Mystery Stories for Boys

PANTHER EYE

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[Illustration: "She's tied. There's terror in her eyes.... "]

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Mystery Stories for Boys

PANTHER EYE

ByROY J. SNELL

The Reilly & Lee Co. Chicago

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Copyright 1921ByThe Reilly & Lee Co. 

All Rights Reserved

Made in U. S. A. 

Panther Eye

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE I A Mysterious Death 7 II "Fifteen Men on the Dead Man's Chest" 18 III A Fight in the Night 32 IV Chukche Treachery 43 V The Big Cat 54 VI In the Grip of Terror 68 VII The Mystery of Mine No. 1 79 VIII Three Men Disappear 90 IX Startling Perils 101 X Playing a Lone Hand 117 XI Dangling in Mid Air 132 XII The Russian Dagger 144 XIII Cio-Cio-San 156 XIV Nearing the City of Gold 164 XV Trapped 178 XVI The City Of Gold 186 XVII Kidnapped 198 XVIII Under Machine-Gun Fire 208 XIX Johnny Goes Into Action 219 XX Some Mysteries Uncovered 229

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PANTHER EYE

CHAPTER I

A MYSTERIOUS DEATH

"He is dead!"

Johnny Thompson felt the grip of the speaker's hand on his arm and startedinvoluntarily. How could this strange fellow know that Frank Langlois wasdead--if he was dead? And was he? They were surrounded by inky blackness. It was the thick darkness of a subterranean cavern, a mine. This was agold mine. Three minutes ago their electric torch had flickered out andthey had been unable to make it flash again. 

"C'mon, " said the other man, "Pant, " as the laborers called him, "we don'tneed that thing. "

To his utter astonishment, Johnny had felt himself urged forward by thisPant with the easy, steady, forward march of one who is certain of everystep. Twice they had turned to avoid mine-props. They had gone back intothe mine perhaps a hundred feet. Now, with not a spark of light shiningout of the gloom, they had paused and his companion had uttered thosethree words:

"He is dead. "

Was the man they had come to seek really dead? If he was, who had killedhim? How did Pant know he was dead? Surely in that Egyptian midnight noman could see. 

As Johnny threw an involuntary glance to the spot where Pant's face shouldbe, he gasped. Had he caught a yellow glow from one eye of the man? Hecould not be sure about it, for at that instant the electric torch flashedon again as suddenly as it had gone out. 

Johnny's eyes followed the yellow circle of light. Then with a lowexclamation he sprang forward. There, not ten feet before them, lay theform of Frank Langlois. To all appearances he was dead. Again throughJohnny's mind there flashed the telegraphic questions:

"Who killed him? How did Pant know?"

Thrusting the torch into Johnny's hand, his companion leaped forward and, with a cat-like motion, dropped down beside the prostrate form. Tearingaway at jacket and shirt, he bared the breast and placed his ear closedown upon the cold flesh. 

"Dead all right, " he sighed at last. "Wonder what killed him?"

He still crouched there, as a cat crouches beside its kill. As if hesearched for the answer to his last question, his eyes roved about thefloor. 

This moment of silence gave Johnny time to study Pant, to recall what hereally knew about him. 

He was a strange chap, this Pant. He never bunked with the other laborersof the outfit, but had a private little pup-tent affair that he had madeof long-haired deer skin and canvas. In this he slept. He was slight ofbuild but wiry. Possessed of a peculiar supple strength and agility, heeasily surpassed other men of greater weight in everything he undertook, both of labor and sport. One queer thing about him was that he always worea pair of glasses with smoked lenses of such large proportions that theyhid his eyes completely; he was never without them. One more thing, healways wore the Eskimo cut of garments; in cold weather, deer skin; inwarm weather and at work, blue drill; but always that middy-styled cloakwith the hood attached. And the hood was never off his head, at least notin waking hours. He had dressed that way even in Seattle, where Johnny hadsigned him up to join his outfit on this perilously uncertain search forgold in the Seven Mines which were supposed to exist in Arctic Siberia, atthe mouth of the Anadir River across from Alaska. 

