel in places forbidden to men in uniform. Butsome came for a permanent change. Wo Cheng never inquired why. He askedonly "Cumshaw, money, " and got it. 

Was this newcomer Russian, Japanese, Chinaman or American?

The door at last opened half way, then closed quickly. The person whostood blinking in the light was not a man, but a woman, a short and slimyoung woman, with the dark round face of a Japanese. 

"You come buy?" solicited Wo Cheng. 

For answer, the woman drew off her outer garment of some strange wooltexture and trimmed with ermine. Then, as if it were an everydayoccurrence, she stepped out of her rich silk gown, and stood there in asuit of deep purple pajamas. 

She then stared about the place until her eyes reached the fur garmentswhich Johnny had recently examined. With a laugh and a spring, lithe asa panther, she seized upon one of these, then discarding it with afling, delved deeper until she came upon some smaller garments, whichmight better fit her slight form. Comparing for a moment one of squirrelskin with one of fawn skin, she finally laid aside the latter. Then sheattacked the pile of fur trousers. At the bottom she came upon someshort bloomers, made also of fawn skin. With another little gurgle oflaughter, she stepped into these. Next she drew the spotted fawn skinparka over her head, and stood there at last, the picture of a winsomeEskimo maid. 

This done, woman-like, she plumed herself for a time before a murkymirror. Then, turning briskly, she slipped out of the garments and backinto her own. 

"You wanchee cumshaw?" she asked, handing the furs to the Chinaman to bewrapped. 

The Chinaman grinned. 

From somewhere on her person she extracted bills, American bills. Johnnywas not surprised at that, for in these uncertain times, American moneyhad come to be an undisputed medium of exchange. It was always worth asmuch to-day as yesterday--very often more. The thing that did surpriseJohnny was the size of the bills she left with the dealer. She wasbuying those garments, there could be no question about that. But why?No one in this region would think of wearing them. They were seldom seenfive hundred miles north. And this woman was a Japanese. There were noJapanese men at Khabarask, five hundred miles north, let alone Japanesewomen; Johnny knew that. 

But the door had closed. The American looked at his watch. It was oneo'clock. The train went at four. He must hurry. 

He was about to move out from among the furs, when again there came arap, this time loud and insistent, as if coming from one who wasaccustomed to be obeyed. 

"American officer!" Johnny stifled a groan, as he slid back into hiding. 

"Wo Cheng!" he cautioned again in a whisper, "my wanchee you keep mouthshut; you savvy?"

"O-o-ee, " mumbled Wo Cheng, his hand on the latch. 

CHAPTER II

THE MYSTERIOUS RUSSIAN

Johnny's jaw dropped, and he barely checked a gasp, as through hisscreen of furs he saw the man who now entered Wo Cheng's den ofdisguises. He was none other than the man of the street fight, the shortone of the broad shoulders and sharp chin. Johnny was surprised in moreways than one; surprised that the man was here at all; that it couldhave been he who had given that authoritative signal at the door, andmost of all, surprised that Wo Cheng should have admitted him soreadily, and should be treating him with such deference. 

"Evidently, " Johnny thought to himself, "this fellow has been herebefore. "

Although unquestionably a Russian, the newcomer appeared quite equal tothe task of making his wants known in Chinese, for after a moment'sconversation the two men made their way toward the back of the room. 

Johnny had his second shock when he saw the garments the Russian beganto examine. They were no other than those which had twice before in thelast hour been examined by customers, the clothing for the Far North. This was too much. Again, he barely checked a gasp. Was the entirepopulation of the city about to move to the polar regions? He would askWo Cheng. In the meantime, Johnny prayed that the Russian might make hischoice speedily, since the time of departure of his train wasapproaching. 

The Russian made his selections, apparently more from a sense of tastethan with an eye to warmth and service. This final choice was a suit ofsquirrel skin and boots of deer skin. 

"Cumshaw?"

Into Wo Cheng's beady, squinting eyes, as he addressed this word to theRussian, there came a look of malignant cunning which Johnny had notseen there before. It sent chills racing up and down his spine. Italmost seemed to him that the Chinaman's hand was feeling for his belt, where his knife was hidden. 

For a moment the Russian turned his back to Wo Cheng, and so facedJohnny. Behind his screen, the "Yank" could observe his actions withouthimself being seen. 

From an inner pocket the Russian extracted a long, thick envelope. Unwrapping the cord at the top of this, he shook from it three shiningparticles. 

"Diamonds!" Johnny's eyes were dazzled with the lustre of the jewels. 

The Russian, selecting one, dropped the others back into the envelope. 

"Bet he's got a hundred more, " was Johnny's mental comment. Then henoticed a peculiarity of the envelope. There was a red circle in thelower, left hand corner, as if a seal had been stamped there. He wouldremember that envelope should he ever see it again. 

But at this instant his attention was drawn to the men again. TheRussian had turned and handed the gem to Wo Cheng. Wo Cheng stepped tothe light and examined it. 

"No need cumshaw my, " he murmured. 

The Russian bowed gravely, and turned toward the door. 

It was then that the face of the Chinaman underwent a rapid change. Thelook of craftiness, treachery, and greed swept over it again. This timethe yellow man's hand unmistakably reached for the knife. 

Then he appeared to remember Johnny, for his hand dropped, and he halfturned with an air of guilt. 

The door closed with a little swish. The Russian was gone. With him wentthe stifling air of treachery, murder and intrigue, yet it left Johnnywondering. Why was every man's hand lifted against the sharp-chinnedRussian? Had Wo Cheng been actuated by hate, or by greed? Johnny couldnot but wonder if some of Russia's former noblemen did not rest inshallow graves beneath Wo Cheng's cellar floor. But there was littletime for speculation. In two hours the special train that Johnny wantedto take would be on its way north. 

Springing nimbly from his place of hiding, Johnny recovered his blouse, and having secured from it certain papers, which were of the utmostimportance to him, he pinned them in a pocket of his shirt. He nextselected a pair of wolf skin trousers, a pair of corduroy trousers, onepair of deer skin boots and two of seal skin. 

"Cumshaw?" he grinned, facing Wo Cheng, as he completed his selection. 

The yellow man shrugged his shoulders, as if to say it made littledifference to him in this case. 

Johnny peeled a bill from his roll of United States currency and handedit to him. 

"Wo Cheng, " he said slowly, "go north, Jap woman? Go north, thatRussian? Why?"

The Chinaman's face took on a mask-like appearance. 

"No can do, " he muttered. "Allatime keep mouth shut my. "

"Tell me, " commanded Johnny, advancing in a threatening manner, with hishand near the Russian's knife. 

"No can do, " protested the Chinaman cringing away. "Allatime keep mouthshut my. No ask my. No tell my. Allatime buy, sell my. No savvy my. "

It was evident that nothing was to be learned here of the intentions ofthe two strangers; so, grasping his bundle, Johnny lifted the latch andfound himself out in the silent, deserted alley. 

The air was kind to his heated brow. As he took the first few steps hiscostume troubled him. He was wearing the parka and the corduroytrousers. He felt no longer the slight tug of puttees about his ankles. His trousers flapped against his legs at every step. The hood heated theback of his neck. The fur trousers and the skin boots were in the bundleunder his arm. His soldier's uniform he had left with the keeper of thehidden clothes shop. He hardly thought that anyone, save a very personalacquaintance, would recognize him in his new garb, and there was littlechance of such a meeting at this hour of the night. However, he gavethree American officers, apparently returning from a late party of somesort, a wide berth, and dodging down a narrow street, made his waytoward the railway yards where he would find the drowsy comforts of thecaboose of the "Reindeer Special. "

 * * * * *

"American, ain't y'?" A sergeant of the United States army addressedthis question to Johnny. 

The latter was curled up half asleep in a corner of the caboose of the"Reindeer Special" which had been bumping over the rails for some time. 

"Ya-a, " he yawned. 

"Going north to trade, I s'pose?"

Johnny was tempted not to answer. Still, he was not yet out of thewoods. 

"Yep, " he replied cheerfully. "Red fox, white fox, mink, squirrel, ermine, muskrat. Mighty good price. "

"Where's your pack?" The sergeant half grinned. 

Johnny sat up and stared. No, it was not that he had had a pack and lostit. It was that he had never had a pack. And traders carried packs. Whyto be sure; things to trade for furs. 

"Pack?" he said confusedly. "Ah-er, yes. Why, yes, my pack, of course, why I left it; no--hang it! Come to think of it, I'm getting that at theend of this line, Khabarask, you know. "

Johnny studied the old sergeant through narrowing eyelids. He had givenhim a ten spot before the train rattled from the yards. Was that enough?Would any sum be enough? Johnny shivered a little. The man was an oldregular, a veteran of many battles not given in histories. Was he oneof those who took this motto: "Anything's all right that you can getaway with?" Johnny wondered. It might be, just might be, that Johnnywould go back on this same train to Vladivostok; and that, Johnny had nodesire to do. 

The sergeant's eyes closed for a wink of sleep. Johnny looked furtivelyabout the car. The three other occupants were asleep. He drew a fat rollof American bills from his pocket. From the very center he extracted awell worn one dollar bill. Having replaced the roll, he smoothed out the"one spot" and examined it closely. Across the face of it was a purplestamp. In the circle of this stamp were the words, "Wales, Alaska. " Asmile spread over Johnny's shrewd, young face. 

"Yes sir, there you are, li'l ol' one-case note, " he whispered. "Youcome all the way from God's country, from Alaska to Vladivostok, all byyourself. I don't know how many times you changed hands before you gothere, but here you are, and it took you only four months to come. Staywith me, little old bit of Uncle Sam's treasure, and I'll take youhome; straight back to God's country. "

He folded the bill carefully and stowed it in an inner pocket, next tohis heart. 

If the missionary postmistress at Cape Prince of Wales, on BehringStrait, had realized what homesick feelings she was going to stir up inJohnny's heart by impressing her post office stamp on that bill beforeshe paid it to some Eskimo, perhaps she would not have stamped it, andthen again, perhaps she would. 

A sudden jolt as they rumbled on to a sidetrack awoke the sergeant, whoseemed disposed to resume the conversation where he had left off. 

"S'pose it's mighty dangerous tradin' on this side?"

"Uh-huh, " Johnny grunted. 

"S'pose it's a long way back to God's country this way?"

"Uh-huh. "

"Lot of the boys mighty sick of soldiering over here. Lot of 'em 'ud tryit back to God's country 'f 'twasn't so far. "

"Would, huh?" Johnny yawned. 

"Ye-ah, and then the officers are mighty hard on the ones theyketch--ketch desertin', I mean--officers are; when they ketch 'em, an'they mostly do. "

"Do what?" Johnny tried to yawn again. 

"Ketch 'em! They're fierce at that. "

There was a knowing grin on the sergeant's face, but no wink followed. Johnny waited anxiously for the wink. 

"But it's tough, now ain't it?" observed the sergeant. "We can't go homeand can't fight. What we here for, anyway?"

"Ye-ah, " Johnny smiled hopefully. 

"Expected to go home long ago, but no transportation, not before spring;not even for them that's got discharges and papers to go home. It'stough! You'd think a lot of 'em 'ud try goin' north to Alaska, wouldn'tyou? Three days in God's country's worth three years in Leavenworth;you'd think they'd try it. And they would, if 't'wasn't so far. Gad!Three thousand miles! I'd admire the pluck of the fellow that dared. "

This time the wink which Johnny had been so anxiously awaiting came; afull, free and frank wink it was. He winked back, then settled down inhis corner to sleep. 

A train rattled by. The "Reindeer Special" bumped back on the main trackand went crashing on its way. It screeched through little villages, halfburied in snow. It glided along between plains of whiteness. It rattledbetween narrow hills, but Johnny was unconscious of it all. He was fastasleep, storing up strength for the morrow, and the many wild to-morrowswhich were to follow. 

CHAPTER III

TREACHERY OUT OF THE NIGHT

Johnny moved restlessly beneath his furs. He had been dreaming, and inhis dream he had traveled far over scorching deserts, his steed a camel, his companions Arabs. In his dream he slept by night on the burningsand, with only a silken canopy above him. In his dream he had awakenedwith a sense of impending danger. A prowling tiger had wandered over thedesert, an Arab had proved treacherous--who knows what? The feeling, after all, had been only of a vague dread. 

The dream had wakened him, and now he lay staring into utter darknessand marveling that the dream was so much like the reality. He wastraveling over barren wastes with a caravan; had been for three days. But the waste they crossed was a waste of snow. His companions werenatives--who like the Arabs, lived a nomadic life. Their steeds theswift footed reindeer, their tents the igloos of walrus and reindeerskins, they roamed over a territory hundreds of miles in extent. To oneof these "fleets of the frozen desert, " Johnny had attached himselfafter leaving the train. 

It had been a wonderful three days that he had spent in his journeyingnorthward. These Chukches of Siberia, so like the Eskimos of Alaska thatone could distinguish them only by the language they spoke, lived aromantic life. Johnny had entered into this life with all the zest ofyouth. True, he had found himself very awkward in many things and hadbeen set aside with a growled, "Dezra" (that is enough), many times buthe had persevered and had learned far more about the ways of thesenomads of the great, white north than they themselves suspected. 

During those three days Johnny's eyes had been always on the job. He hadnot traveled a dozen miles before he had made a thorough study of thereindeer equipment. This, indeed, was simple enough, but the simplerone's equipment, the more thorough must be one's knowledge of itshandling. The harness of the deer was made of split walrus skin andwood. Simple wooden hames, cut to fit the shoulders of the deer and tiedtogether with a leather thong, took the place of both collar and hamesof other harnesses. From the bottom of these hames ran a broad strap ofleather. This, passing between both the fore and hind legs of the deer, was fastened to the sled. A second broad strap was passed around thedeer's body directly behind the fore legs. This held the pulling strapabove the ground to prevent the reindeer from stepping over his trace. In travel, in spite of this precaution, the deer did often step over thetrace. In such cases, the driver had but to seize the draw strap andgive it a quick pull, sending the sled close to the deer's heels. Thisgave the draw straps slack and the deer stepped over the trace again tohis proper place. 

The sleds were made of a good quality of hard wood procured from theriver forests or from the Russians, and fitted with shoes of steel or ofwalrus ivory cut in thin strips. The sleds were built short, broad andlow. This prevented many a spill, for as Johnny soon learned, thereindeer is a cross between a burro and an ox in his disposition, and, once he has scented a rich bed of mosses and lichens, on which he feeds, he takes on the strength and speed of an ox stampeding for a water holein the desert, and the stubbornness of a burro drawn away from hisfavorite thistle. 

The deer were driven by a single leather strap; the old, old jerk strapof the days of ox teams. Johnny had demanded at once the privilege ofdriving but he had made a sorry mess of it. He had jerked the strap tomake the deer go more slowly. This really being the signal for greaterspeed, the deer had bolted across the tundra, at last spilling Johnnyand his load of Chukche plunder over a cutbank. This procedure did notplease the Chukches, and Johnny was not given a second opportunity todrive. He was compelled to trot along beside the sleds or, back to backwith one of his fellow travelers, to ride over the gleaming whitenessthat lay everywhere. 

It was at such times as these that Johnny had ample opportunity to studythe country through which they passed. Lighted as it was by a gloriousmoon, it presented a grand and fascinating panorama. To the right laythe frozen ocean, its white expanse cut here and there by a pool of saltwater pitchy black by contrast with the ice. To the left lay themountains extending as far as the eye could see, with their dark purpleshadows and triangles of light and seeming but another sea, thattempest-tossed and terrible had been congealed by the bitter northernblasts. 

When twelve hours of travel had been accomplished, and it had beenproposed that they camp for the night, Johnny had been quite free tooffer his assistance in setting up the tents. In this he had been evenless successful than in his performance with the reindeer. He had setthe igloo poles wrong end up and, when these had been righted, hadspread the long haired deerskin robes, which were to serve as the innerlining of the shelters, hair side out, which was also wrong. He had oncemore been relegated to the background. This time he had not cared, forit gave him an opportunity to study his fellow travelers. They were forthe most part a dark and sullen bunch. Not understanding Johnny'slanguage, they did not attempt to talk with him, but certain gloomyglances seemed to tell him that, though his money had been accepted bythem, there was still some secret reason why he might have beentraveling in safer company. 

This, however, was more a feeling than an idea based on any overt act ofthe natives, and Johnny tried to shake it off. That he might do thismore quickly, he gave himself over to the study of these strange nomads. Their dress was a one-piece suit made of short haired deer skins. Men, women and children dressed alike, with the exception that very smallchildren were sewed into their garments, hands, feet and all and werestrapped on the sleds like bundles. 

The food was strange to the American. One needed a good appetite toenjoy it. Great twenty-five pound white fish were produced from skinbags and sliced off to be eaten raw. Reindeer meat was stewed in copperkettles. Hard tack was soaked in water and mixed with reindeer suet. Teafrom the ever present Russian tea kettle and seal oil from a sewed upseal skin took the place of drink and relish. The tea was good, theseal oil unspeakable, a liquid not even to be smelled of by a white man, let alone tasted. 

By the second day Johnny had found himself confining his associations toone person, who, to all appearances, was a fellow passenger, and not amember of the tribe. He had learned to pitch his own igloo and hers. Notfive hours before he had hewn away a hard bank of snow and built there ashelf for his bed. When his igloo was completed he had erected a secondnot many feet away. This was for his fellow passenger. In case anythingshould happen he felt that he would like to be near her, and she hadshown by many little signs that she shared his feelings in this. 

"In case something happened, " Johnny reflected drowsily. He had afeeling that, sooner or later, something was going to happen. There wassomething altogether mysterious about the actions of these Chukches, especially one great sullen fellow, who had come skulking about Johnny'sigloo just before he had turned in. 

These natives were supposed to be trustworthy, but Johnny had hismisgivings and was on his guard. They had come in contact withRussians, perhaps also with Orientals, and had learned treachery. 

"And yet, " thought Johnny, "what could they want from me? I paid themwell for my transportation. They sold their reindeer to the Americanarmy for a fat price. They would be more than greedy if they wantedmore. "

Nevertheless, the air of mystery hung about him like a dark cloud. Hecould not sleep. And not being able to sleep, he meditated. 

He had already begun the eternal round of thoughts that will revolvethrough a fellow's brain at night, when he heard a sound--the soft crushof a skin boot in the snow it seemed. He listened and thought he heardit again, this time more distinctly, as if the person were approachinghis igloo. A chill crept up and down his spine. His right handinvoluntarily freed itself from the furs and sought the cold hilt of theRussian knife. He had his army automatic, but where there are many earsto hear a shot, a knife is better. 

"What an ideal trap for treachery, this igloo! A villain need but creepthrough tent-flaps, pause for a breath, then stealthily lift the deerskin curtain. A stab or a shot, and all would be ended. " These thoughtssped through Johnny's mind. 

Scarcely breathing, he waited for other signs of life abroad at thathour of night--a night sixteen hours long. He heard nothing. 

Finally, his mind took up again the endless chain of thought. He hadarrived safely at Khabarask, the terminus of the Russian line. Here hehad remained for three days, half in hiding, until the "ReindeerSpecial" had completed its loading and had started on its southernjourney to the waiting doughboys. During those three days he had madetwo startling discoveries; the short Russian of the broad shoulders andsharp chin, he of the envelope of diamonds, was in Khabarask. Johnny hadseen him in an eating place, and had had an opportunity to study himwithout being observed. The man, he concluded, although a total strangerin these parts, was a person of consequence, a leader of some sort, accustomed to being obeyed. There seemed a brutal certainty about theway he ordered the servants of the place to do his bidding. There was aconstant wrinkle of a frown between his eyes. A man, perhaps without asense of humor, he would force every issue to the utmost. Once given anidea, he would override all obstacles to carry it through, not stoppingat death, or at many deaths. This had been Johnny's mental analysis ofthe character of the man, and at once he began to half hate and halfadmire him. He had lost sight of him immediately, and had not discoveredhim again. Whether the Russian had left town before the native band did, Johnny could not tell. But, if he had moved on, where did he go?

The other shock was similar in character. The woman who had bought fursfor the North had also been in Khabarask. Whether she was a JapaneseJohnny was not prepared to say, and that in spite of the fact that hehad studied her carefully for five days. She might be a Chukche who, through some strange impulse, had been led south to seek culture andeducation. He doubted that. She might be an Eskimo from Alaska makingher way north to cross Behring Strait in the spring. He doubted thatalso. Finally she might be a Japanese woman, but in that case, whatcould be the explanation of her presence here, some two hundred milesnorth of the last vestige of civilization?

Now, not ten feet from the spot where Johnny lay in an igloo assignedfor her private use by the natives, that identical girl slept at thismoment. Only four hours before, Johnny had bade her good night, after anenjoyable repast of tea, reindeer meat and hard bread prepared by herown hand over a small wood fire. It was she who was his fellowpassenger, whose igloo he had erected, close to his own. Yes, there wasmystery enough about the whole situation to keep any fellow awake; yetJohnny hated himself for not sleeping. He felt that the time was comingwhen he would need stored strength. 

He had half dosed off when a sound very close at hand, within the wallsof canvas he thought, started him again into wakefulness. His arm readyand free for action, he lay still. His breathing well regulated andeven, as in sleep, he watched through narrow slit eyes the deer skincurtain rise, and a head appear. The ugly shaved head of a Chukche itwas; and in the intruder's hand was a knife. 

The knife startled Johnny. He could not believe his eyes. He thought hewas seeing double; yet he did not move. 

Slowly, silently the arm of the native rose until it hung over Johnny'sheart. In a second it would--

In that second something happened. There came a deadly thwack. Thenative, without a cry, fell backward beyond the curtain. His knife shotoutward too, and stuck hilt downward in the snow. 

Johnny drew himself slowly from beneath the furs. Lifting the deer skincurtain cautiously, he looked out. Then he chuckled a cold, dry chuckle. His knuckles were bloody, for the only weapon he had used was that trulyAmerican weapon, a clenched fist. Johnny, as I have suggested before, was somewhat handy with his "dukes. " His left was a bit out of repairjust now, but his right was quite all right, as the crumpled heap of aman testified. 

Johnny bent over the man and twisted his head about. No, his neck wasnot broken. Johnny was thankful for that. He hated to see dead peopleeven when they richly deserved to die. 

Then he turned to the knife. He started again, as he extricated thehilt from the snow. But there was no time for examining it. His earcaught a stifled cry, a woman's cry. It came, without a doubt, from theigloo of his fellow traveler, the woman. Hastily thrusting his knife inhis belt, he threw back the tentflap and crossed the interveningsnowpatch in three strides. 

He threw back the canvas just in time to seize a second native by thehood of his deer skin parka. He whirled the man completely about, tossedhim high in the air, then struck him as he was coming down; struck himin the same place he had hit the other, only harder, very much harder. He did not examine him later for a broken neck, either. 

Turning, Johnny saw the woman staring at him. Evidently she had slept inher furs. As she stood there now, she seemed quite equal to the task ofcaring for herself. There was a muscular sturdiness about her whichJohnny had failed to notice before. In her hand gleamed a wicked lookingdagger with a twisted blade. 

But that she had been caught unawares, there could be no question, andfrom the kindly flash in her eyes Johnny read the fact that she wasgrateful for her deliverance. 