And yet, with all this strange dress, the man was not an Eskimo. Johnnyknew that from the looks of him and from his talk. Indeed, in a burst offrankness, the man had once told him that when very young he had beenpicked up in New York by some orphan asylum and sent west to be raised bya rancher; that he had soon run away from his foster home and had, sincethat time, lived by his wits, sometimes in western cities, sometimes inthe wilds of the Rocky Mountains. He had made three trips to foreigncountries and yet, as nearly as he himself could calculate, he was not nowmore than nineteen, a mere boy, but certainly a most mysterious one. 

Johnny's mind took up the problems of the new enterprise upon which he wasentering. How would this tragedy affect his work and, most of all, theminds of his men?

Johnny, as you will remember from reading "Triple Spies, " the first bookof his thrilling adventures, had been in this vast, silent, and mysteriousland of snow before. He had traveled over three thousand miles of it andhad experienced many a strange adventure. Not least of these was therediscovery of the Seven Mines of Siberia. These mines had first beendiscovered by an American prospector who, having crossed Bering Strait onesummer with natives in their skin boats, had explored the Arctic Siberianrivers. He believed that there was an abundance of the precious yellowmetal on the Kamchatkan Peninsula, just as there was in its twinpeninsula, Alaska. In this he had not been disappointed. But when it cameto mining this gold, many problems arose. Chief among these was the factthat the land belonged to the Russian Czar, from whom a concession must besecured. 

He had, at last, sold his secret to the Big Five of Chicago, five of theworld's richest men. These men had secured the needed concession and hadshipped large quantities of mining machinery and coal to the mouth of theriver when the Czar's government suddenly went to smash. Everything wasdropped for the time being and there matters stood when Johnny had comeupon the mines. Some of them were well opened up for operation, but themachinery lay rusting in the sheds. 

When he had made his way back to Chicago, about six months previous to theopening of our story, he had had serious matters to attend to, matterswhich were vital to the very foundations of his Government. After thesehad been settled and the Big Five, having learned that Hanada, Johnny'sJapanese friend and school mate, who had made the entire Siberian journeywith him and had previously worked in the Seven Mines, had been killed bya mysterious shot, fired from the depths of Chicago River, they turned toJohnny, as the one who could best aid them in solving the knotty problemof working the Seven Mines. 

Johnny, with his long experience as a soldier in eastern Russia, was ableto tell them frankly that there would be practically no chance ofobtaining a concession of any value from the uncertain government thatexisted in that region. 

They had called in their lawyers, who advised that they proceed to workthe mines on the old concession, given them by the Czar. "The concession, "they explained, "does not expire until January, 1925. That being the case, it still holds good, even though the government has changed hands, just asa lease to bore for oil on a certain farm would hold good even though thefarm changed hands. "

"Yes, " the rich representatives of the Big Five had smiled, "but there isa royalty of 25 per cent which was to have been paid to the Czar. Now itshould go to the people. But how? To whom should this now be paid?"

At this juncture, Johnny had one of his occasional inspirations. 

"Leave that to me, " he had exclaimed. "Make me foreman of the enterpriseand every ounce and penny's worth of that royalty will go to relieve thesufferings of those freezing, starving, and naked refugees I saw pouringinto Vladivostok from the interior by tens of thousands. You appoint oneperson and send that person over to assist the Red Cross in distributingthe benefits and I will get the gold down to them, never fear. "

"Good!" one of the rich men had exclaimed. 

"And, just to show you we're with you, we'll make it 35 per cent. "

Now, Johnny remembered all of that. He remembered too how he had pickedhis miners, and his crew for the big gasoline schooner which was to bringthem to the scene of their labors, and his two air men who were to mantheir emergency transportation--an airplane. He remembered with what highhopes he had landed on those bleak shores and had taken up the task ofmaking his men comfortable for the long winter. Only yesterday the housingwork had been completed, and to-day, while the other laborers were goingover the rusted machinery, he had sent his best man, Langlois, into themost promising looking mine to discover the conditions there. The man hadnot returned. After four hours of waiting, he had called to Pant, andtogether they had entered the mine. They had found that death had alreadybroken through their guard. 