He threw one glance at the other igloos. Standing there casting dark, purple shadows, they were strangely silent. Apparently these twomurderers had been appointed to accomplish the task alone. The otherswere asleep. For this Johnny was thankful. 

Turning to the woman he said sharply:

"Gotta git outa here. You, me, savvy?"

"Savvy, " she replied placidly. 

Seizing her fur bag of small belongings, Johnny hastened before her towhere the sled deer were tethered. Two sleds were still loaded, one withan unused igloo and deerskins, the other with food. To each of theseJohnny hastily harnessed a reindeer. Then whipping out his knife, he cutthe tether of all the other deer. They would follow; it was the way ofreindeer. 

Johnny smiled. These extra deer would spell the others and quickentravel. In case of need, they could be killed for food. Besides, if theyhad no deer, the treacherous natives could not follow. They would beobliged to return to the Russian town they had left and make a newstart, and by that time--Johnny patted his chest where reposed the billwith the Alaskan stamp on it, and murmured:

"Stay with me li'l' ol' one-spot, and I'll take you home. "

He cast one more glance toward the igloos. Not a soul had stirred. 

"We're off, " he exclaimed, leaping on his sled and slapping his reindeeron the thigh with the jerkstrap. 

"Yes, " the Jap girl smiled as she followed his example. 

Johnny thought they were "off, " but it took only an instant to tell thatthey were not. His deer cut a circle and sent him gliding away over thesnows. Fortunately he held to his jerkstrap and at last succeeded instopping the animal's mad rush. 

The Jap girl smiled again as she took the jerkstrap from his hand andtied it down short to her own sled. Then she leaped upon her sled againand, with some cooing words spoke to her reindeer. The deer tossed hisantlers and trotted quietly away, leaving Johnny to spring upon his ownsled and ride in increasing wonderment over the long glistening miles. 

When they had traveled for eight hours without a pause and without abalk, the Jap girl allowed her deer to stop. She loosened the draw strapand, turning the animal about, tied him by a long line to the sled, thathe might paw moss from beneath the snow in a wide circle. 

"How--how'd you know how to drive?" Johnny stammered. 

"Never before so, " she smiled. 

"You mean you never drove a reindeer?"

"Before now, no. Hungry you?" The Jap girl smiled, as if to say, "Enoughabout that, let's eat. "

It was a royal meal they ate together, those two there beneath theArctic moon. This Jap girl was a wonder, Johnny felt that, and he was tolearn it more certainly as the days passed. 

Three days later he sat upon a robe of deer skin. The corners of therobe were drawn up over his shoulders. A shelter of deer skins andwalrus skins, hastily improvised by him during the beginning of aterrible blizzard which came howling down from the north, was ample tokeep the wind from driving the biting snow into their faces, but itcould hardly keep out the cold. In spite of that, the Jap girl, buriedin deer skins, with her back against his, was sleeping soundly. Johnnywas sleeping bolt upright with one ear awake. His reindeer were picketedclose to the improvised igloo. Other nights, they had taken turnswatching to protect them from prowling wolves, but this night no onecould long withstand the numbing cold of the blizzard. So he watched andhalf slept. Now he caught the rising howl of the wind, and now felt itslull as the deer skins sagged. But what was this? Was there a differentnote, a howl that was not of the wind?

Shaking himself into entire wakefulness, Johnny sat bolt upright andlistened intently. Yes, there it was again. A wolf beyond doubt, as yetsome distance away, but coming toward them with the wind. 

A wolf, a single one, was not all menace. If he could be shot before hisfangs tore at the flesh of a reindeer, there would be gain. He would befood, and at the present moment there was no food. The Jap girl did notknow it, but Johnny did. Not a fish, not a hunk of venison, not a pilotbiscuit was on their sled. They would soon be reduced to the necessityof killing and eating one of their deer, unless, unless--the howl camemore plainly and strangely enough with it came the crack crack of hoofs. 

Johnny sprang to his feet. What could that crack cracking of hoofs mean?Had one of his deer already broken his tether?

With automatic in hand, he was out in the storm in an instant. Even ashe became accustomed to the dim light, he saw a skulking form driftingdown with the wind. Dropping upon his stomach, he took deliberate aimand fired. There was a howl of agony but still the creature came on. Another shot and it turned over tearing at the whirling snow. 

Johnny jumped to his feet. "Eats, " he murmured. 

But then there came that other sound again, the crack crack of hoofs. Hepeered through the swirling snow, counting his reindeer. They were allthere. Here was a mystery. It was not long in solving. He had but toglance to the south of his reindeer to detect some dark object bulkinglarge in the night. 

"A deer!" he muttered. "A wild reindeer! What luck!"

It was true. The wolf had doubtless been stalking him. Creepingstealthily forward, foot by foot, Johnny was at last within easy rangeof the creature. His automatic cracked twice in quick succession and amoment later he was exulting over two hundred pounds of fresh meat, foodfor many days. 

Twenty hours later, Johnny found himself sitting sleepily on the edge ofone of the deer sleds. The reindeer, unhitched and tethered, weredigging beneath the snow for moss. The storm had subsided and once morethey had journeyed far. The Jap girl was buried deep beneath the furs onthe other sled. 

Johnny was puzzling his brain at this time over one thing. They hadfollowed a half covered, ancient trail due north for two days. Then afresh track had joined the old one. It was the track of a man with dogteam and sled. This they had followed due north again, and two hoursago, while the deer were resting and feeding, Johnny had detected theJap girl in the act of measuring the footprints of the man who drove thedog team. 

She had appeared troubled and embarrassed when she knew that he had seenwhat she was doing. Notwithstanding the fact that there had been no signof guilt or treachery in her frank brown eyes, Johnny had beenperplexed. What secret was she hiding from him? What did she know, orseek to know, about this man whose trail had joined theirs at an angle?Could it be? No, Johnny dismissed the thought which came to his mind. 

He had dismissed all his perplexities, and was about to abandon himselfto three winks of sleep, when something on the horizon attracted hisattention. A mere dot at first, it grew rapidly larger. 

"Dog team or reindeer on our trail, " he thought. "I wonder. "

From beneath his parka he drew his long blue automatic. After examiningits clip, he laid it down on the sled with two other clips beside it. Then he drew the two knives also from his belt; the one he had securedat the time of the street fight in Vladivostok, the other had belongedto the Chukche who had attacked him. For the twentieth time he notedthat they were exactly alike, blade forging, hilt carving, and all. Andagain, this realization set him to speculating. How had this brace ofknives got so widely separated? How had this one found its way to theheart of a Chukche tribe? Why had the Chukches attempted to murder theJapanese girl and himself? Had it been with the hope of securing wealthfrom their simple luggage, or had they been bribed to do it? Once morehis brain was in a whirl. 

But there was business at hand. The black spot had developed into areindeer, driven by a man. How many were following this man Johnny couldnot tell. 

CHAPTER IV

A NARROW ESCAPE

As Johnny stood awaiting the arrival of the stranger, many wildmisgivings raced through his mind. What if this man was but theforerunner of the whole Chukche tribe? Then indeed, for himself and theJapanese girl things were at an end. 

The newcomer was armed with a rifle. Johnny would stand little show withhim in a duel, good as his automatic was. 

But the man came on with a jaunty swing that somehow was reassuring. Whocould he be? As he came close, he dropped his rifle on his sled andapproached with empty hands. 

"I am Iyok-ok, " he said in good English, at the same time thrusting outhis hand. "I was an American soldier, an Eskimo. Now I am going back tomy home at Cape Prince of Wales. "

"You got your discharge easily, " smiled Johnny. 

"Not so easy, but I got it. "

"Well, anyway, stranger, " said Johnny gripping the other's hand, "I cangive you welcome, comrade. We are traveling the same way. "

The Eskimo looked at Johnny's regulation army shoes as he said the wordcomrade, but made no comment. 

"Know anything about travel in such a country?" asked Johnny. 

"Most things you need to know. "

"Then you sure are welcome, " Johnny declared. Then, as he looked at theEskimo closely there came to him a feeling that they had met before butwhere and when he could not recall. He did not mention the fact, butmerely motioned the stranger to a seat on the sled while he dug into hispack for a morsel of good cheer. 

Many days later, Johnny lay sprawled upon a double thickness of longhaired deer skins. He was reading a book. Two seal oil lamps sputteredin the igloo, but these were for heat, not for light. Johnny got hislight in the form of a raggedly round patch of sunlight which fellstraight down from the top where the poles of the igloo met. 

Johnny was very comfortable physically, but not entirely at easementally. He had been puzzled by something that had happened fiveminutes before. Moreover, he was half angry at his enforced idlenesshere. 

Yet he was very comfortable. The igloo was a permanent one. Erected atthe base of a cliff, covered over with walrus skin, lined with deerskin, and floored with planks hewn from driftwood logs, it was perfectfor a dwelling of its kind. It stood in a hunting village on theSiberian shore of Behring Sea. The Jap girl, Johnny and Iyok-ok hadtraveled thus far in safety. 

Yes, they had come a long distance, many hundreds of miles. As Johnnythought of it now, he put his book aside (a dry, old novel, left here bysome American seaman) and dreamed those days all through again. 

Wonderful days had followed the addition of Iyok-ok to their party. Fromthat hour they had wanted nothing of food or shelter. Reared as heapparently had been in such wilds as these, the native skillfully hadsought out the best of game, the driest, most sheltered of campingspots, in fact, had done everything that tended to make life easy insuch a land. 

Johnny's reveries were cut short and he started suddenly to his feet. Apebble had dropped squarely upon the deer skin spread out before him. Ithad come through the hole in the peak of the igloo. He glanced quicklyup, but saw nothing. 

Then he grinned. "Just a case of nerves, I guess. Some kids playing onthe cliff. Anyway, I'll investigate, " he said to himself. 

Throwing back the deerskin flap, he stepped outside. Did he see a bootdisappear around the point of the cliff above the igloo? He could nottell. At any rate, there was no use wasting more time on the question. To see farther around the cliff, one must climb up its rough face, andby that time any mischief maker might have disappeared. 

Yet Johnny stood there worried and puzzled. Twice in the last hourpebbles had rattled down upon the igloo, and now one had dropped inside. An old grievance stirred him: Why were not he and his strangecompanions on their way? With only four hundred miles to travel to EastCape, with a splendid trail, with reindeer well fed and rested, itseemed folly to linger in this native village. The reindeer Chukches, whose sled deer they had borrowed, might be upon them at any moment, andthat, Johnny felt sure, would result in an unpleasant mixup. Yet he hadbeen utterly unable to get the little Oriental girl and Iyok-ok to goon. Why? He could only guess. There were a great many other things hecould only guess at. The little Oriental girl's reason for going so farinto the wilderness was as much a secret as ever. He could only guessthat it had to do with the following of that mysterious driver of a dogteam. With unerring precision this man had pushed straight on northwardtoward East Cape and Behring Strait. And they had followed, not, so faras Johnny was concerned, because they were interested in him, butbecause he had traveled their way. 

At times they had come upon his camp. Located at the edge of some bankor beside some willow clump, where there was shelter from the wind, these camps told little or nothing of the man who had made them. Everything which might tell tales had been carried on or burned. Onceonly Johnny had found a scrap of paper. Nothing had been written on it. From it Johnny had learned one thing only: it had originally come fromsome Russian town, for it had the texture of Russian bond. But this waslittle news. 

Who was this stranger who traveled so far? Johnny had a feeling that hewas at the moment hiding in this native village, and that this was thereason his two companions did not wish to proceed. There had grown upbetween these two, the Eskimo boy and the Japanese girl, a strangefriendship. At times Johnny had suspicions that this friendship hadexisted before they had met on the tundra. However that might have been, they seemed now to be working in unison. Only the day before he hadhappened to overhear them conversing in low tones, and the language, hewould have sworn, was neither Eskimo, English, nor Pidgen. Yet he didnot question the boy's statement that he was an American Eskimo. Indeedthere were times when the flash of his honest smile made Johnny believethat they had met somewhere in America. On his trip to Nome andFairbanks before the war, Johnny had met many Eskimos, and had boxed andwrestled with some of the best of them. 

"Oh, well, " he sighed, and stretched himself, "'tain't that I've got astring on 'em, nor them on me. I'll have to wait or go on alone, that'sall. "

He entered the igloo, and tried again to become interested in his book, but his mind kept returning to the strange friendship which had grown upbetween the three of them, Iyok-ok, the Jap girl and himself. The Japgirl had proved a good sport indeed. She might have ridden all the time, but she walked as far in a day as they did. She cooked their mealscheerfully, and laughed over every mishap. 

So they had traveled northward. Three happy children in a great whitewilderness, they pitched their igloos at night, a small one for thegirl, a larger one for the two men, and, burying themselves beneath thedeer skins, had slept the dreamless sleep of children, wearied fromplay. 

The Jap girl had appeared to be quite content to be going into anunknown wilderness. Only once she had seemed concerned. That was when along detour had taken them from the track of the unknown traveler, buther cheerfulness had returned once they had come upon his track again. This had set Johnny speculating once more. Who was this stranger? Was herelated to the girl in some way? Was he her friend or her foe? Was hereally in this village at this time? If so, why did she not seek himout? If a friend, why did she not join him; and, if an enemy, why nothave him killed? Surely, here they were quite beyond the law. 

Oh, yes, Johnny might get a dog team and go on up the coast alone, butJohnny liked his two traveling companions too well for that, andbesides, Johnny dearly loved mysteries, and here was a whole nest ofthem. No, Johnny would wait. 

The seal oil lamps imparted a drowsy warmth to the igloo. The deer skinswere soft and comfortable. Johnny grew sleepy. Throwing the ragged oldbook in the corner, he stretched out full length on the skins, which layin the irregular circle of light, and was soon fast asleep. 

Just how long he slept he could not tell. When he awoke it was with afeeling of great peril tugging at his heart. His first conscious thoughtwas that the aperture above him had, in some way, been darkened. Instantly his eyes sought that opening. What he saw there caused hisheart to pause and his eyes to bulge. 

Directly above him, seemingly poised for a drop, was a vicious lookinghook. With a keen point and a barb fully three inches across, with ashaft of half-inch steel which was driven into a pole three inches indiameter and of indefinite length, it could drive right through Johnny'sstomach, and pin him to the planks beneath. And, as his startled eyesstared fixedly at it, the thing shot downward. 

CHAPTER V

"FRIEND? ENEMY?"

Johnny Thompson, before he joined the army, had been considered one ofthe speediest men of the boxing ring. His brain worked like lightning, and every muscle in his body responded instantly to its call. Johnny hadnot lost any of his speed. It was well that he had not, for, like aspinning car-wheel, he rolled over twice before the hook buried itselfto the end of its barb in the pungent plank on which he had reclined aninstant before. 

Nor did Johnny stop rolling then. He continued until he bumped againstthe skin wall of his abode. This was fortunate also, for he had not halfregained his senses when two almost instantaneous explosions shook theigloo, tore the plank floor into shreds, shooting splinters about, andeven through the double skin wall, and filling Johnny's eyes with powdersmoke and dust. 

Johnny sat up with one hand on his automatic. He was fully awake. 

"Is that all?" he drawled. "Thanks! It's enough, I should say. JohnnyThompson exit. " A wry grin was on his face. "Johnny Thompson killed by afalling whale harpoon; shot to death by a whale gun; blown to atoms by awhale bomb. Exit Johnny. They do it in the movies, I say!"

But that was not quite all. The blazing seal oil lamps had overturned. Splinters from the floor were catching fire. Johnny busied himself atbeating these out. As soon as this had been accomplished, he steppedoutside. 

From an awe-struck ring of native women and children, who had beenattracted by the explosion, the little Jap girl darted. 

"Oh, Meester Thompsie!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands, "so terrible, awful a catastrophe! Are you not killed? So terrible!"

Johnny grinned. 

"Nope, " he said, putting out a hand to console her. "I'm not killed, noreven blown to pieces. What I'd like to know is, who dropped thatharpoon. "

He looked from face to face of the silent circle. Not one showed a signof any knowledge of the affair. They had heard the explosion and had runfrom their homes to see what had happened. 

Turning toward the cliff, from which the harpoon had been dropped, Johnny studied it carefully. No trace of living creature was to bediscovered there. Then he looked again at the circle of brown faces, seeking any recent arrival. There was none. 

"Come!" he said to the Jap girl. 

Taking her hand, he led her from house to house of the village. Beyondtwo to three old women, too badly crippled to walk, the houses werefound to contain no one. 

"Well, one thing is sure, " Johnny observed, "the Chukche reindeerherders have not come. It was not they who did it. "

"No, " answered the Jap girl. 

"Say!" exclaimed Johnny, in a tone more severe than he had ever usedwith his companion, "why in thunder can't we get out of this hole? Whatare we sticking here for?"

"Can't tell. " The girl wrung her hands again. "Can't tell. Can't go, that's all. You go; all right, mebby. Can't go my. That's all. Mebby goto-morrow; mebby next day. Can't tell. "

Johnny was half inclined to believe that she was in league with thetreachery which hung over the place, and had shown itself in the form ofloaded harpoons, but when he realized that she did not urge him to stay, he found it impossible to suspect her. 

"Well, anyway, darn it!"

"What?" she smiled. 

"Oh, nothing, " he growled, and turned away. 

Two hours later Johnny was lying on the flat ledge of the rocky clifffrom which the harpoon had been dropped. He was, however, a hundred feetor more down toward the bay. He was watching a certain igloo, and at thesame time keeping an eye on the shore ice. Iyok-ok had gone sealhunting. When he returned over the ice, Johnny meant to have a finalconfab with him in regard to starting north. 

As to the vigil he kept on the igloo, that was the result of certainsuspicions regarding the occupants of that particular shelter. There wasa dog team which hung about the place. These dogs were larger andsleeker than the other animals of the village. Their fights with otherdogs were more frequent and severe. That would naturally mark them asstrangers. Johnny had made several journeys of a mile or two up and downthe beach trail, and, as far as he could tell, the man of mystery whosetrail they had followed to this village had not left the place. 

"Of course, " he had told himself, "he might have been one of thevillagers returning to his home. But that doesn't seem probable. "

From all this, Johnny had arrived at the conclusion that the watching ofthis house would yield interesting results. 

It did. He had not been lying on the cliff half an hour, when the figureof a man came backing out of the igloo's entrance. Johnny whistled. Hewas sure he had seen that pair of shoulders before. And the parka theman wore; it was not of the very far north. There was a smoothness aboutthe tan and something about the cut of it that marked it at once ascoming from a Russian shop, such as Wo Cheng kept. 

"And squirrel skin!" Johnny breathed. 

He was not kept long in doubt as to the identity of the wearer. As theman turned to look behind him, Johnny saw the sharp chin of the Russian, the man of the street fight and the many diamonds. He had acquiredsomething of a beard, but there was no mistaking those frowning brows, square shoulders and that chin. 

"So, " Johnny thought, "he is the fellow we have been trailing. The Japgirl wanted to follow him and so, perhaps, did Iyok-ok. I wonder why?And say, old dear, " he whispered, "I wonder if it could have been youwho dropped that harpoon. It's plain enough from the looks of you thatyou'd do it, once you fancied you'd half a reason. I've a good mind--"His hand reached for his automatic. 

"No, " he decided, "I won't do it. I don't really know that you deserveit; besides I hate corpses, and things like that. But I say!"

A new and wonderful thought had come to him. He felt that, at any rate, he owed this person something, and he should have it. Beside Johnny onthe ledge, where some native had left it, out of reach of the dog's, wasa sewed up seal skin full of seal oil. To the native of the north sealoil is what Limburger cheese is to a Dutchman. He puts it away in skinsacks to bask in the sun for a year or more and ripen. This particularsackful was "ripe"; it was over ripe and had been for some time. Johnnycould tell that by the smooth, balloon-like rotundity of the thing. Infact, he guessed it was about due to burst. Once Johnny had taken a cupof this liquid for tea. He had it close enough to his face to catch awhiff of it. He could still recall the smell of it. 

Now his right hand smoothed the bloated skin tenderly. He twisted itabout, and balanced it in his hand. Yes, he could do it! The Russian wasnot looking up. There was a convenient ledge, some three feet above hishead. There the sack would strike and burst. The boy smiled, incontemplation of that bursting. 

"This for what you may have done, " Johnny whispered, and balancing thesack in his hand, as if it had been a football, he gave it a littletoss. Over the cliff it went to a sheer fall of fifteen feet. Therefollowed a muffled explosion. It had burst! Johnny saw the Russiancompletely deluged with the vile smelling liquid. Then he ducked. 

As he lay flat on the ledge, he caught a silvery laugh. Looking quicklyabout, he found himself staring into the eyes of the little Jap girl. She had been watching him. 

"You--you--know him?" he stammered. 

The girl shrugged her shoulders. 

"Your friend?"

She shook her head vigorously. 

"Enemy? Kill?" Johnny's hand sought his automatic. 

"No! No! No!" she fairly screamed. "Not kill!" Her hand was on his armwith a frantic grip. 

"Why?"

"No can tell. Only, not kill; not kill now. No! No! No! Mebby never!"

"Well, I'll be--" Johnny took his hand from his gun and peered over theledge. The man was gone. It was a dirty trick he had played. He halfwished he had not done it. And yet, the Jap girl had laughed. She knewwhat the man was. She had been close enough to have stopped him, had shethought it right. She had not done so. His conscience was clear. 

They crept away in the gathering darkness, these two; and Johnnysuddenly felt for this little Jap girl a comradeship that he had notknown before. It was such a feeling as he had experienced in schooldays, when he was prowling about with boy pals. 

Shortly after darkness had fallen, Johnny was seated cross-legged on adeer skin, staring gloomily at the ragged hole left by the whale harpoonbomb. He had not yet seen Iyok-ok. He was trying now to unravel some ofthe mysteries which the happenings of the day had served only to tanglemore terribly. He had not meant to kill the Russian, even though the Japgirl had told him to; Johnny did not kill people, unless it was indefense of his country or his life. He had been merely trying the Japgirl out. He was obliged to admit now that he had got nowhere. She hadlaughed when he had played that abominable trick on the Russian; haddenied that the stranger was her friend, yet had at once become greatlyexcited when Johnny proposed to kill him. What could a fellow make ofall this? Who was this Jap girl anyway, and why had she followed thisRussian so far? Somehow, Johnny could not help but feel that the Russianwas a deep dyed plotter of some sort. He was inclined to believe that hehad had much to do with that harpoon episode as well as the murderattempted by the reindeer Chukches. 

"By Jove!" the American boy suddenly slapped his knee. "The knife, thetwo knives exactly alike. One he tried to use in the street fight atVladivostok; the other he must have given to the reindeer Chukche to useon anyone who might follow him. "

For a time he sat in deep thought. As he weighed the probabilities forand against this theory, he found himself doubting. There might be manyknives of this pattern. The knife might have been stolen from him by theChukche, or the Russian might have given it to the native as a rewardfor service, having no idea to what deadly purposes it would be put. And, again, if he were that type of plotter, would not the Jap girl knowof it, and desire him killed?

The Japanese girl puzzled Johnny more and more. Her friendship forIyok-ok, her eagerness to protect the Russian--what was to be made ofall this? Were the three of them, after all, leagued together in deedsof darkness? And was he, Johnny, a pawn to be sacrificed at the propermoment?

And the Russian, why was he traveling so far north? What possibleinterests could he have here? Was he, too, planning to cross the Straitto America? Or was he in search of wealth hidden away in this frozenland?

"The furs! I'll bet that's it!" Johnny slapped his knee. "This Russianhas come north to demand tribute for his government from the huntingChukches. They're rich in furs--mink, ermine, red, white, silver grayand black fox. A man could carry a fortune in them on one sled. Yes, sir! That's his business up here. "

But then, the diamonds? Again Johnny seemed to have reached the end of ablind alley in his thinking. Who could be so rash as to carry thousandsof dollars' worth of jewels on such a trip? And yet, he was not certainthe man had them now. He had seen them but once, and that in thedisguise shop. 

Further thoughts were cut short by a head thrust in at the flap of theigloo. It was Iyok-ok. 

"Go soon, " he smiled. "Mebby two hours. "

"North?"

"Eh-eh" (yes), he answered, lapsing into Eskimo. 

"All right. "

The head disappeared. 

"Well, anyway, my seal oil bath did some good, " Johnny remarked tohimself. "It jarred the old fox out of his lair and started him on hisway. "

He wondered a little about the Jap girl. Would she still travel withthem? These musings were cut short when he carried his bundle to thedeer sled. She was there to greet him with a broad smile. And so oncemore they sped away over the tundra in the moonlight. 

They had not gone five miles before Johnny had assured himself that oncemore the Russian and his dog team had preceded them. 

CHAPTER VI

"NOW I SHALL KILL YOU"

Johnny Thompson was at peace with the world. He was engaged in the mostdelightful of all occupations, gathering gold. He had often dreamed ofgathering gold. He had dreamed, too, of finding money strewn upon thestreet. But now, here he was, with one of these choice Russian knives, picking away at clumps of frozen earth and picking up, as they fell out, particles of gold. Some were tiny; many were large as a pea, and one hadbeen the size of a hickory nut. Now and again he straightened up toswing a pick into the frozen gravel which lay within the circle of lightmade by his pocket flashlight. After a few strokes he would throw downthe pick and begin breaking up the lumps. Every now and again, he wouldlift the small sack into which the lumps were dropped. It grew heavierevery moment. 

It was quite dark all about him; indeed, Johnny was nearly a hundredfeet straight into the heart of a cut bank, and, to start on thisstraight ahead drift, he had been obliged to lower himself into a shaftas into a well, a drop of fifteen feet or more. That the mine had otherdrifts he knew, but this one suited him. That it had another occupant healso knew, but this did not trouble him. He was too much interested inthe yellow glitter of real gold to think of danger. And he was halfdazed by the realization that there could be a gold mine like this inSiberia. Alaska had gold, plenty of it, of course, and he was now lessthan two hundred miles from Alaska, but he had never dreamed that thedreary slopes of the Kamchatkan Peninsula could harbor such wealth. Someone had been mining it, too, but that must have been months, perhapsyears, ago. The pick handles were rough with decay, the pans red withrust. 

Curiosity had led Johnny to this spot, a half mile from the nativevillage at the mouth of the Anadir River. He had been marooned again inthat village. They had covered three hundred miles on their lastjourney, then had come another pause. This time, though he did not evensee his dogs about the village, Johnny felt sure that the Russian hadonce more taken to hiding. 

Having nothing else to do, Johnny had followed a narrow track up theriver. The track had come to an end at the entrance to the mine. Thinking it merely a sort of crude cold storage plant for keeping meatfresh, he had let himself down to explore it. Increasing curiosity hadled him on until he had discovered the gold. Now he had quite forgottenthe person whose tracks led him to the spot. 

He was shocked into instant and vivid realization of peril by a coldpressure on his temple and a voice which said in the preciseness of aforeigner:

"Now I have you, sir. Now I shall kill you, sir. "

In that instant Johnny prepared himself for his final earthly sensation. He had recognized the voice of the Russian. 

There came a click, then a snap. The next instant the revolver which hadrested against his forehead struck the frozen roof of the mine. Theweapon had missed fire and, between turns of the cylinder, Johnny's goodright hand had struck out and up. 

The light snapped out, and in the midnight darkness of that icy cavernthe two grappled and fell. 

Had Johnny been in possession of the full power of his left arm, thebattle would have been over soon. As it was they rolled over and over, their bodies crushing frozen bits of pay-dirt, like twin rollers. Theystruggled for mastery. Each man realized that, unless some unforeseenpower intervened, defeat meant death. The Russian fought with thestubbornness of his race; fought unfairly too, biting and kicking whenopportunity permitted. Three times Johnny barely missed a blow on thehead which meant unconsciousness, then death. 

At last, panting, perspiring, bleeding and bruised, Johnny clamped hisright arm about his antagonist's neck and, flopping his body across hischest, lay there until the Russian's muscles relaxed. 

Sliding to a sitting position, the American began feeling about in thedark. At last, gripping a flashlight, he snapped it on. The face of theRussian revealed the fact that he was not unconscious. Johnny slid to aposition which brought each knee down upon one of the Russian's arms. Hewould take no chances with that man. 

Slowly Johnny flashed the light about, then, with a little exclamation, he reached out and gripped the handle of the Russian's revolver. 

"Now, " he mocked, "now I have you, sir. Now I shall kill you, sir. "

He had hardly spoken the words when a body hurled itself upon him, knocking the revolver from his hand and extinguishing the light. 

"So. There are others! Let them come, " roared Johnny, striking out withhis right in the dark. 

"Azeezruk nucky. " To his astonishment he recognized the voice ofIyok-ok. What he had said, in Eskimo, was, "It would be a bad thing tokill him, " meaning doubtless the Russian. 

"Azeezruk adocema" (he is a bad one), replied Johnny, throwing the lighton the sullen face of the Eskimo. 

"Eh-eh" (yes), the other agreed. 

"Then what in thunder!" Johnny exclaimed, falling back on English. "Hetried to kill me. Kill me! Do you understand? Why shouldn't I kill him?"

"No kill, " said the Eskimo stubbornly. 

Johnny sat and thought for a full three minutes. In that time, his bloodhad cooled. He was able to reason about the matter. In the army he hadlearned one rule: "If someone knows more about a matter than you do, follow his guidance, though, at the time, it seems dead wrong. "Evidently Iyok-ok knew more about this Russian than Johnny did. Then thething to do was to let the man go. 

Before releasing him, he searched him carefully. Beyond a fewuninteresting papers, a pencil, a cigaret case and a purse he foundnothing. Evidently the revolver had been his only weapon. 

As he searched the man, one peculiar question flashed through Johnny'smind; if the Russian had the envelope full of diamonds on his person, what should he do, take them or leave them? He was saved the necessityof a decision; they were not there. 

"Now, " said Johnny, seating himself on a rusty pan, as the Russian wentshuffling out of the mine, "tell me why you didn't let me kill him. "

"Can't tell, " was Iyok-ok's laconic reply. 

"Why?"

"Not now. Sometime, maybe. Not now. "

"Look here, " said Johnny savagely, "that man has tried to kill me orhave me killed, three times, is it not so?"

Iyok-ok did not answer. 

"First, " Johnny went on, "he induces the reindeer Chukches to try tokill me and furnishes them the knife to do it with. Eh?"

"Maybe. "

"Second, he drops a harpoon into my igloo and tries to harpoon me andblow me up. "

"Maybe. "

"And now he puts a revolver to my head and pulls the trigger. Still yousay 'No kill. ' What shall I make of that?"

"Canak-ti-ma-na" (I don't know), said the Eskimo. "No kill, that's all. "

Johnny was too much astonished and perplexed to say anything further. The two sat there for some time in silence. At last the Eskimo rose andmade his way toward the entrance. 

Johnny flashed his light about the place. He was looking for his sack ofgold. Suddenly he uttered an exclamation and put out his hand. What itgrasped was the envelope he had seen in the Russian's pocket at WoCheng's shop, the envelope of diamonds. And the diamonds were stillthere; he could tell that by the feel of the envelope. 

Hastily searching out his now insignificant treasure of gold, Johnnyplaced it with the envelope of diamonds in his inner pocket and hurriedfrom the mine. 

Darkness again found him musing over a seal oil lamp. He was not in avery happy mood. He was weary of orientalism and mystery. He longed forthe quiet of his little old town, Chicago. Wouldn't it be great to puthis feet under his old job and say, "Well, Boss, what's the dopeto-day?" Wouldn't it, though? And to go home at night to doll up in hisglad rags and call on Mazie. Oh, boy! It fairly made him sick to thinkof it. 

But, at last, his mind wandered back to the many mysteries which hadbeen straightened out not one bit by these events of the day. Here hewas traveling with two companions, a Jap girl and an Eskimo. Eskimo?Right there he began to wonder if Iyok-ok, as he called himself, wasreally an Eskimo after all. What if he should turn out to be a Japplaying the part of an Eskimo? Only that day Johnny had once more comeupon him suddenly to find him in earnest conversation with the Jap girl. And the language they had been using had sounded distinctly oriental. And yet, if he was a Jap, how did it come about that he spoke the Eskimolanguage so well?

Dismissing this question, his mind dwelt upon the events of the past fewdays. Twice he had been begged not to kill the Russian. This last timehe most decidedly would have been justified in putting a bullet into therascal's brain. He had been prevented from doing so by Iyok-ok. Why?

"Anyway, " he said to himself, yawning, "I'm glad I didn't do it. It'snasty business, this killing people. I couldn't very well tell such athing to Mazie; you can't tell such things to a woman, and I want totell her all about things over here. It's been a hard old life, but sofar I haven't done a single thing that I wouldn't be proud to tell herabout. No, sir, not one! I can say: 'Mazie, I did this and I did that, 'and Mazie'll say, 'Oh, Johnny! Wasn't that gr-ran-nd?'"

Johnny grinned as the thought of it and felt decidedly better. Afterall, what was the use of living if one was to live on and on and on andnever have any adventures worth the telling?

For some time he lay sprawled out before the lamp in silent reflection, then he sat up suddenly and pounded his knee. 

"By Jove! I'll bet that's it!" he exclaimed. 

He had happened upon a new theory regarding the Russian. It seemedprobable to him that this man, knowing of this gold mine, perhaps beingowner of it, had come north to determine its value and the advisabilityof opening it for operation in the spring. In these days, when the moneymarket of the world was gold hungry, that glittering, yellow metal wasof vast importance, especially to the warring factions of Russia. Surely, this seemed a plausible explanation. And if it was true then hecould hurry on up the coast, with or without his companions and make hisway home. 

"But then, " he said, perplexed again. He reached his hand into hispocket to draw out the envelope he had found in the mine. "But then, there's the diamonds. Would a man coming on such a journey bring suchtreasure with him? He couldn't trade them to the natives. They knowmoney well enough, but not diamonds. "

Johnny opened the envelope and shook it gently. Three stones fell intohis hand. They were of purest blue white, perfect stones and perfectlycut. A glance at the envelope showed him that it was divided into fournarrow compartments and that each compartment was filled with diamondswrapped in tissue paper. Only these three were unwrapped. 

Running his fingers down the outside of the compartments, he counted thejewels. 

"One hundred and four, " he breathed. "A king's ransom. Forty or fiftythousand dollars worth, anyway. Whew!"

Then he stared and his hand shook. His eye had fallen upon the stamp ofthe seal in the corner of the envelope. He knew that secret mark all toowell; had learned it from Wo Cheng. It was the stamp of the biggest andworst society of Radicals in all the world. 

"So!" Johnny whispered to himself. "So, Mr. Russian, you are a Radical, a red, a Nihilist, a communist, an anything-but-society-as-it-is guy. You want the world to cough up its dough and own nothing, and yet hereyou are carrying round the price of a farm in your vest pocket. " Hechuckled. "Some reformer, I'd say!"

But his next thought sobered him. What was he to do with all thatwealth? One of those stones would make Mazie happy for a lifetime. Butit wasn't his. He had no right to it. He could not do a thing he'd beashamed to tell Mazie and his old boss about. 

But, if they didn't belong to him, perhaps the diamonds didn't belong tothe Russian either. At any rate, the latter's disloyalty to his nationhad forfeited his right to own property. 

Even should this Russian be the rightful owner, Johnny could not verywell hunt him up and say: "Here, mister. You tried to kill meyesterday. Here are your diamonds. I found them in the mine. Pleasecount them and see if they are all there. "

Johnny grinned as he thought of that. There seemed to be nothing to dobut keep the stones, for the time being at least. 

"Anyway, " he said to himself as he rolled up in his deer skins. "I'llbet I have discovered something. I'll bet he's one of the big ones, perhaps the biggest of them all. And he's trying to make his way acrossto America to stir things up over there. "

CHAPTER VII

SAVED FROM THE MOB

"What do you know about that gold mine?" Johnny asked, turning aninquiring eye on Iyok-ok, whom Johnny now strongly suspected of being aJapanese and a member of the Mikado's secret service as well. 

"Which mine?" Iyok-ok smiled good-naturedly as he blinked in thesunlight. It was the morning after Johnny's battle with the Russian. 

"Are there others?"

"Seven mines. "

"Seven! And all of them rich as the one we were in yesterday?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders. 

"Some much richer, " he declared. 

"How long has the world known of this wealth?"

"Never has known. A few men know, that's all. The old Czar, he knew, but would let no one work the mines. Just at the last he said 'Yes. 'Then they hurried much machinery over here, but it was too late. TheCzar--well, you know he is dead now, but they have their machinery herestill. "

"Who are 'they'?" asked Johnny with curiosity fully aroused. 

"American. I know. Can't tell. Worked for them once. Promise nevertell. "

Johnny wrinkled his brow but did not press the matter. 

"But this Russia, the Kamchatkan Peninsula?" Iyok-ok continued. "Whomdoes it belong to now? Can you tell me that?"

Johnny shook his head. 

"Neither can They tell. If They knew, and if They knew it was safe tocome back and mine here, when the world has so great need of gold, youbetter believe They would come and mine, But They do not know; They donot know. " The boy pronounced the last words with an undertone ofmystery. "Sometime I will know. Then I--I will tell you, perhaps. "

"Where's the machinery?" asked Johnny. 

"Up the river. Wanta see it?"

"Sure. "

They hurried away up the frozen river and in fifteen minutes came upon arow of low sheds. The doors were locked, but to his great surpriseJohnny discovered that his companion had the keys. 

They were soon walking through dark aisles, on each side of which werepiled parts of mining machines of every description, crushers, rollers, smelters and various accessories connected with quartz mining. Mingledwith these were picks, pans, steam thawers, windlasses, and great pilesof sluice timber. All these last named were for mining placer gold. 

"Quartz too?" asked Johnny. 

"Plenty of quartz, " grinned Iyok-ok. "Come out here, I will show you. "

They stepped outside. The boy locked the door, then led his companion upa steep slope until they were on a low point commanding a view of thevillage below and a rocky cliff above. 

"See that cliff?" asked Iyok-ok. "Plenty of gold there. Pick it out withyour pen knife. Rich! Too rich. "

"Then this Peninsula is as rich as Alaska?"

"Alaska?" Iyok-ok grinned. "Alaska? What shall I say? Alaska, it is ajoke. Think of the great Lena River! Great as the Yukon. Who knows whatgold is deposited in the beds and banks of that mighty stream? Who knowsanything about this wonderful peninsula? The Czar, he has kept itlocked. But now the Czar is dead. The key is lost. Who will find it?Sometime we will see. "

The boy was interrupted by wild shouts coming from the village. As theireyes turned in that direction, Johnny and Iyok-ok beheld a strangesight. The entire village had apparently turned out to give chase to oneman. And, down to the last child, they were armed. But such strangeimplements of warfare as they carried! All were relics of by-gone days;lances, walrus harpoons, bows and arrows, axes, hammers and many more. 

As Johnny watched them, he remembered having been told by an old nativethat during and after the great war these people had been unable toprocure a sufficient supply of ammunition and had been obliged to resortto ancient methods of hunting. These were the bow and arrow, the lanceand the harpoon. Powerful bows, of some native wood, shot arrows tippedwith cunningly tempered bits of steel. The drawn and tempered barrel ofa discarded rifle formed a point for the long-shafted lance. Theharpoon, most terrible of all weapons, both for man and beast, was along wooden shaft with a loose point attached to a long skin rope. Oncefive or six of these had been thrown into the body of a great white bearor some offending human he was doomed to die a death of agonizingtorture; his body being literally torn to pieces by the drag upon thestrong skin ropes, fastened to the steel points imbedded in his flesh. 

Now it seemed evident that for some misdeed one member of the tribe hadbeen condemned to die. As Johnny stood there staring, the whole affairseemed so much like things he had seen done on the screen, that he foundit difficult to realize that this was an actual tragedy, being enactedbefore his very eyes. 

"They do it in the movies, " he said. 

"Yes, " his companion agreed, "but here they will kill him. We must hurryto help him. "

"Who is he?"

"Don't you see? The Russian. "

"Oh!" sighed Johnny. "Let 'em have him. He deserves as much from me, probably deserves more from them. "

"No! No! No!" Iyok-ok protested, now very much excited. "That will neverdo. We must save him. They think he's from the Russian Government. Thinkhe will demand their furs and carry them away. They mistake. They willkill him. Your automatic! We must hurry. Come. "

Johnny found himself being dragged down the hill. As he looked below, herealized that his companion was right. The man was doomed unless theyinterfered. Already skillful archers were pausing to shoot and theirarrows fell dangerously near the fugitive. 

"Now, from here, " panted Iyok-ok. "Your automatic. Shoot over theirheads. They will stop. I will tell them. They will not kill him. "

Johnny's hand went to his automatic, but there it rested. These natives?What did he have against them that he should interrupt them in thechase? And this Russian, what claim did he have on him that he shouldsave his life? None, the answer was plain. And yet, here was this boy, to whom he had grown strangely attached, begging him to help save theRussian. A strange state of affairs, for sure. 

Toward them, as he ran, the Russian turned a white, appealing face. Tothem came ever louder and more appalling the cry of the excited natives. Now an arrow fell three feet short of its mark. And now, a stronger armsent one three yards beyond the man, but a foot to one side. The wholescene, set as it was in the purple shadows and yellow lights of thenorth-land, was fascinating. 

But the time had come to act. 

"Well, then, " Johnny grunted, whipping out his automatic, "for your sakeI'll do it. "

Three times the automatic barked its vicious challenge. The mob pausedand waited silently. 

Out of this silence there came a voice. It was the voice of Iyok-ok byJohnny's side. Through cupped hands, he was speaking calmly to thenatives. His words were a jumble of Eskimo, Chukche and pidgen-English, but Johnny knew they understood, for, as the speech went on, he sawthem drop their weapons, then one by one pick them up again to goshuffling away. 

Johnny looked about for the Russian. He had disappeared. 

"Now what did you do that for?" he asked his companion. 

"Can't tell now, " Iyok-ok answered slowly. "Sometime, mebbe. Not now. Azeezruk nucky, that's all. "

He paused and looked away at the hills; then turning, extended his hand. "Anyway, I thank you very, very much I thank you. "

With that they made their way toward the village and the sea, which, packed and glistening with ice, reflected all the glories of thegorgeous Arctic sunset. 

Three hours later Iyok-ok put his head in at Johnny's igloo and said:

"One hour go. "

"North?" asked Johnny. 

"North. "

"You go?"

"Eh-eh. "

"Jap girl go?"

"Eh-eh. "

"East Cape? Behring Strait?"

"Mebbe. " With a smile, the boy was gone. 

"Evidently the Russian is on the move again, " Johnny observed tohimself. "Wonder what he intends to do about his diamonds? Well, anyway, that proves that the gold mines are not his goal. "

As Johnny dug into his pack for a dry pair of deer skin stocks, hediscovered that his belongings had been tampered with. 

"The Russian, " he decided, "evidently hasn't forgotten his diamonds. "

CHAPTER VIII

WHEN AN ESKIMO BECOMES A JAP

Johnny Thompson smiled as he drew on a pair of rabbit skin trousers, then a parka made of striped ground squirrel skin, finished with a hoodof wolf skin. It was not his own suit; it had been borrowed from hishost, a husky young hunter of East Cape. But that was not his reason forsmiling. He was amused at the thought of the preposterousmisunderstanding which his traveling companions had concerning him. 

Only the day before he had exclaimed:

"Iyok-ok, I believe I have guessed why the Russian wants to kill me. "

"Why?"

"He thinks I am a member of the United States Secret Service. "

"Well? Canak-ti-ma-na" (I don't know). 

The boy had looked him squarely in the eye as much as to say, "Who coulddoubt that?"

At first Johnny had been inclined to assure Iyok-ok that there was notruth in the assumption, but the more he thought of it, the better hewas satisfied with things as they were. His companions carried with thema great air of mystery; why should he not share this a little with them?He had let the matter drop. 

But now, since he was considered to be a member of a secret serviceorganization, he prepared to act the part for one night at least. Withthe wolf skin parka hood drawn well around his face, he would hardly berecognized, garbed as he was in borrowed clothes. 

The mysterious Russian had adopted a plan of sending his dogs to someoutpost to be cared for by natives. This made the locating of the igloohe occupied extremely difficult. It had been by the merest chance thatJohnny had caught a glimpse of him as he disappeared through the flapsof a dwelling near the center of the village. The American had resolvedto watch that place and discover, if possible, some additional clues tothe purpose of the Russian. 

Skulking from igloo to igloo, Johnny came at last to the one he sought. Making his way to the back of it, he studied it carefully. There wereno windows and but one entrance. There was an opening at the top but toclimb up there was to be detected. He crept round to the other corner. There a glad sigh escaped his lips. A spot of light shone through thesemi-transparent outer covering of walrus skin. That meant that therewas a hole in the inner lining of deer skin. He had only to cut a holethrough the walrus skin to get a clear view of the interior. This he didquickly and silently. 

He swung his arm in disgust as he peered inside. Only an old Chukchewoman sat in the corner, chewing and sewing at a skin boot sole. 

Johnny hesitated. Had he mistaken the igloo? Had the Russian purposelymisled him? He was beginning to think so, when his eye caught the end ofa sleeping bag protruding from a pile of deer skins. This he instantlyrecognized as belonging to the Russian. 

"Evidently our friend is out. Then I'll wait, " he whispered to himself. 

He had been there but a few moments, when the native woman, putting awayher work, went out. She had scarcely disappeared through the flap thana dark brown streak shot into the room. As Johnny watched it, herealized that it was a small woman, and, though her clothing wasunfamiliar, he knew by certain quick and peculiar movements that thiswas the Jap girl. 

Ah ha! Now, perhaps, he should learn some things. Perhaps after allthese three were in league; perhaps they were all Radicals with a commonpurpose, the destruction of all organized society; Japanese Radicals arenot at all uncommon. 

But what was this the Jap girl was doing? She had overturned the pile ofdeer skins and was attempting to reach to the bottom of the Russian'ssleeping bag. Failing in this, she gave it a number of punches. With akeen glance toward the entrance she at last darted head foremost intothe bag, much as a mouse would have gone into a boot. 