"Let him lie as he is, " Johnny said to his companion. "We will bring inthe doctor and two other men. This is a land without law. There will be nocoroner's inquest. That is all the more reason why we must be careful toavoid all appearance of foul play. When men are 'on their own' everythingmust be done in the open. "

Before turning toward the mouth of the mine, he cast one sweeping glanceabout the place. Beyond the body there was a pool of water. It was evidentthat a warm spring must enter the place near this shallow pool, for thewalls on all sides were white with frost. In the middle of this pool, driven into the earth was a pick. It was rusty and its handle was slimywith dampness. Close to the end of the handle were the marks of a man'sfingers where his firm grip had ground off particles of the black rot. Itseemed evident that the pick had lain on the floor of the mine, thatLanglois had taken it up and driven it into the earth which had beensoftened by the water. Then death must have come, for he lay not threefeet from the handle of the pick. 

"Dead, " Johnny whispered to himself as he turned away, "but how?"

Half way to the entrance, Johnny paused, put his hand on his companion'sarm, then stood in the attitude of listening. He seemed to feel ratherthan hear an almost undetectable shudder that set the air about them andthe rock beneath their feet to vibrating. 

"What is it?" whispered Johnny. 

"I don't know, " said his companion, and there was a noticeable tremor inhis voice. 

They were destined to feel that earth-tremble many times before theysolved the mystery of the mine. 

CHAPTER II

"FIFTEEN MEN ON THE DEAD MAN'S CHEST"

The two men who, with the young doctor, accompanied Johnny and Pant backto the mine were old friends of other days, David Tower and Jarvis, one-time skipper and engineer of the submarine in that remarkable racebeneath the ice and through the air told about in our second book, "Lostin the Air. " Like all worthy seamen, they had found that money "burnedholes in their pockets, " and before six months had passed their share ofthe prize money had dwindled to such a meager sum that the fitting out ofa private expedition to go north in search of the fabled City of Gold, thegleam of whose domes they had glimpsed, was not to be thought of. When, therefore, they had discovered that men were being signed for a trip toArctic Russia with the well-known feather-weight champion boxer, JohnnyThompson, at its head, they hastened to put their names on the "dottedline. " And here they were, two of Johnny's most valued men. 

Both worked hard at the labor entrusted to them. But ever and again, as hestraightened up to ease his cramped back, Jarvis would whisper to Dave:

"It's all right this 'ere Seven Mines, but, man, think how rich we'll bewhen we git to that City of Gold. I 'ates to think how rich we'll be. We'll buy reindeer or dogs from the bloody, bloomin' 'eathen and we'lltrim our sails for the nor'west when this hexpedition's blowed up andgone. "

Dave had always smiled and hoped. 

But now, there lay before them a sad task. One of their comrades, a fineyoung college fellow with all of life before him, had been "bumped off. "It was their duty to determine, if possible, who was responsible for thistragedy, and, if occasion seemed to warrant, to avenge it. 

With bowed heads, they stood beside the quiet form while the young doctorwent about his examination. 

For fully ten minutes the mine was silent as a grave. Only the faint drip, drip, drip of water from the warm spring and the almost inaudibletremble-mumble of the throbbing earth disturbed the deathlike stillness. 

At last the doctor straightened up with a sigh. 

"Not a scratch on his body, " he announced, "not a sign of anything. "

"Heart disease?" suggested Johnny. 

"Impossible. I was particularly careful to see that every man of theexpedition had a good strong heart. Low temperatures are hard on badhearts. Langlois was exceptionally well equipped in this matter. Indeed, he told me that he had climbed Mount Evans in Colorado last summer, fourteen thousand and two hundred feet, without a murmur from his heart. Couldn't be that. "

"Poison?" suggested Johnny. 

"Not a sign of that either. Of course, to be sure of that, one must make apost-mortem examination. Let's get him out of this damp, black hole. "

They were soon moving out of the dark and forbidding interior of the minetoward the welcome sunlight that flooded the entrance. 

As they approached this entrance, the unreliable flashlight flickered outfor a second, and, in that second, Johnny experienced a distinct shock. Again, it seemed to him that he caught the gleam of a round, yellow ballof light, such as one sees when looking toward a cat in the dark. When thelight flashed on, Pant had moved, but Johnny concluded that he mighteasily have been standing where the ball of light had shown. 

As he prepared to leave the mine, Johnny paused for a moment, trying tosense once more that strange earth shudder. It seemed to him that it wasless distinct here than it had been further back in the mine. But of thishe could not be sure. It might easily be that the slight sounds and thesensations of light and air here dulled his sensibilities, making itharder for him to catch the shudder. 

The post-mortem revealed no signs of poison. They buried Langlois the nextday in the grave that had been picked and blasted out of the solidlyfrozen earth of the hillside looking over the ice-blocked sea. 

It was a solemn but picturesque scene that struck Johnny's eye as heneared the grave. Before him stood his comrades with bowed and uncoveredheads. In the distance stretched the unmeasured expanse of theice-whitened sea. Beyond, on the other side, lay the equally unmeasuredexpanse of snow-whitened land. Far in the distance stretched the endlesschain of mountains, which to-day seemed to smoke with the snow blown aquarter mile above their summits. In the foreground, not a hundred yardsaway, was a group of perhaps fifty people. These were Chukches, natives, very like the Eskimos of Alaska. They had come to witness from afar thestrange scene of the "alongmeet's" (white man's) burial. 

The scene filled Johnny with a strange sense of awe. Yet, as he camenearer to the grave, he frowned. He had thought that all his men stoodwith uncovered heads. One did not. The man who had been the first todiscover the dead man, Pant, stood with his fur hood tied tightly over hisears. 

Johnny was about to rebuke him, but the word died on his lips. "Pshaw!" hewhispered to himself, "there's trouble enough without starting a quarrelbeside an open grave. "

Jarvis, who was the oldest man of the group and had been brought up in theChurch of England, read a Psalm and a prayer, then with husky voicerepeated:

"Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. "

The hollow thump of frozen earth on the rude box coffin told that theceremony was over. 

One by one the men moved away, leaving only two behind to fill the grave. 

Johnny strode off up the hill alone. He felt a great need to think. Therewas to be no more work that day. He would not be missed. 

As he made his way slowly up the hill, his dark form stood out against thewhite background. Short, but square-shouldered and muscular, he fairlyradiated his years of clean, vigorous living. 

And Johnny Thompson was all that one might imagine him to be. A quiet, unobtrusive fellow, he seldom spoke except when he had something worthsaying. Since childhood he had always been a leader among his fellows. Johnny was a good example to others, but no prude. He had played a fastquarter on the football team, and had won for himself early renown andmany medals as a light weight, champion boxer. He never sought a quarrel, but, if occasion demanded it, Johnny went into action with a vim and rushthat few men of twice his weight could withstand. 

Now, however, his thoughts were far from pugilistic. He was thinking ofthe immediate past and the future. Every man in his crew was aware of thefact that 35 per cent of the output of these mines went to the homelessstarving ones of the most hopelessly wrecked nation on the face of theearth. And though for the most part they were rough men, they had allworked with the cheerful persistence which only an unselfish motive caninspire. Langlois had not been the least among these. Now he was gone. Whowould be next?

Every man in the crew knew the dangers they were facing. To the south werethe anti-Bolshevik Russians, who, not understanding Johnny's claims andhis motives, might, at any time, launch an expedition against them. To thesouthwest were the radical Bolsheviki, who, obtaining knowledge of theserich deposits of gold, might start a land force across country to securethis much needed medium of exchange. Then there were the Chukches. Wild, superstitious tribes of spirit-worshipping people, they might come downfrom the north in thousands to wipe out this first white settlementestablished on their shores. 

Johnny's men had known of all these perils and yet they had freely andgladly joined the expedition. His heart swelled with joy and pride atthought of the trust they had put in him. 

Yet here was a new and unknown peril. The death of Langlois could not befairly laid at the door of either Chukches or Russians. Could it becharged to some treacherous member of their own group? Johnny hated tothink so, yet, how had it happened? Then, too, there was that strangeearth-tremble; what caused that?