She came out almost at once. Her hands were empty. Evidently the thingshe sought was not there. Next she attacked a bundle, which Johnnyrecognized as part of the Russian's equipment. She had examined this andwas about to put it in shape again when there came the faint shuffle offeet at the entrance. With one wild look about her, she darted to thepile of deer skins and disappeared beneath it. 

She was not a moment too soon, for instantly the sharp chin and thesullen brow of the Russian appeared at the entrance. 

When he saw the bundle in disorder, he sprang to the center of the room. His hand on his belt, he stared about the place for a second, then muchas a cat springs at a tuft of grass where a mole is concealed, he sprangat the pile of deer skins. 

Johnny's lips parted, but he uttered not a sound. His hand gripped theblue automatic. If the Russian found her, there would be no moreRussian, that was all. 

But to his intense surprise, he saw that as the man tore angrily at thepile, he uncovered nothing but skins. 

Johnny smothered a sigh of relief which was mixed with a gasp ofadmiration. The girl was clever, he was obliged to admit that. In aperiod only of seconds, she had cut away the rope which bound the skinwall to the floor and had crept under the wall to freedom. 

As Johnny settled back to watch, his brain was puzzled by one question;what was it that the Jap girl sought? Was it certain papers which theRussian carried, or was it--was it something which Johnny himselfcarried in his pocket at this very moment--the diamonds?

This last thought caused him a twinge of discomfort. If she wassearching for the diamonds, could it be that they rightfully belonged toher or to her family, and had they been taken by the Russian? Or had thegirl merely learned that the Russian had the jewels and had she followedhim all this way with the purpose of robbing him? If the firstsupposition was correct, ought Johnny not to go to her and tell her thathe had the diamonds? If, on the other hand, she was seeking possessionof that which did not rightfully belong to her, would she not take themfrom him anyway and leave him to face dire results? For, though no lawexisted which would hold him responsible for the jewels, obtained asthey had been under such unusual conditions, still Johnny knew all toowell that the world organization of Radicals to which this Russianbelonged had a system of laws and modes of punishment all its own, and, if the Russian succeeded in making his way to America and if he, Johnny, did not give proper account of these diamonds, sooner or later, punishment would be meted out to him, and that not the least written inthe code of the Radical world. 

He dismissed the subject from his mind for the time and gave his wholeattention to the Russian. But that gentleman, after evincing hisexceeding displeasure by kicking his sleeping bag about the room for atime, at last removed his outer garments, crept into the bag and went tosleep. 

One other visit Johnny made that night. As the result of it he did notsleep for three hours after he had let down the deer skin curtain to hissleeping compartment. 

"Hanada! Hanada?" he kept repeating to himself. "Of all the Japs in allthe world! To meet him here! And not to have known him. It'spreposterous. "

Johnny had gone to the igloo now occupied by Iyok-ok. He had gone, notto spy on his friend, but to talk to him about recent developments andto ascertain, if possible, when they would cross the Strait. He had gotas far as the tent flaps, had peered within for a few moments and hadcome away again walking as a man in his dream. 

What he had seen was apparently not so startling either. It was no morethan the boy with his parka off. But that was quite enough. Iyok-ok wasdressed in a suit of purple pajamas and was turned half about in such amanner that Johnny had seen his right shoulder. On it was athree-cornered, jagged scar. 

This scar had told the story. The boy was not an Eskimo but a Japmasquerading as an Eskimo. Furthermore, and this is the part which gaveJohnny the start, this Jap was none other than Hanada, his schoolmate ofother days; a boy to whom he owed much, perhaps his very life. 

"Hanada!" he repeated again, as he turned beneath the furs. How well heremembered that fight. Even then--it was his first year in a militarypreparatory school--he had shown his tendencies to develop as afeatherweight champion. And this tendency had come near to ending hiscareer. The military school was one of those in which the higherclassmen treated the beginners rough. Johnny had resented this treatmentand had been set upon by four husky lads in the darkness. He had settledtwo of them, knocked them cold. But the other two had got him down, andwere beating the life out of him when this little Jap, Hanada, hadappeared on the scene. Being also a first year student, he had come inwith his ju'jut'su and between them they had won the battle, but notuntil the Jap had been hung over a picket fence with a jagged wound inhis shoulder. It was the scar of that wound Johnny had seen and it wasthat scar which had told him that this must be Hanada. 

He smiled now, as he thought how he had taken Hanada to his room afterthat boy's battle and had attempted to sew up the cut with an ordinaryneedle. He smiled grimly as he thought of the fight and how he hadresolved to win or die. Hanada had helped him win. 

And here he had been traveling with the Japanese days on end and had notrecognized him. And yet it was not so strange. He had not seen him forsix years. Had Hanada recognized him? If he had, and Johnny found ithard to doubt it, then he had his own reasons for keeping silent. Johnnydecided that he would not be the first to break the silence. But afterall there was a strange new comfort in the realization that here was oneamong all these strangers whom he could trust implicitly. And Hanadawould make a capital companion with whom he might cross the thirty-fivemiles of drifting, piling ice which still lay between him and America. It was the contemplation of these realities which at last led him to theland of dreams. 

CHAPTER IX

JOHNNY'S FREE-FOR-ALL

Johnny smiled as he sat before his igloo. Two signs of spring pleasedhim. Some tiny icicles had formed on the cliff above him, telling of thefirst thaw. An aged Chukche, toothless, and blind, had unwrapped hislong-stemmed pipe to smoke in the sunshine. 

Johnny had seen the old man before and liked him. He was cheerful andinteresting to talk to. 

"See that old man there?" he asked Hanada, whom he still called Iyok-okwhen speaking to him. "Communism isn't so bad for him after all. "

Hanada squinted at him curiously without speaking. 

"Of course, you know, " said Johnny, "what these people have here is thecommunal form of government, or the tribal form. Everything belongs tothe tribe. They own it in common. If I kill a white bear, a walrus or areindeer, it doesn't all go in my storehouse. I pass it round. It goesto the tribe. So does every other form of wealth they have. Nothingbelongs to anyone. Everything belongs to everybody. So, when my oldfriend gets too old to hunt, fish or mend nets, he basks in the sun andneedn't worry about anything at all. Pretty soft. Perhaps our friend theRussian is not so far wrong after all if he's a communist. "

"Uh-hu, " the Jap grunted; then he exclaimed, "That reminds me, Terogloona, the Chukche who lives three doors from here, asked me totell you to stay out of his igloo this afternoon. "

"Why?"

The Jap merely shrugged his shoulders. 

"I have a way of doing what I am told not to, you should--" Johnny wasabout to say, "you should know that, " but checked himself in time. 

"Better not go, " warned Hanada as he turned away. 

After an early noon lunch Johnny strolled up the hill top. He wanted toget a view of the Strait. On particularly clear days, Cape Prince ofWales on the American side of Behring Strait can be seen from East Capein Siberia. This day was clear, and, as Johnny climbed, he saw more andmore of the peak as it lay across the Strait, above the white ice floes. 

With trembling fingers he drew a one dollar bill from his pocket andspread it on his knee. 

"There it is, " he whispered. "There's the place where you came from, little old one-spot. And I am going to take you back there. TheWandering Jew once stood here and saw his sweetheart in a mirage on theother side. He was afraid to cross. But he only had a sweetheart to callhim. We've got that and a lot more. We've got a country calling us, thebrightest, the best country on the map. And we dare try to go back. Oncethat dark line of water disappears we'll be going. "

Then questions began to crowd his brain. Would Hanada attempt the Straitat this time? What was his game anyway? Was he a member of the Japanesesecret service detailed to follow the Russian, or was he traveling ofhis own accord? Except by special arrangement Japanese might not come toAmerica. Was Hanada sneaking back this way? It did not seem like him. Perhaps he would not cross at all. 

Johnny's eyes once more swept the broad expanse of drifting ice. Thenhis gaze became riveted on one spot. The band of black water hadnarrowed to a ribbon. This meant an onshore wind. Soon they would beable to cross from the solid shore ice to the drifting floe. Surelythere could be no better time to cross the Strait. With the air clearand wind light, the crossing might be made in safety. 

Even as he looked, Johnny saw a man leap the gap. Curiosity caused himto watch this man, whom he had taken for a Chukche hunter. Now heappeared, now disappeared, only to reappear again round an ice pile. Buthe behaved strangely for a hunter. Turning neither to right nor left, except to dodge ice piles, he forged straight ahead, as if guided by acompass. Soon it became apparent that he was starting on the trip acrossthe Strait. Chukches did not attempt this journey. They had notsufficient incentive. Could it be the Russian? Johnny decided he musthurry down and tell Hanada. But, even as he rose, he saw a second personleap across the gap in the ice. This one at once started to trail thefirst man. There could be no mistaking that youthful springing step. Itwas Hanada in pursuit. 

With cold perspiration springing out on his forehead, Johnny sat weaklydown. He was being left behind, left behind by his friend, hisclassmate, the man who above all men he had thought could be dependedupon. How could he interpret this?

For a time Johnny sat in gloomy silence, trying to form an answer to theproblem; trying also to map out a program of his own. 

Suddenly he sprang to his feet. He had remembered that there was somesort of party down in the village, which he had been invited not toattend, and he had meant to go. Perhaps it was not too late if hehurried. He raced down the hill and straight to the igloo he had beenwarned against entering. A strapping young buck was standing guard atthe flaps. 

"No go, " he said as Johnny approached. 

"Go, " answered Johnny. 

"No go, " said the native, his voice rising. 

"Go, " retorted Johnny quietly. 

He moved to pass the native. The latter put his hand out, and the nextinstant felt himself whirled about and shot spinning down the shortsteep slope which led from the igloo entrance. Johnny's good right armhad done that. 

As the American lad pushed back the flaps of the igloo and entered hestared for one brief second. Then he let out a howl and lunged forward. Before him, in the center of the igloo stood the old man who had been sopeacefully smoking his pipe two hours before. He was now standing on abox which raised him some three feet from the floor. About his neck wasa skin rope. The rope, a strong one, was fastened securely to the crosspoles of the igloo. A younger man had been about to kick the box away. 

This same younger man suddenly felt the jar of something hard. It struckhis chin. After that he felt nothing. 

The fight was on. There were a dozen natives in the room. A brawny buckwith a livid scar on his right cheek lunged at Johnny. He speedilyjoined his friend in oblivion. A third man leaped upon Johnny's back. Johnny went over like a bucking pony. Finally landing feet first uponthe other's abdomen, he left him to groan for breath. A little fellowsprang at him. Johnny opened his hand and slapped him nearly through theskin wall. They came; they went; until at last, very much surprised andquite satisfied, they allowed Johnny to cut the skin rope and help hisold blind friend down. 

A boy poked his head in at the flap. He had been a whaler and couldspeak English. He surveyed the room in silence for a moment, taking ineach prostrate native. 

"Now you have spoiled it, " he told Johnny with a smile. 

"I should say myself that I'd messed things up a bit, " Johnny admitted, "but tell me what it's all about. What did the poor old cuss do?"

"Do?" the boy looked puzzled. "That one do?"

"Sure. What did they want to hang him for? He was too old and feeble todo anything very terrible; besides he's blind. "

"Oh, " said the boy smiling again. "He done not anything. Too old, thatwhy. No work. All time eat. Better dead. That way think all my people. All time that way. "

Johnny looked at him in astonishment, then he said slowly:

"I guess I get you. In this commune, this tribe of yours, everyone doesthe best he can for the gang. When he is too old to work, fish or hunt, the best thing he can do is die, so you hang him. Am I right?"

"Sure a thing, " replied the boy. "That's just it. "

Johnny shot back:

"No enjoying a ripe old age in this commune business?"

"No. Oh, no. "

"Then I'm off this commune stuff forever, " exclaimed Johnny. "The oldorder of things like we got back in the States is good enough for me. And, I guess it's not so old after all. It's about the newest thingthere is. This commune business belongs back in the stone age whenprimitive tribes were all the organizations there were. "

He had addressed this speech to no one in particular. He now turned tothe boy, a black frown on his brow. 

"See here, " he said sharply, "this man, no die, See? Live. See? All timelive, see? No kill. You tell those guys that. Tell them I mebby comeback one winter, one summer. Come back. Old man dead. I kill three ofthem. See?"

Johnny took out his automatic and played with it longingly. 

"Tell them if they don't act as if they mean to do what I say, I'llshoot them now, three of them. "

The boy interpreted this speech. Some of the men turned pale beneaththeir brown skins; some shifted uneasily. They all answered quickly. 

"They say, all right, " the boy explained solemnly. "Say that one, if hadknown you so very much like old man, no want-a hang that one. "

"All right. " Johnny smiled as he bowed himself out. 

It was the first near-hanging he had ever attended and he hoped it wouldbe the last. But as he came out into the clear afternoon air he drankin three full breaths, then said, slowly:

"Communism! Bah!"

Hardly had he said this than he began to realize that he had a movecoming and a speedy one. He was in the real, the original, the onlygenuine No Man's Land in the world. He was under the protection of noflag. The only law in force here was the law of the tribe. He hadviolated that law, defied it. He actually, for the moment, had sethimself up as a dictator. 

"Gee!" he muttered. "Wish I had time to be their king!"

But he didn't have time, for in the first place, all the pangs of pasthomesick days were returning to urge him across the Strait. In thesecond place the mystery of the Russian and Hanada's relation to him wascalling for that action. And, in the third place, much as he might enjoybeing king of the Chukches, he was quite sure he would never be offeredthat job. There would be reactions from this day's business. The councilof headmen would be called. Johnny would be discussed. He had committedan act of diplomatic indiscretion. He might be asked to leave theseshores; and then again an executioner might be appointed for him, and awalrus lance thrust through his back. 

Yes, he would move. But first he must see the Jap girl and ask about herplans. It would not do to desert her. Hurrying down the snow path, hecame upon her at the entrance to her igloo. 

Together they entered, and, sitting cross-legged on the deer skins bythe seal oil lamp, they discussed their futures. 

The girl made a rather pitiful figure as she sat there in the glow ofthe yellow light. Much of her splendid "pep" seemed to have oozed away. 

As Johnny questioned her, she answered quite frankly. No, she would notattempt to cross the Strait on the ice. It would be quite dangerous, and, beside, she had promised to stay. She did not say the promise hadbeen made to Hanada but Johnny guessed that. Evidently they had thoughtthe Russian might return. She told her American friend that she wasafraid that her mission in the far north had met with failure. Shewould not tell what that mission was, but admitted this much: she hadonce been very rich, or her family had. Her father had been a merchantliving in one of the inland cities of Russia. The war had come and thenthe revolution. The revolutionists had taken all that her father owned. He had died from worry and exposure, and she had been left alone. Heroccupation at present was, well, just what he saw. She shrugged hershoulders and said no more. 

Johnny with his natural generosity tried to press his roll of Americanmoney upon her. She refused to accept it, but gave him a rare smile. Shehad money enough for her immediate need and a diamond or two. Perhapswhen the Strait opened up she would come by gasoline schooner toAmerica. 

Her mention of diamonds made Johnny jump. He instantly thought of thediamonds in his pocket. Could it be that her father had converted hiswealth into diamonds and then had been robbed by the Radicalrevolutionist? He was on the point of showing the diamonds to her whendiscretion won the upper hand. He thought once more of the cruelrevenges meted out by these Radicals. Should he give the diamonds to oneto whom they did not belong, the penalty would be swift and sure. 

Johnny did, however, press into her hand a card with his name and acertain address in Chicago written upon it and he did urge her to comethere should she visit America. 

He had hardly left the igloo when a startling question came to his mind. Why had the Russian gone away without further attempt to recover thetreasure now in Johnny's possession? He had indeed twice searched theAmerican's igloo in his absence and once had made an unsuccessful attackupon his person. He had gained nothing. The diamonds were still safe inJohnny's pocket. What could cause the man to abandon them? Here, indeed, must be one of the big men of the cult, perhaps the master of them all. 

With this thought came another, which left Johnny cold. The cult hadspies and avengers everywhere. They were numerous in the United States. They could afford to wait. Johnny could be trusted to cross the Straitsoon. There would be time enough then. His every move would be watched, and when the time was ripe there would be a battle for the treasure. 

That night, by the light of the glorious Arctic moon Johnny found hisway across the solid shore ice and climbed upon the drifting floes, which were even now shifting and slowly piling. He was on his way toAmerica. Perhaps he was the first American to walk from the old world tohis native land. Certainly, he had never attempted thirty-five miles oftravel which was fraught with so many perils. 

CHAPTER X

THE JAP GIRL IN PERIL

Hardly had Johnny made his way across the shore ice and begun hisdangerous journey when things of a startling nature began to happen tothe Jap girl. 

She was seated in her igloo sewing a garment of eider duck skins, whenthree rough-looking Chukches entered and, without ceremony, told her bysigns that she must accompany them. 

She was conducted to the largest igloo in the village. This she foundcrowded with natives, mostly men. She was led to the center of thefloor, which was vacant, the natives being ranged round the sides of theplace. 

Instantly her eyes searched the frowning faces about her for a clue tothis move. She soon found it. In the throng, she recognized five of thereindeer Chukches, members of that band which had attempted to murderJohnny Thompson and herself. 

Their presence startled her. That they would make their way this farnorth, when their reindeer had been sent back by paid messengers somedays before, had certainly seemed very improbable both to Johnny and tothe girl. 

Evidently the Chukches were very revengeful in spirit or very faithfulin the performance of murders they had covenanted to commit. At anyrate, here they were. And the girl did not deceive herself, this was acouncil chamber. She did not doubt for a moment that her sentence wouldbe death. Her only question was, could there be a way of escape? Thewall was lined with dusky forms this time. The entrance was closelyguarded. Only one possibility offered; above her head, some five feet, astrong rawhide rope crossed from pole to pole of the igloo. Directlyabove this was the smoke hole. She had once entered one of these when anigloo was drifted over with snow. 

The solemn parley of the council soon began. Like a lawyer presentinghis case, the headman of the reindeer tribe stood before them all andwith many gestures told his story. At intervals in his speech two menstepped forward for examination. The jaw of one of them was very stiffand three of his teeth were gone. As to the other, his face was stilltied up in bandages of tanned deer skin. His jaw was said to be broken. The Jap girl, in spite of her peril, smiled. Johnny had done his workwell. 

There followed long harangues by other members of the reindeer tribe. The last speech was made by the headman of East Cape. It was the longestof all. 

At length a native boy turned to the Jap girl and spoke to her inEnglish. 

"They say, that one; they say all; you die. What you say?"

"I say want--a--die, " she replied smiling. 

This answer, when interpreted, brought forth many a grunt of surprise. 

"They say, that one! they say all, " the boy went on, "how you want--adie? Shoot? Stab?"

"Shoot. " She smiled again, then, "But first I do two thing. I sing. Idance. My people alletime so. "

"Ki-ke" (go ahead) came in a chorus when her words had beeninterpreted. 

No people are fonder of rhythmic motion and dreamy chanting than are thenatives of the far north. The keen-witted Japanese girl had learned thisby watching their native dancing. She had once visited an island in thePacific and had learned while there a weird song and a wild, whirlingdance. 

Now, as she stood up she kicked from her feet the clumsy deer skin bootsand, from beneath her parka extracted grass slippers light as silk. Then, standing on tip toe with arms outspread, like a bird about to fly, she bent her supple body forward, backward and to one side. Waving herarms up and down she chanted in a low, monotonous and dreamy tone. 

All eyes were upon her. All ears were alert to every note of the chant. Great was the Chukche who learned some new chant, introduced someunfamiliar dance. Great would he be who remembered this song and dancewhen this woman was dead. 

The tones of the singer became more distinct, her voice rose and fell. Her feet began to move, slowly at first, then rapidly and yet morerapidly. Now she became an animated voice of stirring chant, a whirlingpersonification of rhythm. 

And now, again, the song died away; the motion grew slower and slower, until at last she stood before them motionless and panting. 

"Ke-ke! Ke-ke!" (More! More!) they shouted, in their excitement, forgetting that this was a dance of death. 

Tearing the deer skin parka from her shoulders and standing before themin her purple pajamas, she began again the motion and the song. Slow, dreamy, fantastic was the dance and with it a chant as weird as the songof the north wind. "Woo-woo-woo. " It grew in volume. The motionquickened. Her feet touched the floor as lightly as feathers. Herswaying arms made a circle of purple about her. Then, as she spun roundand round, her whole body seemed a purple pillar of fire. 

At that instant a strange thing happened. As the natives, their mindscompletely absorbed by the spell of the dance, watched and listened, they saw the purple pillar rise suddenly toward the ceiling. Nor did itpause, but mounting straight up, with a vaulting whirl disappeared fromsight. 

Overcome by the hypnotic spell of the dance, the natives sat motionlessfor a moment. Then the bark of a dog outside broke the spell. With a madshout: "Pee-le-uk-tuk Pee-le-uk-tuk!" (Gone! Gone!) they rushed to theentrance, trampling upon and hindering one another in their haste. 

 * * * * *

When Johnny reached the piling ice, on his way across the Strait, he atfirst gave his entire attention to picking a pathway. Indeed this wasquite necessary, for here a great pan of ice, thirty yards square andeight feet thick, glided upon another of the same tremendous proportionsto rear into the air and crumble down, a ponderous avalanche of icecakes and snow. He must leap nimbly from cake to cake. He must takeadvantage of every rise and fall of the heaving swells which disturbedthe great blanket winter had cast upon the bosom of the deep. 

All this Johnny knew well. Guided only by the direction taken by themoving cakes, he made his way across this danger zone, and out upon thegreat floe, which though still drifting slowly northward, did not pileand seemed as motionless as the shore ice itself. 

While at the village at East Cape Johnny had made good use of his time. He had located accurately the position of the Diomede Islands, half waystation in the Strait. He had studied the rate of the ice's driftnorthward. He now was in a position to know, approximately, how far hemight go due east and how much he must veer to the south to counteractthe drift of the ice. He soon reckoned that he would make three miles anhour over the uneven surface of the floe. He also reckoned that the floewas making one mile per hour due north. He must then, for every mile hetraveled going east, do one mile to the south. He did this by going afull hour's travel east, then one-third of an hour south. 

So sure was he of his directions that he did not look up until the rockycliffs of Big Diomede Island loomed almost directly above him. 

There was a native village on this island where he hoped to find foodand rest and, perhaps, some news of the Russian and Hanada. He locatedthe village at last on a southern slope. This village, as he knew, consisted of igloos of rock. Only poles protruding from the rocks toldhim of its location. 

As he climbed the path to the slope he was surprised to be greeted onlyby women and children. They seemed particularly unkempt and dirty. Atlast, at the crest of the hill, he came upon a strange picture. A youngnative woman tastily dressed was standing before her house, puffing aturkish cigaret. She was a half-breed of the Spanish type, and Johnnycould imagine that some Spanish buccaneer, pausing at this desolateisland to hide his gold, had become her father. 

She asked him into an igloo and made tea for him, talking all the whilein broken English. She had learned the language, she told him, from thewhalers. She spoke cheerfully and answered his questions frankly. Yes, his two friends had been here. They had gone, perhaps; she did not know. Yes, he might cross to Cape Prince of Wales in safety she thought. ButJohnny had the feeling that her mind was filled with the dread of someimpending catastrophe which perhaps he might help avert. 

And at last the revelation came. Lighting a fresh cigaret, she leanedback among the deer skins and spoke. "The men of the village, " she said, "you have not asked me about them. "

"Thought they were hunting, " replied Johnny. 

"Hunting, no!" she exclaimed. "Boiling hooch. "

Johnny knew in a moment what she meant. "Hooch" was whisky, moonshine. Many times he had heard of this vicious liquor which the Eskimos andChukches concocted by boiling sourdough, made of molasses, flour andyeast. 

The girl told him frankly of the many carouses that had taken placeduring the winter, of the deaths that had resulted from it, of theshooting of her only brother by a drink-crazed native. 

Johnny listened in silence. That she told it all without apparentemotion did not deceive him. Hooch was being brewed now. She wished itdestroyed. This was the last brew, for no more molasses and flourremained in the village. This last drunken madness would be the mostterrible of all. She told him finally of the igloo where all the men hadgathered. 

Johnny pondered a while in silence. He was forever taking over thetroubles of others. How could he help this girl, and save himself fromharm? What could he do anyway? One could not steal four gallons ofliquor before thirty or forty pairs of eyes. 

Suddenly, an idea came to him. Begging a cigaret from the native beauty, he lighted it and gave it three puffs. No, Johnny did not smoke. He wasmerely experimenting. He wanted to see if it would make him sick. Threepuffs didn't, so having begged another "pill" and two matches he leftthe room saying:

"I'll take a look. "

 * * * * *

When the Jap girl leaped through the smoke hole of the igloo at EastCape she rolled like a purple ball off the roof. Jumping to her feet shedarted down the row of igloos. Pausing for a dash into an igloo, sheemerged a moment later bearing under one arm a pile of fur garments andunder the other some native hunting implements. Then she made a dash forthe shore ice. 

It was at this juncture that the first Chukche emerged from the largeigloo. At his heels roared the whole gang. Like a pack of bloodthirstyhounds, they strove each one to keep first place in the race. Theirgrimy hands itched for a touch of that flying girlish figure. 

Though she was a good quarter mile in the lead she was hampered by thearticles she carried. Certain young Chukches, too, were noted for theirspeed. Could she make it? There was a full mile of level, sandy beachand quite as level shore ice to be crossed before she could reach theprotection of the up-turned and tumbled ice farther out to sea. 

On they came. Now their cries sounded more distinctly; they weregaining. Now she heard the hoarse gasps of the foremost runner; nowimagining that she felt his hot breath on her cheek she redoubled herenergy. A grass slipper flew into the air. She ran on barefooted overthe stinging ice. 

Now an ice pile loomed very near. With a final dash she gained itsshelter. With a whirl she darted from it to the next, then to the right, straight ahead, again to the right, then to the left. But even then shedid not pause. She must lose herself completely in this labyrinth ofup-ended ice cakes. 

Five minutes more of dodging found her far from the shouting mob, thatby this time was as hopelessly lost as dogs in a bramble patch. 

The Jap girl smiled and shook her fist at the shore. She was safe. Compared to this tangled wilderness of ice, the Catacombs of Rome werean open street. 

Throwing a fur garment on a cake of ice, she sat down upon it, at thesame time hastily drawing a parka over her perspiring shoulders. Shethen proceeded to examine her collection of clothing. The examinationrevealed one fawn skin parka, one under suit of eider duck skin, onepair of seal skin trousers, two pairs of seal skin boots, with deer skinsocks to match, and one pair of deer skin mittens. Besides these therewas an undressed deer skin, a harpoon and a seal lance. 

Not such a bad selection, this, for a moment's choosing. The principaldifficulty was that the whole outfit had formerly belonged to a boy offourteen. The Jap girl shrugged her shoulders at this and donned theclothing without compunctions. 

When that task was complete she surveyed herself in an up-ended cake ofblue ice and laughed. In this rig, with her hair closely plaited to herhead, her own mother would have taken her for a young Chukche boy outfor a hunt. 

Other problems now claimed her attention. She was alone in the worldwithout food or shelter. She dared not return to the village. Whereshould she go?

Again she shrugged her shoulders. She was warmly clad, but she was tiredand sleepy. Seeking out a cubby hole made by tumbled cakes of ice, sheplastered up the cracks between the cakes with snow until only oneopening remained. Then, dragging her deer skin after her, she creptinside. She half closed the opening with a cake of snow, spread the deerskin on the ice and curled up to sleep as peacefully as if she were inher own home. 

One little thing she had not reckoned with; she was now on the driftingice of the ocean, and was moving steadily northward at the rate of onemile an hour. 

CHAPTER XI

A FACE IN THE NIGHT

When Johnny left the igloo of the native girl he made his way directlyup the hill for a distance of a hundred yards. Then, turning, he tookthree steps to the right and found himself facing the entrance to asecond stone igloo. That it was an old one and somewhat out of repairwas testified to by the fact that light came streaming through many acrevice between the stones. 

Keeping well away from the entrance, Johnny took his place near one ofthese crevices. What he saw as he peered within would have made JohnBarleycorn turn green with envy. A moonshine still was in fulloperation. Beneath a great sheet iron vat a slow fire of driftwoodburned. Extending from the vat was the barrel of a discarded rifle. Thisrifle barrel passed through a keg of ice. Beneath the outer end of therifle barrel was a large copper-hooped keg which was nearly full of sometransparent liquid. The liquid was still slowly dripping from the end ofthe rifle barrel. 

That the liquid was at least seventy-five per cent alcohol Johnny knewright well. That it would soon cease to drip, he also knew; the fire wasburning low and no more driftwood was to be seen. 

Johnny sized up the situation carefully. Aside from some crude benchesrunning round its walls and a cruder table which held the moonshinestill, the room was devoid of furnishings. Ranged round the wall, withthe benches for seats, were some thirty men and perhaps half as manyhard-faced native women. On every face was an expression of gloatingexpectancy. 

Now and again, a hand holding a small wooden cup would steal out towardthe keg to be instantly knocked aside by a husky young fellow whose dutyit appeared to be to guard the hooch. 

Johnny tried to imagine what the result would be were he suddenly toenter the place. He would not risk that. He would wait. He counted themoments as the sound of the dripping liquid grew fainter and fainter. Atlast there came a loud:

"Dez-ra" (enough), from an old man in the corner. 

Instantly the tank was lifted to one side, the fire beaten out, the kegof ice flung outside and the keg of hooch set on the table in the centerof the room. 

Everybody now bent eagerly forward as if for a spring. Every hand held acup. But at this instant there came the shuffle of footsteps outside. Instantly every cup disappeared. The kettle was lifted to a dark corner. The room was silent when Johnny stepped inside. 

"Hello, " he shouted. 

"Hello! Hello!" came from every corner. 

"Where you come from?" asked the former tender of the still. 

"East Cape. "

"Where you go?"

"Cape Prince of Wales. "

"Puck-mum-ie?" (Now?) The man betrayed his anxiety. 

"Canak-ti-ma-na" (I don't know), said Johnny seating himself on thetable and allowing his glance to sweep the place from corner to corner. "I don't know, " he repeated, slowly. "How are you all anyway?"

"Ti-ma-na" (Not so bad), answered the spokesman. 

Johnny was enjoying himself. He was exactly in the position of some goodmotherly soul who held a pumpkin pie before the eyes of several hungryboys. The only difference was that the pie Johnny was thinking of wasraw, so exceeding raw that it would turn these natives into wild men. SoJohnny decided that, like as not, he wouldn't let them have it at all. 

Johnny enjoyed the situation nevertheless. He was mighty unpopular atthat moment, he knew, but his unpopularity now was nothing to what itwould be in a very short time. Thinking of this, he measured thedistance to the door very carefully with his eye. 

At last, when it became evident that if he didn't move someone elsewould, he turned to the still manager and said:

"Well, guess I'll be going. Got a match?"

He produced the borrowed cigaret. A sigh of hope escaped from the groupof natives and a match was thrust upon him. 

"Thanks. "

The match was of the sulphur kind, the sort that never blow out. 

Nonchalantly Johnny lighted the cigaret, then, all too carelessly, heflipped the match. Though it seemed a careless act, it was deftly done. 

There came a sudden cry of alarm. But too late; the match droppedsquarely into the keg of alcohol. The next instant the place was allalight with the blaze of the liquor, which flamed up like oil. 

"This way out, " exclaimed Johnny leading the procession for the door. Lightly he bounded down the hill. He caught one glimpse of the youngwoman as he passed, but this was no time for lingering farewells. Theowner of the still was on his trail. 

Dodging this way and that, sliding over a wide expanse of ice, Johnny atlast eluded his pursuers in the wildly tumbled ice piles of the sea. Ashe paused to catch his breath he heard the soft pat-pat of a footstepand glancing up, caught a face peering at him round an ice pile. 

"The Russian, " he exclaimed. 

* * * * *

When the Jap girl awoke after several hours of delicious sleep in herice palace bedroom, she looked upon a world unknown. The sun was shiningbrightly. The air was clear. In a general way she knew the outline ofEast Cape and the Diomede Islands. She knew, too, where they should belocated. It took her some time to discover them and when she did it waswith a gasp of astonishment. They were behind her. 

Realizing at once what had happened, she stood up and held her face tothe air. The wind was off shore. There was not the least bit of use intrying to make the land. A stretch of black waters yawned between shoreand ice floe by now. 

Shrugging her shoulders, she climbed a pile of ice for a better view, then hurrying down again, she picked up the harpoon and began puzzlingover it. She coiled and uncoiled the skin rope attached to it. Sheworked the rope up and down through the many buttons which held it tothe shaft. She examined the sharp steel point of the shaft which wasfastened to the skin rope. 

After that she sat down to think. Over to the left of her she had seensomething that lay near a pool of water. She had never hunted anything, did not fancy she'd like it, but she was hungry. 

There was a level pan of ice by the pool. The creature lay on the icepan. Suddenly she sprang up and made her way across the ice piles to theedge of that broad pan. The brown creature, a seal, still some distanceaway, did not move. 

Searching the ice piles she at last found a regularly formed cake someeight inches thick and two feet square. With some difficulty she priedthis out and stood it on edge. The edge was uneven, the cake tippy. Rolling it on its side she chipped it smooth with the point of theharpoon. 

The second trial found the cake standing erect and solid. Gripping herharpoon, she threw herself flat on her stomach and pushing the cakebefore her, began to wriggle her way toward the sleeping seal. 

Once she paused long enough to bore a peep hole through the cake withher dagger. From time to time the seal wakened, and raised his head tolook about. Then he sank down again. Now she was but three rods away, now two, now one. Now she was within ten feet of the still motionlessquarry. 

Stretching every muscle for a spring like a cat, she suddenly dartedforward. At the next instant she hurled the harpoon deep into the seal'sside. She had him! Through her body pulsated thrills of wild triumphwhich harkened back to the days of her primitive ancestry. Then for asecond she wavered. She was a woman. But she was hungry. Tomorrow shemight be starving. 

Her knife flashed. A stream of red began dyeing the ice. A moment later, the creature's muscles relaxed. 

The Japanese girl, Cio-Cio-San, sat up and began to think. Here wasfood, but how was it to be prepared? To think of eating raw seal meatwas revolting, yet here on the floe there was neither stove nor fuel. 

Slowly and carefully she stripped the skin from the carcass. Beneaththis she found a two-inch layer of blubber, which must be more thanninety per cent oil. Under this was a compact mass of dark meat. Thiswould be good if it was cooked. She sat down to think again. The fatseemed to offer a solution. It would burn if she had matches. She feltover the parka for pockets, and, with a little cry of joy, she found inone several matches wrapped in a bit of oiled seal skin. Every nativecarried them. 

Hastily she stripped off a bit of fat and having lighted it, watched itflare up and burn rapidly. She laughed and clapped her hands. 

But before she could cut off a bit of meat to roast over its flames, thesoft ice began melting beneath it and the flames flickered out with asnapping flutter. 

This would not do. There must be some other way found. Rising, she droveher harpoon into the snow at the crest of an ice pile. To this shefastened her deer skin, that it might act as a beacon to guide her backto her food supply. Then she turned about the ice pile and beganwandering in search of she hardly knew what. 

She at last came upon some old ice, with cakes ground round anddiscolored with age and then with a little cry of joy she startedforward. The thing she saw had been discarded as worthless long ago;some gasoline schooner's crew had thrown it overboard. It was an emptyfive-gallon can which had once held gasoline. It was red with rust, butshe pounced upon it and hurried away. 

Once safely back at her lodge she used the harpoon to cut out a door inthe upper end of the can. After cutting several holes in one side, sheplaced it on the ice with the perforated side up and put a strip ofblubber within. This she lighted. It gave forth a smoky fire, withlittle heat, but much oil collected in the can. Seeing this, she beganfraying out the silk ribbon of her pajamas. When she had secured asufficient amount of fine fuzz she dropped it along the edge of the oilwhich saturated it at once. She lighted this, which had formed itselfinto a sort of wick, and at once she had a clear and steady flame. 

She had solved the problem. In her seal oil oven, meat toastedbeautifully. In half an hour she was enjoying a bountiful repast. Afterthe feast, she sat down to think. She was fed for the moment andapparently safe enough, but where was she and whither was she beingcarried by this drifting ice floe?

 * * * * *

For a second, after seeing the face of the Russian on the ice, JohnnyThompson stood motionless. Then he turned and ran, ran madly out amongthe ice piles. Heedless of direction he ran until he was out of breathand exhausted, until he had lost himself and the Russian completely. 

No, Johnny was not running from the Russian. He was running fromhimself. When he saw the Russian's face, lit up as it was by the flareof the flames that had burst forth from that abandoned igloo, there hadbeen something so crafty, so cruel, so remorselessly terrible about itthat he had been seized with a mad desire to kill the man where hestood. 

But Johnny felt, rather than knew, that there were very special reasonswhy the Russian must not be killed, at least not at that particularmoment. Perhaps some dark secret was locked in his crafty brain, asecret which the world should know and which would die if he died. Johnny could only guess this, but whatever might be the reason he mustnot at this moment kill the man whom he suspected of twice attemptinghis life. So he fled. 

By the last flickering flames of the grand spree that had burned, Johnnyfigured out his approximate location and began once more his three mileseast, one mile south journey to Cape Prince of Wales. Some hours later, having landed safely at the Cape, and having displayed the postmarkedone dollar bill to the post mistress and given it to her in exchange fora sumptuous meal of reindeer meat, hot biscuits and doughnuts, hestarted sleeping the clock round in a room that had been arranged forthe benefit of weary travelers. 

CHAPTER XII

"GET THAT MAN"

The trip from Cape Prince of Wales to Nome was fraught with manydangers. Already the spring thaw had begun. Had not the Eskimo whomJohnny employed to take him to the Arctic metropolis with his dog teambeen a marvel at skirting rotten ice and water holes in Port ClarenceBay, at swimming the floods on Tissure River, and at canoeing across theflooded Sinrock, Johnny might never have reached his journey's end. 

As it was, two weeks from the time he left East Cape in Siberia, hestood on the sand spit at Nome, Alaska. By his side stood Hanada, whowas still acting the part of an Eskimo and who had come down a few daysahead of him. 

They were viewing a rare sight, the passing out to sea of the two milesof shore ice. The spring thaw had been followed by an off-shore windwhich was carrying the loosened ice away. Johnny's interest was evenlydivided between this rare spectacle and the recollection of the eventsthat had recently transpired. 

"Look!" said Hanada. "I believe the ice will carry the farther end ofthe cable tramway out to sea. "

Johnny looked. It did seem that what the boy said was true. Already thecable appeared to be as tight as a fiddle string. 

The tramway was a cable which stretched from a wooden tower set upon astone pillar jutting from the sea to a similar tower built upon theland. This tramway, during the busy summer months of open sea, is usedin lieu of a harbor and docks to bring freight and passengers ashore. This is done by drawing a swinging platform over the cable from tower totower and back again. The platform at the present moment swung idly atthe shore end of the cable. The beach had been fast locked in ice foreight months and more. 

"Looks like it might go, " said Johnny absentmindedly. 

Neither he nor the Jap had seen or heard anything of the Russian. Twothings would seem to indicate that that mysterious fugitive was in town;three times Johnny had found himself being closely watched by certainrough-looking Russian laborers, and once he had narrowly averted beingattacked in a dark street at night by a gang of the same generalcharacter. 

Hanada had not yet chosen to reveal his identity, and Johnny had notquestioned him. 

Only the day before a placard in the post office had given him a start. It was an advertisement offering a thousand dollars reward for knowledgewhich would lead to the arrest of a certain Russian Radical of muchimportance. This man was reported to have made his way through theAllied front near Vladivostok, and to have started north, apparentlywith the intention of crossing to America. To capture him, the placarddeclared, would be an act of practical patriotism. 

Johnny had stared in wonder at the photograph attached. It was thelikeness of a man much younger than the Russian they had followed sofar, but there could be no mistaking that sharp chin and frowning brow. They had doubtless followed that very man for hundreds of miles only tolose him at this critical moment. 

What had surprised him most of all had been the Jap's remark, as he readthe notice:

"The blunderer! Wooden-headed blunderer!" Hanada had muttered as he readthe printed words. 

"Would you take him if you saw him?" Johnny had asked. 

The Jap had turned a strangely inquiring glance at him, then answered:

"No!"

But they had not found him. And now the ice was going out. Soon shipswould be coming and going. Little gasoline schooners would dash away tocatch the cream of the coast-wise trading; great steamers would bring incoal, food, and men. In all this busy traffic, how easy it would be forthe Russian to depart unseen. 

Johnny sighed. He had grown exceedingly fond of dogging the track ofthat man. And besides, that thousand dollars would come in handy. Hewould dearly love to see the man behind prison bars. There would be noholding him for crimes he had attempted in Siberia, but probably theUnited States Government had something on him. 

"Look!" exclaimed the Jap. "The tower has tipped a full five feet!" Itwas true. The ice crowding from the shore had blocked behind the tower, which stood several hundred feet from land. A dark line of water hadopened between the two towers. Evidently the harbor committee would havesome work on its hands. 

"They're running down there, " said Johnny, pointing to three men racingas if for their lives toward the shore tower. "Wonder what they thinkthey can do?"

"Looks like the two behind were chasing the fellow in the lead, " saidHanada. 

"They are!" exclaimed Johnny. "Poor place for safety, I'd say, but he'sgot quite a lead. "

At that instant the man in front disappeared behind the shore tower. Asthey watched, they saw a strange thing: the swinging platform began tomove slowly along the rusty cable, and, just as it got under way, a manleaped out upon it. 

"He's started the electric motor and is giving himself a ride, "explained Johnny, "but if it's as bad as that, it must be pretty bad. He's desperate, that's all. The outer tower's likely to go over at anymoment and dash him to death. Even if he makes it, where'll he be? Goingout to sea on the floe, that's all. "

Slowly the platform crept across the space over the black waters, thenover the tumbling ice. The outer tower could be seen to dip in towardthe shore. The cable sagged. The two other runners were nearing theinner tower. 

"C'mon!" exclaimed Johnny, "The Golden West. A telescope!"

Closely followed by Hanada, he leaped away toward the hotel where, in aroom especially prepared for it, was a huge brass telescope mounted on atripod. Johnny, glancing out to sea, knew that the tower would be overin another thirty seconds. The platform was not twenty feet from itsgoal. His eye was now at the telescope. One second and he swung theinstrument about. Then a gasp escaped his lips:

"The Russian!"

"The Russian?" Hanada snatched the telescope from him. 

As Johnny watched he saw the man leap just as the platform lurchedbackward. The two men at the other tower had reversed the motor, butthey were too late. 

The next moment the outer tower toppled into the sea; the cable cut thewater with a resounding swish. Johnny saw the Russian leap from ice caketo ice cake until at last he disappeared behind a giant pile, safe on abroad field of solid ice. 

Hanada sat down. His face was white. 

"Gone!" he muttered hoarsely. 

"A boat?" suggested Johnny. 

"No good. The ice floe's two miles wide, forty miles long and all piledup. Couldn't find him. He'd never give himself up. But he'll come back. "

"How?"

"I don't know, but he'll come. You'll see. He's a devil, that one. Butwe'll get him yet. "

"And the thousand, " suggested Johnny. 

Hanada looked at him in disgust. "A thousand dollars! What is that?"

"Is it as bad as that?" Johnny smiled in spite of himself. 

"Yes, and worse, many times worse. I tell you, we must get that man!When the time comes, we must get him, or it will be worse for yourcountry and mine. "

"Ours is the same country, " suggested Johnny. 

"Huh!" Hanada shrugged his shoulders. "I am Hanada, your old schoolmate, now a member of the Japanese Secret Police, and you are Johnny Thompson. Whatever else you are, I don't know. The Russian has left us for a time. Let's talk about those old school days, and forget. "

And they did. 

CHAPTER XIII

BACK TO OLD CHICAGO

In the spring all the ice from upper Behring Sea passes through BehringStrait. One by one, like squadrons of great ships, floes from the shoresof Cape York, Cape Nome and the Yukon flats drift majestically throughthat narrow channel to the broad Arctic Ocean. 

So it happened that in due time the ice floe on which the Russian hadsought refuge drifted past the Diomede Islands and farther out, wellinto the Arctic Ocean, met the floe on which the Jap girl had been lostas it circled to the east. 

All ignorant of the passenger it carried, the girl welcomed thisaddition to her broad domain of ice. She had lived on the floe for days, killing seal for her food and melting snow to quench her thirst. But oflate the cakes had begun to drift apart. There was danger that the greatpan on which she had established herself would drift away from theothers, and, in that case, if no seals came, she would starve. This newfloe crowded upon hers and made the one on which she camped a solid massagain. 

Spying some strange, dark spots on the newly arrived floe, she hurriedover to the place and was surprised to find that it was a great heap ofrubbish carted from some city. Though she did not know it, she guessedthat city was Nome. 

With the keen pleasure of a child she explored the heaps, selecting herea broken knife, there a discarded kettle, and again some other utensilwhich would help her in setting up a convenient kitchen. 

But it was as she made her way back to her camp that she received thegreatest shock. Suddenly, as she rounded a cake of ice, she came upon aman sprawled upon the ice, as if dead. The girl took no chances. In theland whence she came, it was not considered possible that this manshould die. She sprang between two up-ended cakes, and from this shelterstudied him cautiously. Yes, there was no mistaking him; it was theRussian. A slight movement of one arm told her he was not dead. Whetherhe was unconscious or was sleeping she could not tell. 

Presently, after tying her dagger to her waist by a rawhide cord, shecrept silently forward. An ear inclined toward his face told her that hewas breathing regularly; he was sleeping the torpid sleep of one worn byexhaustion, exposure and starvation. 

Ever so gently she touched him. He did not move. Then, with one hand onher dagger, she felt his clothing, as if searching for some objecthidden in his fur garments. Her touch was light as a feather, yet sheappeared to have a wonderful sense of location in the tips of thosesmall, slender fingers. 

Once the man moved and groaned. Light as a leaf she sprang away, thedagger gleaming in her hand. There were reasons why she did not wish tokill that man; other reasons than the fact that she was a woman andshrank from slaying, and yet she was in a perilous position. Should itcome to a choice between killing him or suffering herself, she wouldkill him. 

Again the man's body relaxed in slumber. Again she glided to his sideand continued her search. When at last she straightened up, it was witha look of despair. The thing she sought was not there. 