Already his men were growing superstitious in this silent, frozen land. Hehad heard them saying openly that they would not work in the mine whereLanglois died. Ah, well, there were six other mines, some of them probablyas rich. They could be worked. But was this peril to follow them intothese? Was his whole expedition to be thwarted in the carrying out of itshigh purposes? Were the needy in great barren Russia to continue to freezeand starve? He hoped not. 

As he rose to go, he saw a small dark object scurry over the snow. Atfirst he thought it a raven. But at last, with a little circle, itappeared to flop over and to lie still, a dark spot on the snow. 

Johnny approached it cautiously. As he came close, his lips parted in anexclamation:

"A phonographic record!"

He looked quickly up the hill, then to the right and left. Not a personwas in sight. 

"Apparently from the sky, " he murmured. 

But at that instant he caught himself. They had a phonograph in theiroutfit. This was doubtless one of their records. But how did it come outhere?

As he picked it up and examined it closely, he knew at once that it wasnot one of their own, for it was a different size and had neither numbernor label on it. 

"Ho, well, " he sighed, "probably thrown away by some native. Take it downand try it out anyway. Might be a good one. "

At that, he began making his way down the hill. 

He was nearly late to mess. Already the men were assembled around the longtable and were helping themselves to "goldfish" and hot biscuits. 

"Boys, " Johnny smiled, "I've been downtown and brought home a new recordfor the phonograph. We'll hear it in the clubroom after mess. "

"What's the name of it?" inquired Dave Tower, all interest at once, as, indeed, they all were. 

"Don't know, " said Johnny, "but I bet it's a good one. "

Mess over, they adjourned to the "clubroom, " a large room, roughly butcomfortably furnished with homemade easy chairs, benches and tables, andsupplied with all the reading matter in camp. 

Many pairs of curious eyes turned to the phonograph in the corner asJohnny, after winding the machine, carefully placed the disk in position, adjusted the needle, and with a loud "A-hem!" started the machine inmotion. 

There followed the usual rattle and thump as the needle cleared its way tothe record. 

Every man sat bolt upright, ears and eyes strained, when from the woodythroat came the notes of a clear voice:

 "Fifteen men on the dead man's chest, Yo--ho--ho, and a bottle of rum. Fifteen men and the dark and damp, My men 'tis better to shun. "

Again the machine appeared to clear its throat. 

A smile played over the faces of the men. But again the voice sang:

 "Fifteen men on the dead man's chest, Yo--ho--ho, and a bottle of rum. Fifteen men and the dark and damp, My men 'tis better to shun. "

Again came a rattle. A puzzled expression passed over Johnny's face. Thesame song was repeated over and over till the record was finished. 

A hoarse laugh came from one corner. It died half finished. No one joinedin the laugh. There was something uncanny about this record which haddrifted in from nowhere with its song of pirate days and of death. Especially did it appear so, coming at such a time as this. 

"Well, what do you make of it?" Johnny smiled queerly. 

"It's a spirit message!" exclaimed Jarvis, "I read as 'ow Sir Oliver Lodge'as got messages from 'is departed ones through the medium of a slate. 'Oo's to say spirits can't talk on them wax records as well. It's amessage, a warnin' to us in this 'ere day of death. "

Smiles followed but no laughing. In a land such as this, every man'sopinion is respected. 

"More likely some whaler made a few private records of his own singing andgave this one to the natives, " suggested Dave Tower. "They'd take it forsomething to eat, but, when they tried boiling it and had no success, they'd throw it away. That's probably what's happened and here we have therecord. "

"Anyway, " said the doctor, "if he's a sailor, you'll have to admit he hada very fine voice. "

There the matter was dropped. But Johnny took it up again before he slept. He could not help feeling that this was sent as a warning not from thespirit world, but from some living person. Who that person might be, hehad no sort of notion. And the message gave no clue. He repeated it slowlyto himself. 

"What could you make out of that?" he mumbled. 

Then he turned over in his deer-skin bag and went to sleep. 