When the Russian awoke some time later it was with the feeling that hehad been prodded in the side. The first sensation to greet him afterthat was the savory smell of cooked meat. Unable to believe his senses, he opened his eyes and sat up. Before him was a tin pan partly filledwith strips of reddish-brown meat and squares of fried fat. The dish wasstill hot. 

Like a dog that fears to have his food snatched from him, he glaredabout him and a sort of snarl escaped his lips. Then he fell upon thefood and ate it ravenously. With the last morsel in his hand, he lookedabout him for signs of the human being who had befriended him. But inhis eye was no sign of gratitude, rather the reverse--a burning fire ofsuspicion and hate lurked in their sullen depths. His gaze finallyrested for a moment on the meat in his hand. Then his face blanched. Themeat had been neatly cut by an instrument keen as a razor. 

 * * * * *

The steam-whaler, Karluke, a whole year overdue, pushing her way souththrough the ice-infested Strait, her crew half mutinous, and her foodsupply low, was subjected to two vexatious delays. Once she halted topick up a man who signaled her from the top of a shattered tower of woodwhich topped an ice pile. The man was a Russian. Again, the boat pausedto take on board a youth, whom they supposed to be a Chukche hunter whohad been carried by the floes from his native shores. 

The Russian paid them well for his passage to Seattle. The supposedChukche was sent to the galley to become cook's helper. 

This Chukche boy was no other than the Jap girl. She realized at oncethe position she was in; a perilous enough one, once her identity wasdisclosed, and she did all in her power to play the part of a Chukcheboy. She drew maps on the deck to show the seamen that she was a memberof the reindeer Chukche tribes, who spoke a different language from thehunting tribes, thus explaining why she could not converse freely withthe veteran Arctic sailors who had learned Chukche on their manyvoyages. She was fortunate in immediately securing a cook's linen cap. This she wore tightly drawn down to her ears, covering her haircompletely. 

One thing she discovered the first night on board: The Russian had inhis stateroom a bundle. This had been hidden when she searched him onthe ice. To have a look into that bundle became her absorbing purpose. Three times she attempted to enter his stateroom. On the third attemptshe did actually enter the room, but so narrowly escaped having herlinen mask torn from her head and her identity revealed by the irateRussian, that she at last gave it up. 

Upon docking at Seattle both the Russian and the girl mingled with thecrowd on the dock and quickly disappeared. 

The clerks in Roman & Lanford's department store were more than mildlycurious regarding an Eskimo boy, who, entering their store that day anddisplaying a large roll of bills, demanded the best in women's wearingapparel. They had in stock a complete outfit, just the size that wouldfit the strange customer, who was no other than the Jap girl. 

 * * * * *

Johnny Thompson and Hanada, after two weeks of fruitless watching andwaiting in Nome, took a steamer for Seattle. Johnny had not been inthat city a day when, while walking toward the Washington Hotel, he felta light touch on his arm, and turned to look into the beaming face ofthe Jap girl. 

"You--you here?" he gasped in amazement. 

"Yes. "

"Why! You look grand, " he assured her. "Regular American girl. "

She blushed through her brown skin. Then her face took on a seriouslook:

"The Russian--" she began. 

"Yes, the Russian!" exclaimed Johnny eagerly. 

"He is here--no, not here. This morning he takes train for Chicago. To-night we will follow. We will get that man, you and I, and--Iyok-ok. "Her lips tripped over the last word. 

"Hanada, " Johnny corrected. 

"He has told you?"

"Yes, he is an old friend. "

"And mine too. Good! To-night we will go. We will get that man. Three ofus. That bad one!"

"All right, " said Johnny. "See you at the depot to-night. "

"Wait, " said the girl. Her hand still on his arm, she stood on hertiptoe and whispered in his ear:

"My name Cio-Cio-San; your friend, Hanada friend. Good-by. " Then she wasgone. 

Johnny walked to his hotel as in a dream. He had hoped to return to hisden, his job and to Mazie in Chicago, and in a quiet way, all mysteriesdissolved, to live his old happy life. But here were all the mysteriescarrying him right to his own city and promising to end--in what?Perhaps in some tremendous sensation. Who could tell? And the diamonds;what of them? He put his hand to his inner pocket; they were stillthere. Was he watched? Would he be followed? Even as he asked himselfthe question, he fancied that a dark form moved stealthily across thestreet. 

"Well, anyway, " he said to himself, "I can't desert my Jap friends. Besides, I don't want to. "

 * * * * *

"Chicago, " said Hanada some time later, as Johnny related hisconversation with Cio-Cio-San. "That means the end is near. "

The end was not so near as he thought. When it came it was not, alas! tobe for him the kind of end he fancied. 

"All right, " he said. "To-night we go to Chicago. "

On the trip eastward from Seattle, Johnny slept much and talked little. The Jap girl and Hanada occupied compartments in different cars andappeared to wish to avoid being seen together or with Johnny. This, heconcluded, was because there might be Russian Radicals on this verytrain. Johnny slept with the diamonds pressed against his chest and itwas with a distinct sense of relief that he at last heard the hollowroar of the train as it passed over the street subways, for he knew thismeant he was back in dear old Chicago, where he might have bitterenemies, but where also were many warm friends. 

CHAPTER XIV

THE MYSTERY OF THE CHICAGO RIVER

Johnny Thompson dodged around a corner on West Ohio street, then walkedhurriedly down Wells street. At a corner of the building which shadowedthe river from the north he paused and listened; then with a quickwrench, he tore a door open, closed it hastily and silently, and was upthe dusty stairs like a flash. At the top he waited and listened, thenturning, made his way up two other flights, walked down a dark corridor, turned a key in a lock, threw the door open, closed it after him, scratched a match, lighted a gas lamp, then uttered a low "Whew!" at thedust that had accumulated everywhere. 

Brushing off a chair, he sat down. For a few moments he sat there insilent reflection. Then rising, he extinguished the light, threw up thesash, unhooked some outer iron shutters, sent them jangling against thebrick wall, and drawing his chair to the window, stared reflectivelydown into the sullen, murky waters of the river. At last he was back inChicago!

The time had been when the fact that Johnny Thompson occupied this roomwas no secret to anyone who really wanted to know. Johnny had roomedhere when he first came to Chicago as a boy, working for six dollars aweek. When, in the years that followed, it had been discovered thatJohnny was quick as a bobcat and packed a wallop; when Johnny beganmaking easy money, and plenty of it, he had stuck to the old room thatoverlooked the river. When he had heard his country's call to go to war, he had paid three years' rent on the room and had locked the door. If henever came back, all good and well. If he did return, the old room wouldbe waiting for him, the room and the river. Now here he was once more. 

The river! The stream had always held a great fascination for him. Johnny had seen other rivers but to him none of them quite came up tothe old Chicago. In its silent, sullen depths lay power and mystery. The Charles River of Boston Johnny had seen, and called it a place ofplay for college boys. The Seine of Paris was a thing of beauty, not ofpower. The Spokane was a noisy blusterer. But the old Chicago was a grimand silent toiler. It bore on its waters great scows, lake boats, snorting, smoking tugs, screaming fire boats and police boats. Then, too, it was a river of mysteries. Down into its murky depths no eyecould peer to discover the hidden and mysterious burdens which itcarried away toward the Father of Waters. 

Yes, give Johnny the room by the old Chicago! It was dusty and grim; buttomorrow he would clean it thoroughly. Just now he wished merely to sithere and think for an hour. 

The time had been when Johnny had not cared who saw him enter thishaven; but to-day things were different. Since he had got into thisaffair with the Russian and his band he had had a feeling that he wasbeing constantly watched. 

There was little wonder at this, for did he not carry on his personforty thousand dollars' worth of rare gems? And did they not belong tosomeone else?

"To whom?" Johnny said the words aloud as he thought of it. 

His mind turned to his Japanese comrades, the girl and the man. He hadtold neither of them about the diamonds. Perhaps he should have done so, and yet he felt a strange reticence in the matter. 

He was to meet Hanada at eight o'clock. Hanada had never told him whythey were pursuing the Russian; why he could not be killed in Siberia;why he must not be killed or arrested if seen now, until he, Hanada, said the word. He had not told why he thought that the Secret Servicemen had committed a blunder in offering a reward for the Russian'scapture. 

As Johnny thought of it he wondered if he were a fool for sticking tothis affair into which he had been so blindly led. He had not shownhimself to his old boss or to Mazie. To them he was dead. He had lookedup the official record that very morning and had seen that he wasreported "Missing in Vladivostok; probably dead. "

Should he stick to the Russian's trail, a course which might lead tohis death, or should he take the diamonds to a customs office and turnthem in as smuggled goods, then tell Hanada he was off the hunt, wasgoing back to his old job and Mazie? That would be a very easy thing todo; and to stick was fearfully hard. Yet the words of his long timefriend, "Get that man, or it will be worse for your country and mine, "still rang in his ears. Was it his patriotic duty to stick?

And if he decided to go on with it, should he go to Hanada and ask for ashowdown, all cards on the table; or should he trust him to reveal thefacts in the case little by little or all at once, as seemed wise tohim? Well, he should see. 

Then, for a half hour, Johnny gave himself over to the wild, boyishreveries which the city air and the lights flickering on the waterawakened. At the end of that half hour he put on his hat and went out. He was to meet Hanada on the Wells street bridge. Where the Japanese wasstaying he did not know, but that it was with some fellow countrymen hedid not doubt. Cio-Cio-San was staying with friends, students at theUniversity. It had been arranged that the three of them should meet atodd times and various places to discuss matters relating to theirdangerous mission. In this way they hoped to throw members of the bandof Radicals off their tracks. 

Their conversation that night came to little. Hanada had found no traceof the Russian, nor had he come into contact with any other importantRadicals since reaching Chicago. Johnny's report was quite as brief. Hanada showed no inclination to reveal more regarding the matter, andJohnny did not question him. He had fully determined to see the thingthrough, cost what it might. 

It was after a roundabout walk through the deserted streets of thebusiness section of the city that they came to South Water street. Thisstreet, the noisiest and most crowded of all Chicago at certain hours, was now as silent and deserted as a village green at midnight. Here alate pedestrian hurried down its narrow walk: there some boatmanloitered toward his craft in the river. But for these the street wasdeserted. 

And it was here, of all places, that they experienced the first thrillof the night. A heavy step sounded on the pavement around the corner. The next instant a man appeared walking toward them. His face wasobscured by shadows, but there was no mistaking that stride. 

"That's our man, " whispered Johnny. 

"The Russian?" questioned Hanada in equally guarded tones. 

There was not time for another word, for the man, having quickened hispace was abreast of them, past them and gone. 

"I don't know. Couldn't see his face, " whispered the Jap. 

"Quick!" urged Johnny; "there's a short cut, an alley. We can meet himagain under the arc light. "

Down a dark alley they dashed. Crashing into a broken chicken crate, then sprinting through an open court, they came out on another alley, and then onto a street. 

They had raced madly, but now as they came up short, panting, they sawno one. The man had disappeared. 

Suddenly they heard steps on the cross street. 

"Turned the corner, " panted Johnny. "C'mon!"

Again they dashed ahead, slowing only as they reached the other street. 

Sure enough, halfway down the block they saw their man. He was walkingrapidly toward the bridge. Quickening their pace they followed. 

Distinctly they saw the man go upon the bridge. Very plainly they heardevery footstep on the echoing planks. Then, just as they were about tostep upon the bridge, the footsteps ceased. 

"Sh!" whispered Johnny, bringing his friend to a halt. "He's stopped;maybe laying for us. "

For a minute they stood there. The lapping of the water was the onlysound till, somewhere in the distance an elevated train rattled its waynorth. 

"C'mon, " said Johnny. "We've met that bird in worse places than this; wecan meet him again. "

But they did not meet him, although they walked the full length of thebridge. There was not a place on the whole structure where a man couldhide, but they searched it thoroughly. Then Johnny searched the sides, the abutments. He sent the gleam of his powerful flashlight into thedark depths beneath, but all to no purpose. The man was gone. 

"Humph!" said Johnny. 

"Hisch!" breathed Hanada. 

"Well, all I have to say, " observed Johnny presently, "is that if theold Chicago River has that fellow, he'll be cast ashore. The good oldChicago doesn't associate with any such. "

They stood there leaning on the wooden railing debating their next move, when a shot rang out. Instantly they dropped to the floor of the bridge. A bullet whizzed over their heads, then another and another. After thatsilence. 

"Get you?" whispered Johnny. 

"No. You?"

"Nope. "

Then a long finger of light came feeling its way along the murky watersto rest on the bridge. 

With a sigh of relief, Johnny saw that it came from a police-boat downstream. The light felt its way back and forth, back and forth across theriver, then up to the bridge and across that. It came to rest as itglared into their eyes. It blinked one, two, three times, then went out. 

"I'm glad they didn't hold it on us, " breathed Johnny. "In that lightanybody that wanted to could get a bead on us. "

Hearing heavy, hurrying footsteps approaching, they stood up well backagainst the iron braces. 

"Police!" whispered Johnny. 

"You fellows shoot?" demanded one of the policemen as they came up andhalted before the two boys. 

"Nope, " Johnny answered. 

"No stallin' now. "

"Search us, " Johnny suggested. "The shots were fired at us, though wherefrom, blessed if I know. Came right out of space. We'd just searched thebridge from end to end. Not a soul on it. "

"What'd y' search it fer?"

"A man. "

"W'at man?"

"That's it, " Johnny evaded. "We wanted to know who he was. "

The policemen conversed with one another in low tones for a moment. 

"One of the bullets struck a cross-arm; I heard it, " suggested Johnny. "You can look at that if it'll be any comfort to you. "

The policeman grunted, then following Johnny's flashlight, examined thespot where the bullet had flaked the paint from the bridge iron. 

"Hurum!" he grumbled. "That's queer. Bullet slid straight up the ironwhen it struck. Ordinarily that'd mean she was shot square against itfrom below and straight ahead, but that can't be, fer that brings hercomin' direct out of the river, which ain't human, nor possible. Therewasn't a boat nor a barge nor even a plank on the river when thesearchlight flashed from the gray prowler; was there, Mike?"

"Not even a cork, " said Mike. 

"Well, anyway, that clears youse guys, " grunted the leader. "Now youbetter beat it. "

Bidding Hanada good night, Johnny walked across the bridge, around fourblocks, then made a dash for his room. There was dust on his blankets, but he could shake it off. Anyway, he probably would not sleep much thatnight. Probably he would spend most of the night sitting by the window, listening to the lap of the waters of the old river and trying to solvethe strange problem of the bullets fired apparently from the depths ofthe stream. 

CHAPTER XV

THE CAT CRY OF THE UNDERWORLD

Dodging in front of a street car, Johnny turned abruptly to the rightand trailed a taxi for half a block; then he shot across the sidewalk tothe end of a dark alley. Then he flattened himself against the wall andlistened. Yes, it came at last, the faint thud of cautious footsteps. Hehad not thrown the man off the scent. 

"Well then, I will, " he muttered, gritting his teeth. Johnny was atrifle out of sorts to-night. The chase annoyed him. 

He dodged down the alley, then up a narrow court. Prying open the windowof an empty building, he crept in and silently slid the sash back in itsplace. Tiptoeing across the hall with the lightness of a cat, he creptup the dusty stairs. One, two, three flights he ascended, then feelingfor the rounds of a short ladder, he climbed still higher, to lift atrapdoor at last and creep out upon the roof. 

Once there he skulked from chimney to chimney until he had crossed theflat roofs of three buildings. The third had a trapdoor close to achimney. This he lifted, then dropped behind him. He was now in his ownbuilding. Panting a little from the exertion, he tiptoed down the hall, turned the key and entered his room. 

Having made sure that the iron blinds were closed, he snapped on alight. His eyes, roving around the room, fell presently upon somethingwhite on the floor. Johnny could see his own name scrawled upon it. There were but a few people in all the world who knew that JohnnyThompson had ever lived here. Probably all of those who did know thoughthim dead and buried in Russia. Who had written this note? Friend or foe?

He tore open the envelope and glanced at the note. It came to the pointwith brutal frankness. 

"Johnny Thompson: You are known to have in your possession rare gemswhich do not belong to you. You will please leave them on the doorstepof 316 North Bird place, and rap three times before you leave. 

"If not--"

That was all, save that in place of a signature there was a splotch ofred sealing wax. The wax had been stamped with an iron seal. The mark ofthe seal was that of the Radical Clan--the same as that on the envelopewhich contained the diamonds. 

"And that, I suppose, " whispered Johnny to himself, "means that if I donot leave the diamonds where I am told to I shall be flattened out likethat drop of wax. "

Switching out the light, he opened the blinds and took his old seat bythe window. He was at once absorbed in thought. So all his dodging andtwisting had not served to throw them off his track. They had discoveredhis den. And he must give up the diamonds and--

"If not--"

Those two words stood out as plainly before him as if they were flashedforth from an electric sign on the roof across the river. 

He was half minded to give the diamonds up, but not to those rascals. No, he would allow one of their spies to trail him to the Custom House, and there, before the man's very eyes, Johnny would take out theenvelope with the seal plainly showing, and hand the diamonds in assmuggled goods. 

There was but one objection to this plan; he still had a strange fancythat someway Cio-Cio-San had a rightful interest in those gems. Atleast, he was not sure she did not have. Until he had determined thetruth in this matter, he was loath to part with them. 

But in keeping them he was taking a risk. He might be attacked andkilled by that ruthless gang at any time. 

For a long time he sat, staring down at the river. He was not in a happymood. He was tired of all this trouble, fighting and mystery. On crowdedState street that afternoon, he had seen Mazie. That made it worse. Hehad never seen her look so well. She had changed; grown older, and hethought a little sadder. Was the sadness caused by the fact that shebelieved him dead? He dared to hope so. All this filled him with a maddesire to touch her hand once more, to speak to her, to assure her in ascore of ways that he was not dead. 

Then Hanada had disappointed him. He had hoped they would meet again andhave another conference that night; had hoped that the wise little Japwould have some solution of the mystery of the shots from the river, andthe strange disappearance of the man they had taken to be the Russian. But Hanada had said "No. " He had given no reason; had merely left thingsthat way. Hanada had been like that always; he never explained. Perhapshe did have some other important engagement; then why could he not tellJohnny of it? Why all this constant enshrouding of affairs in mystery?What did he, Johnny, know about the whole business anyway? Not a thing. He was only assured by the Jap that it was his duty to stick on thetrail of the Russian until it led somewhere in particular. He was not, in any circumstances, to have him arrested or killed without firstconsulting Hanada. 

"What rot!"

Johnny got up and paced the floor. Then, suddenly realizing that therewas no longer cause for secrecy as to his whereabouts, he threw on thelight and swung a punching bag down from the wall. 

This ancient bit of leather, which had hung unused for many months, gaveforth a volley of dust at first. But soon it was sending resoundingthwacks echoing down the hall from Johnny's right and left punch. 

Johnny even smiled as he sat down after a fifteen minutes round withthis old friend. He was greatly pleased at one thing; his left arm wasnow quite as good as his right. 

As he sat there, still smiling, his eyes fell on that note which hadbeen thrust under his door. A strange, wild impulse seized him. 

"So they know where I stay, " he muttered. "I'll see how near I can cometo finding out where they are hiding. "

Taking the envelope containing the diamonds from his pocket, he crowdedit down into the depths of his clothing; then, snapping off the light, he went out. 

Hastening down the street and across the bridge, he was soon threadingdeserted streets and dark alleys. In time he came out upon Bird place, a half street, ending in a wall. The passage was narrow, hardly morethan an alley. 

The night was exceptionally dark and the place cheerless--just thesetting for a crime. Lights behind drawn shutters were few. Only thevery wretched or very wicked haunted such habitations. 

Hugging the wall, Johnny sidled along toward 316. He knew the spotexactly, for though Johnny had never been of the underworld, he hadspent many a restless night prowling about in all parts of the city. Suddenly he flattened out in a doorway and stood motionless, breathingquietly. 

Had he heard the faint pat-pat of footsteps? Had he caught the dark blueof a shadow on yonder wall? For a full three minutes he stood there;then hearing, seeing nothing more, he glided out and resumed hissnake-like journey toward the door of 316. 

This time he did not go far, for suddenly looming from dark doorwaysfour huge forms sprang at him. Johnny understood it all in a moment. Thenote was but a trick. They had not intended to trust him to leave thediamonds. They did not live at 316 at all. They merely had meant todraw him to this dark alley, then to "get" him. Well, they would findhim a tough nut to crack!

His right shot out, and a heavy bulk crashed to the pavement. His leftswung and missed. A wild creature sprang at his throat. Johnny's mindworked like lightning. Four were too many. They would get him. He musthave help. The cat cry of the underworld! He had known that cry twoyears before. He had many friends who would answer it. They hadintroduced themselves at his boxing bouts. They had liked him because heplayed a fair game and "packed a winning wallop. " If any of them werenear they would come to his aid. 

Drawing a long breath, he let forth a piercing scream that rose and felllike the wail of a fire siren. At the same time he jabbed fiercely withhis right. The man collapsed, but at that instant a third man struckJohnny on the head and, all but unconscious, he reeled and fell to theground. 

Faintly as in a dream, he heard guttural murmurs. He felt the buttonsgive as his coat was torn open. Then there came the ringing report of ashot from the distance. 

"Da bolice!" came in a guttural mutter. 

 * * * * *

The reason Hanada would not meet Johnny on this particular night wasthat he had a pressing engagement with other persons. Just at seveno'clock he might have been seen emerging from an obscure street. Hehailed a taxi-cab and getting in, drove due north across the river andstraight on until, with a sharp turn to the right, he drove two blockstoward the lake, only to turn again to the right and cross the riveragain. He had gone south several blocks when suddenly signaling thedriver to stop, he handed him a five-dollar bill and darted into thewelcoming portals of a vast hotel. 

The next moment he was crossing marble floors to enter a heavilycarpeted parlor. This, too, he crossed. Then the walls of the roomseemed to swallow him up. 

In a small, dimly lighted anteroom his coat and hat were taken by aservant. He then stepped into a room where a round table was spread withspotless linen and rare silver. There were five chairs ranged aroundthe table. Hanada frowned as he counted them. 

"It seems, " he murmured, "that the man who attends to the serving doesnot know that Hanada dines with the Big Five to-night. Ah well! There istime enough and room enough. We shall dine together; never fear. "

He stepped back in the shadow of the heavy curtains and waitedexpectantly. 

"The Big Five, " he murmured. "Some of America's richest, surelyChicago's greatest millionaires. And Hanada dines with them. They willlisten to him, too. They will hang on his word. The Big Five willlisten. And if they say 'Yes, ' if they do--" He drew in his breathsharply. "If they do we will set the world afire with a great, newthing. They have the money, which is power, and I have the knowledge, which is greater power. "

There was a sound outside the door. A servant entered and, bowingdeferentially, moved toward the table. He deftly rearranged the chairsand the silver. When he left, there were six places set. Hanada smiled. 

Had one been permitted to look in upon the diners in this simplyappointed room of one of America's great hotels that night, he mighthave wondered at the manner in which five of Chicago's great men hungupon the words of one little Japanese, who, now and then as he spoke, asif to indicate the vastness and grandeur of his theme, spread his handsforth in a broad gesture. 

The meal ended, his speech concluded, all questions answered, he at lastrose, and with a low bow said:

"And now, gentlemen, I leave the proposition with you. Please do notforget that it is a great and glorious venture; a new and gloriousempire! An honor to your country and mine. "

He was gone. 

For some time the five men sat in silence. Then one of them spoke:

"Is he mad?"

"Are we all mad?" questioned a second. His voice was husky. 

"Well, " said a third, "it sounds like a dream, a dream of greatpossibilities. We must sleep over it. "

Without another word they moved out of the room. The meeting, one ofthe most momentous in the history of the century, perhaps, was ended. 

 * * * * *

When Johnny Thompson heard the shot and the guttural mutter, "Dabolice!" he made a final effort to rally his senses and to put up afight. 

He did succeed in struggling to his knees, but to fight was unnecessary. Just as another shot sent echoes down the alley and a bullet sang overtheir heads, his assailants took to their heels. 

A slight, slouching figure came gliding toward Johnny. 

"Jerry the Rat!" he murmured; then to the man himself:

"So, it's you, Jerry. Haven't seen you for two years. "

Through blear-eyes the little fellow surveyed Johnny for a second. 

"Johnny Thompson, de clean guy wot packs a wallop!" he exclaimed. "Deredey go! We can get 'em!" He pointed down the alley. 

"Got a gun?" asked Johnny, standing a bit unsteadily. 

"Two of 'em. C'mon. We ken git de yeggs yit. "

Johnny grasped the gun held out to him and the next instant wasfollowing the strangely swift rat of the waterfront. 

"Dere dey go!" exclaimed the little fellow. 

Down an alley they rushed, then out on a broad, but dimly lightedstreet. They were gaining on the gang. They would overhaul them. Therewould be a battle. Johnny figured this out as he ran, and tried todiscover the mechanism of his weapon. 

But at that juncture the pursued ones dashed through an open window of adeserted building which flanked the river. 

"Dere dey go! De cheap sluggers!" exclaimed Jerry. 

Leaping across the street, he reached the window only a moment after thelast of the four had slammed it down. 

But the men had paused long enough to throw the catch. It took Jerry afull minute to break its grip. 

When, at last, they vaulted cautiously over the sill and flashed theirlight about the interior, they found the place empty. 

"Dey's flew de coop!" whispered Jerry. "Now wot's de chanst of demmakin' a clean git away?"

They made a hurried examination of all possible exits. All the windowledges and doorsills were so encrusted with dust that one passingthrough them would be sure to leave his mark. That is, all but one were. One windowsill had apparently been swept clean. But that window facedthe river. As they threw it up, and looked down from its ledge, they sawonly the murky waters of the river swirling beneath them. 

Johnny studied the situation carefully, and the more he studied, themore baffled he became. If a boat had been tied to the windowsill therewould have been marks on the casing. There were no such marks; yet, thefugitives had gone that way. He thought of the shots fired from theriver the previous night and tried to connect the two. He could not makeit out. 

"Dey's gone!" said Jerry the Rat. "Did dey fleece y'?"

Johnny smiled. "They were trying to croak me, Jerry, and they nearlydid it. Got a bump on my head big as a turkey buzzard's egg. "

"Who wuz dey?"

"That's what I don't know altogether. Say, Jerry, are there some toughcharacters hanging around the river these days that ain't regularcrooks?"

"Is dey? Dere's a mess of 'em!"

"Where do they stay?" asked Johnny eagerly. 

"Dat's it. " The little fellow scratched his head. "I bin skulkin' 'round'em to find out. Sometimes I follers 'em, like now. Dey always drop outlike this. Dey's queer. Dey ain't regular crooks, nor regular guyseither. Dey's cookin' soup for sump'n big. "

"That's what I think, " said Johnny. "What are they like?

"Dey's five Roosians, three Heinies, one Wop, an' one Jap, I seen. "

"Say, Jerry, " said Johnny suddenly, "do you want to earn some honestmoney?"

"Not work?"

"No, spyin'. "

"Not on me pals? Not on regular crooks?"

"No, on these queer ones. "

"I'm on. Wot's de lay?"

"Find where they stay. Hunt them day and night till you do. Here's atwenty. There's more where that came from. There's a century note if youget them. Get me?"

The Rat ducked his head in assent. 

"Then good night. "

"Night, " he mumbled. 

They were out of the building now and Johnny made his way cautiouslyback to his room. He had had quite enough for one night. Once he pausedto thrust his hand beneath his vest. Yes, the diamonds were still there. His assailants had not had time to find them. He was not sure whether hewas glad or sorry. 

CHAPTER XVI

CIO-CIO-SAN BETRAYED

Very alert, Johnny Thompson at the stroke of eight the next night creptfrom a narrow runway between two buildings and walked briskly down thestreet. He had reached the runway by a route known only to himself. Hewas sure that for a time, at least, he would not be followed. At last hereached the bridge which was coming to harbor many mysteries for him. Halfway across the span he paused, and sinking into the shadow of aniron girder, began watching the surface of the water. 

He was, in fact, attempting to understand those murky depths. From hisroom he had detected a strange light. Either reflected on the water orshining up through it, this light appeared a pale yellow glow, such ashe had often seen given off by the jelly fish in the Pacific. That therewas no such jelly fish to be found in fresh water he knew quite well. And he had never in his life noticed that glow in the river. 

Now, as he surveyed the surroundings, he realized that the light couldnot have been reflected from any illumination in street or building. Theglow from the water had appeared close to the wall of the empty buildingthrough which his four assailants of the night before had made goodtheir escape. 

As he stood there, slouching in the shadows, Johnny gave a great start;the light had appeared again. Beyond question it was beneath the water, not shining upon it. From this vantage point the light seemed stronger. It appeared for a few seconds, then disappeared again. Johnny scratchedhis head. What could it mean? For some time he stood in a brown study, then he laughed silently to himself. 

"Probably phosphorescent substances being sent out from the drainpipe ofa factory or chemical laboratory, " he decided. 

At that instant he was all alert. His hand closed on his automatic. Astealthy footfall had sounded on the bridge. 

"Oh! It's you, " he whispered a moment later. 

Hanada grinned as he gripped Johnny's hand. "Thought I might miss you, "he whispered. 

The two were soon engaged in animated conversation. Their talk had to dowith Johnny's adventure of the night before and the informationregarding the Radicals furnished by Jerry the Rat. Hanada appearedunduly excited at the news. 

"It seems, " said Johnny, "that there must be a national conference ofRadicals meeting somewhere near this river. Perhaps our old friend, theRussian of Vladivostok, is a delegate. "

Hanada shot him a swift glance, as if to say: "How much do you knowabout this matter anyway?"

But for some time the Japanese did not speak; then it was concerning anentirely different affair. Cio-Cio-San had been visited by a fellowcountryman who, although wholly unknown to her, had appeared to know agreat deal about her private business. He had informed her that she had, within the last year, been robbed of some very valuable property andprofessed to have a knowledge of its whereabouts. If she would accompanyhim he would see that it was restored to her. The actions of the man hadaroused her suspicions and she had refused to go. However, she had askedhim to give her a day to think it over. He was to return at nine thisnight. 

"Some nifty little mind reader, that Jap, " smiled Johnny. "Tell him tocome round and locate my long lost uncle's buried treasure. "

However, though he passed the matter off as a jest, he was doing somevery serious thinking about this rather strange affair. He had nevertold Hanada about the diamonds. Neither had he told of the note whichhad been thrust under the door. Now he remembered that Jerry the Rat hadspoken of a Jap as a member of the Radicals, and he wondered ifCio-Cio-San's visitor was the same man. If that were so, then what washis game? Was he planning to lead Cio-Cio-San into a trap? Certainly ifthe treasure the strange Jap had spoken of as having been stolen fromthe Japanese girl was the envelope of diamonds, and they had hoped torecover them from Johnny that night, they would have no intention ofrestoring them to Cio-Cio-San. 

"I'd advise her, if I were you, " said Johnny slowly, "to find out asmuch as she can, and not take too many chances. The man may be one ofthe Radicals, and he may be using the supposed treasure as a decoy. Atthe same time, if she handles the affair discreetly enough, she may beable to assist you in locating the Russian and his band, which, I takeit, is your chief end and aim in life just now. "

Hanada sent him another penetrating glance. "You have guessed thatmuch, " he admitted. "Well, soon I may be able to tell you all. In themeantime, if you need more money to pay this Jerry--Jerry, what was ityou called him?"

"Jerry the Rat. "

"Yes, yes, Jerry the Rat. If you need more money for him, I can get youmore, plenty more. But, " the lines of his face grew tense, "we must findthem and soon, or it may be too late. We must act quickly. "

Hanada had not said one word of his affairs of the night before, nordid he now as they were about to part. 

Dull and heavy, there came the tread of feet on the bridge. 

"The police!" whispered Johnny. 

Hanada seemed distinctly nervous. 

As the two patrolmen came abreast of them one of them flashed his light. 

Hanada cringed into the shadows. 

"Well, " said a deep voice, "here's luck! Youse guys come with us. Youseguys is wanted at the station. "

"What for?" Johnny demanded. 

"Youse guys know well enough. Treason, they call it. "

"Treason?" Johnny gave a happy laugh. "Treason? They'll have hard workto prove that. "

 * * * * *

Had one been privileged to see Cio-Cio-San at the moment Johnny Thompsonand his friend were arrested, he might easily have imagined that she wasback in Japan. The room in which she paced anxiously back and forth wasJapanese to the final detail. The floor was covered thickly withmattings and the walls, done in a pale blue, were hung everywhere withlong scrolls of ancient Japanese origin. Here a silver stork stood in apool of limpid blue; there a cherry orchard blossomed out with all theextravagant beauty of spring, and in the corner a pagoda, with sloping, red-tile roof and wide doors, proclaimed the fact that the Japanese werea people of art, even down to house building. Silk tapestries of varyingtints hung about the room, while in the shadows a small heathen godsmiled a perpetual smile. 

But it was none of these things that the girl saw at that moment. Thisroom, fitted up as it had been by rich Japanese students, most certainlyhad brought back fond memories of her own country. But at this instant, her eyes turned often to a screen behind which was a stand, and on thatstand was a desk telephone. 

Hanada had promised to consult Johnny Thompson regarding the strangeproposition of the unknown Japanese. He had promised to call her atonce; by eight-thirty at the latest. The stranger was to return for hisanswer at nine. It now lacked but ten minutes of that hour, and no callhad come from Hanada. She could not, of course, know that the men onwhom she depended for counsel were prisoners of the police. So she pacedthe floor and waited. 

Five minutes to nine and yet no call. Wrinkles came to her forehead, herstep grew more impatient. 

"If he does not call, what shall I do?" she asked herself. 

Then there came the sharp ring of the telephone. She sprang to theinstrument, but the call was for another member of the club. 

Three minutes in which to decide. She walked thoughtfully across thefloor. Should she go? Her money was now almost gone. It was true that atreasure, which to many would seem a vast fortune, had disappeared fromher father's house over night. It had been taken by force. And she knewthe man who had taken it; had followed him thousands of miles. Now therehad come to her a man of her own race, who assured her that the treasurewas not in the possession of the man who had stolen it, but in thepossession of an honest man who would willingly surrender it to her, providing only he could be made certain that it was to go directly intoher hands. That this might be, he demanded that she meet him at acertain place known to the strange Japanese. There she might prove herproperty. The story did seem plausible--and her need was great. Soon shewould be cast out upon the world without a penny. So long as she hadmoney she was welcome at this club; not longer. 

There came the purring of a muffled bell in the hall. He had come. 

Should she go? A mood of reckless desperation seized her. 

"I will, " she declared. 

The next instant she was tucking a short, gleaming blade beneath hersilk middy and then drawing on a long silk coat. 

The man waited in the hallway. He was doubtless prepared for anotherextended argument, but none came. Instead, the girl walked down thesteps with him and into a waiting taxi. 

It was a rather long ride they took. First speeding along between rowsof apartment houses they at last dashed into the business section ofthe city. The stranger sat in one corner of the cab, not saying a word. Passing through the business section, they approached the river. It wasthen that Cio-Cio-San's heart began to be filled with dread. She hadheard of many dark deeds done down by the river. But after all, whatcould they want of her, a poor Japanese girl, almost without funds?

The cab came to a stop with a jolt. A tall building loomed above them. The strange Japanese held the door open that she might alight. Shestepped to the sidewalk, and, at that instant, strong arms seized her, pinning her arms to her sides, while a coarse cloth was drawn tightlyover her mouth. She then felt herself being pushed through space, andthe next moment heard the muffled echoes of the footsteps of hercaptors. They were in the basement of some great deserted building, thesound told her that. 

"Betrayed! Betrayed!" her mind kept repeating. "Betrayed by one of myown people!"

CHAPTER XVII

A THREE-CORNERED BATTLE

While Johnny and Hanada were being led away to the patrol box a youngman came running up. He was a reporter, out scouting for news. 

"Who's that?" he asked, as he caught a glimpse of Johnny's face. 

"Johnny Thompson, you nut!" growled the policeman. "Didn't you neverview that map of his before?"

"Yes, but Johnny Thompson's dead. "

"All right, have it your own way. "

"What's the charge?"

"Conspiracy. Now beat it. "

The youth started on a run for the nearest telephone. He had hit upon afirst page story. A half-hour later every newsboy in the downtowndistrict was shouting himself hoarse, and the words he shouted werethese:

"All about Johnny Thompson. Johnny Thompson, featherweight champion. Alive! Arrested for conspiracy! Extry!"

The theatre crowds were thronging the streets, and the newsies reaped arich harvest. Among those in the throng was Mazie Mortimer, JohnnyThompson's one-time pal. She had gone to the theatre alone. When Johnnywas in Chicago, she had gone with him, but now no one seemed to quitetake his place. 

As she hastened to the elevated station the shouts of the newsboysstruck her ears. At first she heard only those two electrifying words, "Johnny Thompson. " Then she listened and heard it all. 

Had she not been held up and hurried along by the throng, she would havefallen in a faint. As it was her senses seemed to reel. "JohnnyThompson! Alive! Arrested! Conspiracy!" It could not be true. 

Breaking away from the crowd, she snatched a paper from a boy, flung hima half-dollar, then hurried to the corner, where, beneath an arclightshe read the astounding news. Again it seemed that her senses woulddesert her. With an effort she made her way to a restaurant where a cupof black coffee revived her. 

For a time she sat in a daze, utterly oblivious of the figure she cut--awell dressed, handsome young woman in opera cloak and silk gown, seatedat the counter of a cheap restaurant. 

Johnny Thompson alive, here in Chicago, arrested for conspiracy? Whatdid it mean? Could it mean that Johnny had been a deserter, that he hadbecome involved in the radical movement which, coming from Russia, seemed about to sweep the country off its feet? She could not quitebelieve that, but--

Suddenly a new thought sent her hurrying into the street. Hailing ataxi, she ordered the chauffeur to drive around the block until she gavehim further orders. Her thoughts now were all shaped toward a definiteend: Johnny Thompson, her good pal, was not dead. He was in Chicago andin trouble. If it were within her power, she must find him and help him. 

Studying the newspaper, she noted the point at which he had beenarrested. "Wells street bridge, " she read. "That means the MadisonStreet police station. "

Her lips were at the speaking tube in an instant. "Madison Streetpolice station, and hurry!" she ordered. "An extra five for speed. " Thetaxi whirled around a corner on two wheels; it shot by a policeman;dodged up an alley, and out on the other side, then stopped with a joltthat came near sending Mazie through the glass. 

"Here you are. " She thrust a bill in the driver's hand, then raced upthe steps and into the forbidding police station. 

A sergeant looked up from the desk as she entered. 

"Johnny Thompson, " she said excitedly. "I want to see Johnny Thompson!"

"I'd like to myself, miss, " he said smiling. "There never was afeatherweight like him. But he's dead. "

"Dead?" Mazie caught at her throat. 

"Sure. Didn't you read about it? Long time ago. Died in Russia. "

"Oh!" Mazie sank limply into a chair. "Then you haven't heard? He isn'tarrested? He isn't here?"

"Arrested?" The sergeant's face took on an amused and puzzled look;then he smiled again. "Oh, yes, there was something on the recordstonight saying he and a Jap was wanted for conspiracy. But take it fromme, lady, that's all pure bunk; some crook posing as Johnny Thompson, more than likely. I tell you, there never was a more loyal chap thanthis same Johnny; one of the first to enlist. "

"I--I know, " faltered Mazie. Now, for the first time, she noticed a manwho had entered after her. He stepped to the desk and asked a questionregarding a person she knew nothing of. Then he went silently out again. Mazie sat quite still, then rising, she smiled faintly at the sergeant. 

"I--I guess you must be right--but--but the papers are full of it. "

"Oh, the papers!" The officer spread his hands out in a gesture ofcontempt. "They'd print anything!"

As Mazie stepped out into the street she was approached by a man, andwith a little start, she noticed that it was the one who had entered thepolice station a few minutes before. Halting, she waited for him tospeak. 

"You were looking for Johnny Thompson?" He said the words almost in awhisper. 

"Yes. "

"Well, he is alive. He is not dead. He was arrested, but has beendischarged. I can take you to him. Shall I?"

"Oh, will you?" Mazie's voice echoed her gratitude. 

"Sure. There's a taxi now, " the man replied in a foreign accent. 

 * * * * *

Johnny had not been released; far from it. And yet it was true, he wasat that very moment free. His freedom was only from moment to moment, however; the kind of freedom one gets who runs away from the police. 

It was not Johnny's fault that he ran away either. They had beenfollowing the orders of the police to the letter, he and Hanada. Theyhad gone across the bridge with them, had meekly submitted to beinghandcuffed, had been waiting for the patrol-wagon, when things happened. 

Four men dashed suddenly from the darkness, and before the patrolmencould draw guns or clubs, before Johnny could realize what washappening, the officers were flat on the pavement, with hands and feettied. 

Johnny's brain worked rapidly. He understood all right. These men wereRadicals. He was the prize they were after--he and the diamonds. Oncelet him be taken to the police station, there to be searched, thediamonds would be lost to them forever. 

But handcuffed as he was, Johnny was not the boy to submit to beingkidnapped without a fight. As one of the Radicals leaped at him, he puthis hands up, as in a sign of surrender, then brought them, ironbracelets and all, crashing down on the fellow's head. The man went downwithout a cry. 

Hanada, too, had not been idle. He slipped the handcuffs from hisslender wrists and seizing the club of one of the fallen policemen, aimed a blow at the second man who leaped at Johnny. A moment later, Johnny heard his shrill whisper:

"C'mon!"

They were away like a flash. Down a dark alley, over a fence, withJohnny's handcuffs jangling, they sped. Then, after crossing a streetand leaping into a yard filled with junk and scrap iron, they paused. 

"Let's see, " said Hanada. 

He took Johnny's wrist, and after twisting the iron bracelets andworking for a moment with a bit of rusty wire, he unlocked the handcuffsand threw them in the scrap heap. 

"Clumsy things! Belong there, " he grunted. 

"But, " said Johnny slowly, "what's the big idea? They'll get us again, and running away will only get us in bad. They'll think those Radicalswere in cahoots with us. "

"I think not, " said Hanada. "We left them one or two of the Radicals forsamples. But that doesn't much matter now. They will get me, yes. Andthey will not let me go either, not even under bond. But you, you havedone nothing. They will let you go. My testimony will set you free. Thenyou must carry on the hunt and the fight, which they will keep me fromcontinuing because they do not know what they are doing. That's why Imust have a little time to talk to you before they take me; time toexplain everything, and to tell you how very important it is that youget that Russian, and all those that are with him. "

"My room, " whispered Johnny, now breathless with interest. "My room; thepolice do not know about it. We might be able to hide there for hours. We can reach it by the next bridge and by alleys and roofs. C'mon!"

CHAPTER XVIII

HANADA'S SECRET

Johnny smiled grimly. He was in his old place by the window overlookingthe river. Hanada was seated beside him. 

They could hear the many noises that rose from the street below. Now apatrol wagon came jangling by. Now a squad of policemen emerged from onealley to plunge down another. A riot call had been sent in and thestreets were alive with patrolmen and detectives all on the trail ofJohnny and his Japanese companion. By this time, too, they must be onthe trail of the Radicals. So far as Johnny knew, the Radicals had notactually interfered with the enforcement of the law. Now driven todesperation at the thought of the loss of that treasure which was stillin Johnny's possession, they had stepped over the line. From now on thepolice would be after them. Johnny was awakened from these reflectionsby the voice of Hanada. 

"That man, " the Japanese youth was saying, "that Russian, the one wehave followed so far, he is the big one, the head of the Radicalmovement, and he is at this moment in conference with all his chosenleaders. To-morrow, next day, next week, he may strike. And what willthe result be? Who can tell? In the whole world he has millions offollowers who will rise at his call. We must get him, get that manbefore it is too late. I am a member of the Japanese Secret Police. Andyou?"

"A plain American citizen, " answered Johnny, "which, by the laws of ourland, makes me a policeman, a marshal, a member of the secretservice--anything and everything, when the safety of my people, thestability of my government, is at stake. " Johnny's chest swelledproudly. 

"Oh! I understand, " breathed Hanada. 

"But, " said Johnny quickly, "you say we must get that man. I have hadopportunities to kill him, to let him be killed and always you havehindered me. Why?"

"Don't you see even now?" Hanada asked. "Don't you see that now is thetime to strike? Now he is meeting with his leaders. We must take him notalone, but the whole band. We must scatter them to the ends of theearth, put them in prison, banish them. Then the whole affair will beended forever. "

Hanada leaned forward. His eyes glowed; his words were sharp withexcitement. Johnny listened, breathless. 

"We must get them all, " he continued. "That is why our secret servicepeople allowed him to break through the lines at Vladivostok, and makehis way north to cross the Strait. That is why I followed him, as anEskimo, to dog his tracks and yet to protect him. That is why he couldnot be killed. He was to be a decoy; a decoy for the whole band. YourSecret Service, of which I thought you were a member, would not haveallowed him to cross to America. That is why I deserted you at EastCape. I thought you were of the Secret Service, and would have theRussian arrested as soon as his foot touched American soil. That is whyI said the offer of a reward for his arrest was a blunder. Don't yousee? We were to get them all. "

"But the girl, Cio-Cio-San?" Johnny questioned. 

"She is not of the secret police. She helps me as a friend, that's all, and I will help her if I can. "

Johnny wished to question him regarding the treasure, but something heldhim back. 

"So you see how it is. " Hanada spoke wearily. "We have gone so far, sovery far. Mebbe to-morrow, mebbe next day, we would have uncovered theirlair; but to-night the police are on my trail, for 'treason' they callit. Bah! It was a dream, a great and wonderful dream; a dream that wouldmean much for your country and mine. " His words were full of mystery. "But now they will arrest me, and you must carry on the hunt for theRussian and his band. This other thing, it can wait. It will come, sometime, but not now. "

"What other?" asked Johnny. 

Hanada did not answer. 

There came the stealthy shuffle of feet in the corridor. 

"They are coming, " whispered Hanada. "Remember my testimony will freeyou, but you must not stop; you must hunt as never before, you must getthat man!"