CHAPTER III

A FIGHT IN THE NIGHT

 "Fifteen men on the dead man's chest, Yo--ho--ho, and a bottle of rum. Fifteen men and the dark and damp, My men 'tis better to shun. "

For the fiftieth time Johnny heard those words ground out by the recordthat had rolled down the hill to meet him. Fifty times he had searched invain for its meaning. For that it was not chance that had sent it rollingto his feet, but purpose, the mysterious purpose of an unknown some one, he was certain. 

If the man had something to say to him, why did he not say it? Why veilhis meaning in an apparently senseless song? It was getting on hisnerves. 

He sprang to his feet and began pacing the floor. For the first time sincethe record came into his hands, he had an idea. Somewhere, he had readpart of that song, perhaps all. But where? He could not think. 

He came to a stand beside Dave Tower, who was reading. 

"Dave, " he exclaimed, "part of that song, or all of it, is printed in abook. What book is it?"

"Your memory's poor, " grinned Dave, "'Treasure Island, ' of course--onlythe first two lines, though. It's the song the old one-legged pirate usedto sing. "

"Sure, " smiled Johnny. 

Turning, he left the room. 

In a moment he had his parka down over his head and was out in the openair. He wanted to think. 

The yellow light of the moon was cut here and there by dark purple shadowsof the night. Not a breath stirred. He walked slowly up the hill, watchingthe golden streamers of the northern lights streaking across the sky. Itwas a perfect night. And yet, it was to be marred all too soon. 

 "Fifteen men and the dark and damp, My men 'tis better to shun. "

Johnny repeated the last two lines of the song. So these were the wordsthe mysterious singer had improvised to sing with those which were wellknown by every live American boy. What could he mean? Why had he sungthem?

Suddenly it all seemed clear to him; the man was being watched and darednot do a thing openly. He wished to send them a warning. This was his onlyway. And the warning was doubtless to tell them to stay away from thedeath trap where Frank Langlois had perished. 

"Well, " Johnny exclaimed, as if addressing the person who had sent themessage, "if that's all there is to it, we've already complied with yourwish. "

He turned and looked back down the hill. A few hundred yards away a holeyawned in the hard crusted snow. Twenty yards from this was a cone ofblack earth twice the height of a man. This was their pile of pay dirt. For five days now, they had been working on the second mine of the seven. The pay dirt they had struck was not as rich as they hoped to find, but itwould repay the labor of sluicing. It was growing richer each hour. Theyhoped in time to uncover the mother-lode. This would pay for panning andyield a rich reward. 

It was placer mining. Beside the mine entrance stood a steam thawer, acoal-heated boiler such as is used for driving a sawmill or grist-millengine. From this a wire-wound hose extended into the interior of themine. The mine was fifteen feet underground, but even here the earth wasfrozen solid. Attached to the hose was a sharp pointed iron pipe. Thispipe was perforated in hundreds of places. When it was driven into theearth and the steam turned on, it thawed the flinty soil and rendered itpliable to the pick and shovel. 

"Yes, " Johnny heaved a sigh of satisfaction, "yes, sometime, perhaps intwo or three months, we will send by reliable reindeer carriers our firstgift of gold to the orphans of Russia. "

He made his way up the hill to the point where he had found thephonographic record, for he was curious to know the lay of the land abovethat point. He wanted to know where this strange person had been hidingwhen he set the disk rolling. 

"It's strange, mighty strange, " he whispered, as he looked up at thecliffs which towered skyward some three hundred yards above the spot wherehe stood. 

Then suddenly he stopped short. Had he seen a dark shadow flit from onelittle ridge to another? The surface of the hill was very uneven. He couldnot tell. 

At first he was inclined to turn back. But he had started for the rockycliff and he was not given to turning back. He went on. 

As he moved forward, his thoughts were again of that strange fellow whohad made the record on the disk. 