There came, not the expected tattoo of police billies on the door, but ashrill whisper through the key-hole:

"Johnny, " the voice said, "are you there? Let me in. I seen it! I seenit! I get the century note you promised me! Let me in!"

 * * * * *

When Mazie entered the taxi with the man who was an entire stranger toher she did it on the impulse of the moment. The swift sequence ofevents had carried her off her feet. First, she had been startled intothe hope that Johnny still lived; then she had been assured by thepolice sergeant that he could not possibly be living, only to be told amoment later by this stranger that he was still alive. 

Once she had settled back against the cushions and felt the jolt of thetaxi over the car tracks, she began to have misgivings. Was this a trap?Had she better call to the driver and demand to be allowed to alight? Aglance at her fellow traveler tended to reassure her. He wasundoubtedly a foreigner, but was an honest-looking fellow and neatlydressed. 

As the cab lurched into a side street toward the river, she againexperienced misgivings; but this time it was the faint hope stilllingering in her breast of seeing her good pal once more that kept herin her seat. 

The taxi paused before an old building which was enshrouded in darkness. She was ushered out of the taxi and the next instant, before she hadtime to cry out, she was bound and gagged. Her feet were tied as well asher hands, and she was hastily carried into the building. Through roomsand halls all dark as night she was half carried, half dragged, untilshe found herself out over the swirling waters of the river. 

Wild questions rushed through her brain. Was this murder? Bound andgagged as she was, would she be thrown into the river to drown? Why? Whowere these men? She had not believed until that moment that she had anenemy in the world. She knew no secrets that could inspire anyone tokill her. 

While all these thoughts were driving through her brain, she was beingslowly lowered toward the water. Down, down she sank until it seemed toher she could feel the wash of the water on her skirts. At that instant, when all seemed lost, strong arms seized her and she was carried down aclanking iron stairway. 

She caught her breath. She must now be far below the level of the water. What place was this she was being taken into? And why?

She was finally flung down upon a leather covered lounge. The nextmoment the whole place seemed to be sinking with her as if she were insome slowly descending elevator. 

Opening her eyes she looked about her. The place, a long and narrowcompartment, was dimly lighted by small incandescent bulbs. Thetrapdoor, or whatever it had been, through which she had been carried, was closed. 

Eight or ten men were grouped about the room, while in one of thedarkest corners cowered a little Japanese girl. One of the men cameclose to Mazie and untied her bonds, also removing the gag. She was nowfree to move and talk. She realized the utter uselessness of either. Thewalls of the room appeared to be of steel. There was a strangestuffiness about the air of the place; they must be either undergroundor under water. She did not know what was to be the next move, or whyshe was here. She realized only that she could do nothing. 

Instinctively she moved toward the girl in the corner. Before she hadgone half the distance, a man uttered a low growl of disapproval, andmotioned her to a chair. She sat down unsteadily and, as she did so, sherealized that the place had a slightly rolling motion, like a ship onthe sea. 

CHAPTER XIX

"I SEEN IT--A SUBMARINE!"

When Johnny realized that it was Jerry the Rat who was whispering at thekeyhole he admitted him at once. 

"I seen it! I seen it; a submarine! A German submarine in the river!"the Rat whispered excitedly. "I seen dose blokes wid me own eyes. Deywuz packin' a skirt thru de hatch. Den dey dropped in too. Den dey letdown the hatch, an' swush-swuey, down she went, an' all dey left was asplash in de ol' Chicago!"

"A submarine!" Johnny exclaimed. "That doesn't sound possible; not aGerman submarine surely!"

"The same, " insisted Jerry. "Some old tub. Saw her over by the MunicipalPier, er one like her. Some old fish!"

Johnny sat in silent thought. Hanada was gazing out of the window. Suddenly the Jap exclaimed in surprise:

"Did you see that? There it goes again! Lights flashing beneath thewater. It's the 'sub' for sure. Couldn't be anything else. "

"I have seen such lights before, " said Johnny, striving hard to maintaina sane judgment in this time of great crisis, "but I attributed it tophosphorus on the water. "

"Couldn't be!" declared Hanada. "Couldn't make a flicker and flash likethat. I tell you, it's a submarine, and the home of the Radicals. That'swhy we couldn't find them. That's where our Russian disappeared to thatnight on the bridge. That's where the shots came from. Remember rightfrom the center of the river? That's where your four assailants went towhen they vanished from that deserted building. It's the Radicals. C'mon! We may not be too late yet. We'll get them before the police getus. "

Together the three rushed from the room. 

"Did you say they were carrying a woman?" Johnny asked Jerry, as theyhastened down the stairs. 

"Yes, a skirt; a swell-looking skirt. Mouth gagged, hands tied, butdressed to kill, opry coat and everything!"

"Some more of their dirty work, " Johnny grumbled, "but we'll get themthis time. If we can convince the police that they're there they'll dragthe river and haul 'em out like a dead rat. "

 * * * * *

At the moment when the three men were hurrying down the stairs which ledfrom Johnny's room to the street, Mazie sat silently searching the facesof the men about her. Wild questions raced through her brain. Who werethese men? Why had they kidnapped her? What did they want? What wouldthey do to her? She shivered a little at the last question. 

That they were criminals she had not the least doubt. Only criminalscould do such a thing. But what type of criminal were they? In herresearch courses at the University she had visited court rooms, jailsand reformatories. Criminals were not new to her. But these men lackedutterly the markings of the average city criminal. Their eyes lacked thekeen alertness, their fingers the slim tapering points of theprofessional crook. Suddenly, as she pondered, there came to her mind aparagraph from one of her text-books on crime:

"There are two types of law-breakers. The one believes that the hand oforganized society is lifted against him; the other that he is bound tolift his hand against organized society. The first class are the commoncrooks of the street, and are ofttimes more to be pitied than blamed, for after all, environment has been a great factor in their undoing. Thesecond group are those men who are opposed to all forms of organizedsociety. They are commonly known as Radicals. There is little to be saidin their favor. Reared, more often than not, in the lap of a societyorganized for the welfare of all, they turn ungratefully against themother who nurtured and protected them. "

As she recalled this, Mazie realized that this group must be a band ofRadicals. Radicals? And one of them had promised to take her to herfriend, Johnny Thompson. Could it be that in Russia, that hotbed ofradicalism, Johnny had had his head turned and was at that moment amember of this band? It did not seem possible. She would not for amoment believe it. 

She was soon to see, for a man of distinctly Russian type, a short manwith broad shoulders, sharp chin and frowning brow, approached her, andin a suave manner began to speak to her. 

"You have nothing to fear from us, Miss, " he began. "We are gentlemen ofthe finest type. No harm will come to you during your brief stay withus; and I trust it may be very brief. "

Mazie heaved a sigh of relief. Perhaps there was going to be nothing sovery terrible about the affair after all. 

"We only ask a little service of you, " the Russian continued as he letdown a swinging table from the wall, and drawing a chair to it, motionedher to be seated. He next placed pen, ink and paper on the table. 

"You cannot know, " he said with a smile, "that your friend, JohnnyThompson, has been causing me a very great deal of trouble of late. "

Mazie felt a great desire to shout on hearing this, for it told herplainly that Johnny was no friend of this crowd. 

"No, of course you could not know, " the man went on, "since you have notseen him. I may say frankly that your friend is clever, and has a way, quite a way, of using his hands. "

Mazie did not need to be told that. 

"But it is not that of which I wish to speak. " The Russian took a stepnearer. Mazie, feeling his hot breath on her cheek, shrank back. "Yourfriend, as I say, has been troubling us a great deal, and in this he hasbeen misled, sadly misled. He does not understand our high and loftypurpose; our desire to free all mankind from the bonds of organizedsociety. If he knew he would act far differently. Of course, you cannotexplain all this to him, but you can write him a note, just a littlenote. You will write it now, in just another moment. First, I will tellyou what to say. Say to him that you are in great trouble and danger. Say that you may be killed, or worse things may happen to you, unless hedoes precisely as you tell him to do. Say that he is to leave a certainpackage, about which he knows well enough, at the Pendergast Hotel, tobe given to M. Kriskie. Say that he is, after that, to leave Chicago atonce and is not to return for sixty days. 

"See?" He attempted another smile. "It is little that we ask of you;little that we ask of him--virtually nothing. "

Mazie's heart was beating wildly. So that was the game? She was to be adecoy. She knew nothing of Johnny's actions, but knew they were for thegood of his country. How could she ask him to abandon them for her sake?

As her eyes roamed about the room they fell upon the little Jap girl. Inher face Mazie read black rage for the Russian, and a deep compassionfor herself. 

"Come, " said the Russian; "we are wasting time. Is it not so? You mustwrite. You should begin now. So, it will be better for all. "

For answer, Mazie took the paper in her white, delicate fingers and toreit across twice. Then she threw it on the floor. 

Quickly the man's attitude changed to wild rage. 

"So!" he roared. "You will not write? You will not? We shall see!"

He seized her arm and gripped it until the blood rushed from her face, and she was obliged to bite her lips to suppress a scream. 

"So!" he raged. "We shall see what happens to young women like you. First, we will kill your young friend, Johnny Thompson; then what goodwill your refusal have done? After that, we shall see what will happento you. We Radicals will win by fair means or foul. What does it matterwhat means we take, so long as the point has been won?"

Roughly he pulled her from the chair and flung her from him. 

Then the little Japanese girl was dragged to the chair. A Japanese man, whom Mazie had not before noticed, came forward. From his words andgestures Mazie concluded that he was going through, in the Japaneselanguage, the same program which the Russian had just finished. 

The results were apparently the same, for at the close the girl threwthe paper cm the floor and stamped upon it. At that the Russian's rageknew no bounds. With an imprecation, he sprang at the Japanese girl. AsMazie looked on in speechless horror, she fancied she caught the gleamof a knife in the girl's hand. 

But at that instant the attention of all was drawn to a man, who, afterpeering through some form of a periscope for a moment, had uttered asurprised exclamation. Instantly the Japanese man sprang to a strangelybuilt rifle which lay against the wall. This he fitted into a framebeside the periscope and thrust its long barrel apparently through theceiling of the compartment and into the water above. Adjusting a leverhere, and another there, he appeared to sight through a hollow tube thatran along the barrel. 

"Now, " said the Russian, a cruel gleam in his eye, "we shall kill yourtwo friends whom you so blindly refused to protect. Providence hasthrown them within our power. They are on the bridge at this moment. Therifle, you see, protrudes quite through the water. Our friend's aim istrue. "

The Japanese girl, seeming to grasp the import of this, sprang at herfellow countryman. But she was too late. There came the report of twoexplosions in quick succession. Through the periscope, Mazie caught aglimpse of two bodies falling on the bridge. Then she closed her eyes. Her senses reeled. 

This lasted but a moment. Then her eyes were on the little Jap girl. She had dropped to the floor, as if crushed; but there was a dark gleamof unutterable hate in her eyes. She was looking at the Japanese man, who, after firing the rifle, had turned and was going through a doorinto a rear compartment. 

Like a flash, the Jap girl sprang after him. With a cry that died on herlips, Mazie followed, and as she entered the compartment slamming theheavy metal door, she threw down the iron clamps which held it. 

They were now two to one, but that one was a man. However, there was nocall for effort on her part. Like a tigress the Japanese girl, Cio-Cio-San, sprang at the man of her own country. 

"You traitor!" she gasped. "You have betrayed me, yourfellow-countryman, and murdered my friend!" and she drove her daggerinto his breast to the hilt. 

Mazie closed her eyes and sat down dizzily. When she dared look up, shesaw the man sprawled on the floor, and the girl crouching beside him, like a wild beast beside her kill. 

Seeming to feel Mazie's eyes upon her, Cio-Cio-San turned and smiledstrangely, as she said:

"He is dead!"

CHAPTER XX

AT THE BOTTOM OF THE RIVER

The Russian had told the truth when he said the friends of Mazie andCio-Cio-San were on the bridge. Johnny and Hanada had rushed from theroom and had been standing there straining their eyes for a trace ofthat strange light beneath the water, when the first shot rang out. Butthe Russian had not counted on the extraordinary speed with which Johnnycould drop to earth. 

Before the second shot could be fired, Johnny was flat on the surface ofthe bridge, quite out of range. Hanada had not fared so well. The firstshot had been aimed at him and had found its mark. He lay all crumpledup, groaning in mortal agony. 

"Get you?" Johnny whispered. 

"Yes, " the boy groaned, "but you--you get that man. "

There came the tramp of feet on the bridge. The police had heard theshots. The long finger of light from the police boat again felt its wayback and forth through the darkness. 

"D' you shoot?" demanded the first policeman to arrive. 

"No! No! They didn't do it, " a second man interrupted before Johnnycould reply. "It came from the river. I saw the flash. Devils of theriver's deep! What kind of a fight is this, anyway?"

"I seen it! I seen it!" It was Jerry the Rat who now broke into thegathering throng. "I seen it; a German sub. "

"A submarine!" echoed a half dozen policemen at once. 

"I think he is right, " said Johnny. "You better drag the river. "

"Hello!" exclaimed one of the officers. "If this ain't the same two guyswe've been looking for? Johnny Thompson and the Jap. "

"You are right, " said Johnny disgustedly, "but for once use a littlereason. There are world crooks down there in the river and they havesome helpless woman there as hostage. Perhaps by this time they may bekilling her. I'll keep. I can't get away; not for good. I'm known thecountry over, beside your charge against me is false, idiotic. "

"Yes, yes, " it was Hanada's hoarse whisper. "Take me to a hospital. I'lltell all and you will know he was not in it at all. Let him help you. And--and, for God's sake, get that man. "

He sank back unconscious. 

"Here, Mulligan, " ordered a sergeant, "you and Murphy take this Jap tothe Emergency quick. You, Kelly and Flannigan, get over to the box andcall the police boats with drags. Tell 'em to drag the river fromMadison street in one direction and from the lake in the other. Itsounds like a dream, but this thing has got to be cleared up. Them shotscome from the river sure's my name's Harrigan. We got to find how it'sdone. "

A half hour later, two innocent looking police boats moved silently upthe river from Madison street bridge. They traveled abreast, keepinghalf the river's width between them. From their bows there protruded toright and left, heavy iron shafts. From these iron shafts, at regularintervals, there hung slender but strong steel chains. These chainsreaching nearly to the bottom of the river were fitted up at the lowerend with heavy pronged steel hooks. At that same moment, two similarlyequipped boats started up the river from the lake. They were combing theriver with a fine tooth comb. 

 * * * * *

Meanwhile the men beneath the surface of the river were not idle. Theydid not realize the danger which their last act had drawn them into andtherefore did not attempt to escape by running their craft out into thelake. But they did have other matters to attend to. One of their numberwas locked in the rear compartment. His fate was unknown to them. Thismuch they did know, he had not unfastened the door nor answered whenthey called to him. 

After vainly pounding and kicking the door, they lifted a heavy steelshaft and using this as a battering ram, proceeded to smash the doorfrom its fastenings. At first this did not avail. But at last eachsucceeding blow left a slightly larger gap between the door and itssteel jamb. Then suddenly, after a violent ram, which sent echoesthrough the compartment, the lower catch gave way. With a hoarse shoutthe Russian urged his men to redoubled effort. Three more times theybacked away to come plunging forward. The third blow struck the door atthe very spot where the fastening still hung. And then, with a creakinggroan the door gave way. 

Just inside the door, Mazie stood tense, motionless, her armsoutstretched in terror. Fingers rigid, lips half-parted in a scream, shestared at the door. In the doorway stood the Russian, a knife gleamingin his hand. For a second his eyes searched the room. Then they fell onthe body of the Jap huddled on the floor. Rage darkened his face as theRussian took a step forward. 

At that instant there had come a dull sound of metal grating on metal. The Russian toppled over on his side and the two girls were thrown tothe floor. 

The chamber had given a sudden lurch. The next instant it rolled quiteover, piling the two women and the corpse in a heap and sending the doorshut with a bang. The Russian had fallen outside. The craft rolled over, once, twice, three times and then hung there, with the floor for itsceiling. 

Overcome with fright and misery, Mazie did not stir for a full minute, then she dragged herself from the gruesome spot where she lay. 

She gave one quick glance at the door. It appeared to have been wedgedsolidly shut. Then she turned to Cio-Cio-San, who also had arisen. 

"What can have happened?" Mazie asked in a voice she could scarcelybelieve was her own. 

What had happened was this: one of the hooks on the police boat hadcaught in an outer railing of the submarine. The giant iron fish washooked. 

To throw other drags, fastened on longer chains, into the sub; to sendtugs and police boats snorting backward; to tighten the chains and drawthe sub to the surface, to whirl it about until the hatchway was oncemore at the upper side, this was merely a matter of time. 

When the Radicals saw what had been done, they doubtless realized thatif they refused to come out the lid would be blown off and they wouldbe likely to perish in the explosion. They had apparently planned tocharge the police and attempt an escape, for the Russian came first witha rush, a pistol in each hand. But Johnny Thompson's good right armspoiled all this. He had leaped to the surface of the sub and when theRussian appeared he gave him a blow under the chin that lifted him offhis feet and sent him plunging into the river. 

Seeing this the other members of the gang surrendered. 

Johnny was the first man below. Seeing the closed door to the right, hehammered on it, shouting:

"C'mon out, we're the police. "

Slowly the door opened. There before him stood Mazie. 

"Mazie!" Johnny's eyes bulged with astonishment. 

"Johnny!" There was a sob in her voice. Then catching herself, sheglanced down at her wrinkled and blood-bespattered dress. 

"Johnny, " she implored, "for goodness' sake get me out of this horridplace so I can change these clothes. "

"There's decent enough dresses at the police station, " suggested asmiling officer. 

"Call the wagon, " said Johnny. 

Soon they were rattling away toward the station, Mazie, Cio-Cio-San, andJohnny. 

"Johnny, " Mazie whispered, "you didn't desert, did you?"

"Did you think that?" Johnny groaned in mock agony. 

"No, honest I didn't, but what--what did you do?"

"Just got tired of waiting for Uncle Sam to bring me home from Russia, so I walked, that's all. Here's my discharge papers, all right. Andhere's my transportation. "

With a smile Johnny handed her the two crumpled papers. 

"You see, " he exclaimed, "a Russian brigand got me in the left arm whenI was guarding the Trans-Siberian Railroad. They sent me to thehospital, then gave me my discharge. Said I'd be no more good as asoldier. And after waiting for a boat that never seemed to come I hitout for the north. Nothing crooked about that at all, but I had to be abit sly about it anyway, for Uncle Sam don't like to have you takechances even if you are discharged. "

"Oh! Johnny, that's grand!" murmured Mazie. 

The rest of the journey was accomplished in silence. Now and again Maziegave Johnny's arm a little squeeze, as if to make sure he was stillthere. 

"Gee, kid, " Johnny exclaimed as Mazie reappeared, after a half hour inthe matron's room. "You sure do look swell. "

She was dressed in the plain cotton dress furnished by the city todestitute prisoners. But the dress was as spotlessly clean as wasMazie's faultless complexion. 

"Gee, Mazie!" Johnny went on, "I've seen you in a lot of glad rags butthis tops them all. Looks like you'd just come from your ownkitchenette. "

Mazie bit her lip to hide her confusion. Then blushing, she said:

"Johnny, I'm hungry. When do we eat?"

"I know a nice place right round the corner. C'mon. Where'sCio-Cio-San?"

"Gone to the Emergency hospital. "

"Hanada, " Johnny exclaimed. "I must find out about him. "

"Just came from there myself, " said the police sergeant, a kindly lightin his eyes. "I'm sorry to tell you, but your friend's checked in. "

"Dead?"

"Dead, " answered the officer, "but he lived long enough to know that theband of world outlaws was captured. He died happy knowing that he hadserved his country well, and I guess that's about all any Jap asks. "

"Oh, yes, one more thing, " he went on; "he cleared up that little matterof conspiracy before he died. Something that concerned him alone. Youweren't in it. His part, well, you might call it treason, then again youmightn't. Considering what he's done for this country and his, we don'tcall it treason. It's been sponged off the slate. "

"I'm glad to hear that, " sighed Johnny, as he turned to rejoin Mazie. 

CHAPTER XXI

THE OWNER OF THE DIAMONDS

Johnny did not return to his room that night. After reporting to thepolice station and letting them know where he might be found if needed, he secured a room in one of Chicago's finest hotels, and pulling downthe blinds turned in to sleep until noon. 

When he awoke he remembered at once that he had several little mattersto attend to. Hanada's funeral would be cared for by his own people. Buthe must see Cio-Cio-San; he must get the hundred dollars promised toJerry the Rat and he must put in a claim for the thousand dollars rewardoffered for the arrest of the Russian. He need bother his head no longerabout the captured Radicals. There was plenty of evidence aboard thecraft to condemn them to prison or deportation. 

When he came down to the hotel desk he found a letter waiting for him. He opened this in some surprise and read it in great astonishment. Itwas from one of Chicago's richest men; a man he had never met and indeedhad never dreamed of meeting. Yet here was the man's note requesting himto meet him in his private office at five o'clock. 

"All right, I'll do that little thing, " Johnny whispered to himself, "but meantime I'll go out to the University and see Cio-Cio-San. "

An hour later he found himself sitting beside the Japanese girl on thethick mats of that Japanese room at her club. 

"Cio-Cio-San, " he said thoughtfully, "I remember hearing you tell ofhaving been robbed of a treasure. Did you find it last night in thesubmarine?"

"No, " she said softly. "Last night was a bad night for me. I lost mybest friend. He is dead. I lost my treasure. I do not hope to ever findit now. "

"Cio-Cio-San, " Johnny said the name slowly. "Since you do not hope everto see your treasure again, perhaps you will tell me what it was. "

"Yes, I will tell you. You are my good friend. It was diamonds, onehundred and ten diamonds and ten rubies, all in a leather lined envelopewith three long compartments. The rubies were at the bottom of theenvelope. "

"Then, " said Johnny, "you are not so far from your treasure after all. Afew of the stones are gone, but most of them are safe. "

He drew from his pocket the envelope which he had carried so far and atsuch great peril. 

Had he needed any reward, other than the consciousness of having done anhonest deed, he would have received it then and there in the glad crythat escaped from the Japanese girl's lips. 

When she had wept for joy, she opened the envelope and shaking out thethree loose stones dropped them into Johnny's hand. 

"What's that?" he asked. 

"A little reward. A present. "

Taking the smallest of the three between finger and thumb he gave herback the others. 

"One is enough, " he told her. "I'll give it to Mazie. "

"Ah, yes, to Mazie, your so beautiful, so wonderful friend, " shemurmured. Then, after a moment, "As for me, I go back to my own people. I shall spend my life and my fortune helping those very much to bepitied ones who have lost all in that so terrible Russia. "

As Johnny left that room, he thought he was going to have that diamondset in a ring and present it to Mazie the very next day. But he was not. That interview with one of Chicago's leading bankers at five o'clock wasdestined to change the course of his whole life; for though the Big Fivehad never decided to act in unison with Hanada in his wild dream of aKamchatkan Republic--the plan which had brought his arrest as aconspirator--they did propose to work those Kamchatkan gold mines on anold concession, given them by the former Czar, and they did propose thatJohnny take charge of the expedition. 

THE END