"Couldn't be a native" he murmured. "No native has a voice like that. Ifit's a strange white man, why doesn't he join us? Perhaps--" He stoppedshort in his tracks. "Perhaps it's one of our own number. Perhaps it'sPant. He's queer enough to do or be anything. "

His mind hung on that last word--anything. Yes, he might not be a man atall. Might be a girl. Why always that hood drawn tight? Why the goggles?And, being a girl, she might be more than an adventuress. Possibly she wasa radical, a Russian spy, who had joined his crew to thwart his purposes. Who could tell?

"Humph!" he shook himself free from these reflections. "Lot of chance ofall that being true. There's witchery in this moonlight. And yet, strangerthings have happened. Whatever you say, Pant's a devil. Who else could seein the dark?"

He was standing almost directly beneath the rocky cliff. Suddenly with thequickness of thought, a small brown figure sprang at him. Then another andanother. 

Right at his face sprang the first one. Not one nor two of these could betoo quick for Johnny. Like a shot his right arm curved out. With ascreaming shudder the man leaped in air and went crashing down the hill. The second, seized by his fragile squirrel-skin parka, tore himself away. The third landed upon Johnny's back. Like an infuriated bucking bronco, Johnny went over on his back, crushing the wind out of the fellow on thehard packed snow. But the second man, dressed now in a garment of crimsonhue, which he had worn under his parka, was upon Johnny's chest. His armwas entwined in Johnny's left in a jujutsu hold. His hand flashed to thewhite boy's chin. With such a hold even a small man could do much. The manpinioned beneath, having regained his breath, added his strength to theother in holding his adversary flat to the snow. Johnny dug his left elbowinto this one's face, while his right arm turned beneath the arm of theman on his chest and reached a position of half-nelson behind the man'shead. He was now in a position to break this assailant's neck. Bonessnapped as he applied the terrific muscles of his right arm and the brownman's muscles relaxed. Johnny's head and arms were free. With the speed ofa wild-cat, he sprang to his feet, faced about, then, with a boundingleap, cleared the remaining assailant and went tobogganing down the hill. He had seen five others of the brown villains approaching. He had hadenough for this night--more than enough. 

The snow was hard packed; the descent for many yards was steep, and Johnnygained a momentum in his downward plunge that threatened disaster. Now hecareened over a low ridge to shoot downward over a succession of rollingterraces. Now he slid along the trough of a bank of snow. One thought wascomforting; he was escaping from those strange brown men. Shots had rungout. Bullets whizzed past him, one fairly burning his cheek. It was with adistinct sense of relief that he at last bumped over a sheer drop of sixfeet to a gentler incline where he was quite out of their sight. 

By digging in his heels, he brought himself to a stop. Hardly had he donethis than he sprang up and raced back up the hill to the last rocky ridgeover which he had glided. From the top of this he might be able to see themen without himself being seen. 

As he thrust his toe into a crack and braced his elbows, he peered up thesnowy slope to the cliffs above. All was bathed in a glorious moonlight, but not a creature stirred. He watched for fully five minutes with noresult. When about to drop to the snow again, he thought he detected amovement to the left of where he had been looking. Fixing his eyes on thatpoint, he watched. Yes, there it was; something was passing out frombehind a rock. A gasp escaped his lips. 

What appeared to be a gigantic golden coated cat had moved stealthily outupon the snow, and was gliding toward the upper cliffs. 

"Whew!" Johnny wiped the cold perspiration from his brow. Still hestared. 

The creature moved in a leisurely manner up the hill until it disappearedaround the cliffs. 

Johnny looked to the right and down the hill. The light of the clubroomwas still burning. He beat a hasty retreat. 

It was a surprised and startled group that looked him over as he appearedat the door, ragged, bruised and bloody. Eagerly they crowded about tohear his story. 

When he had washed the blood from his face and drawn on clean shirt andtrousers, he took a place by the open fire and told them--told them asonly Johnny could. 

"Well, what do you make of it?" He threw back his head and laughed afrank, boyish laugh, as he finished. "Some wild and woolly adventure, eh?Who were those little men? And what does it all mean?"

"Means the natives are getting superstitious about our effect on thespirits of their dead whales and are planning to treat us rough, "suggested Dave. 

"Natives!" exploded Jarvis, "Them ain't any natural 'eathen. Them's'eathen frum further down the sea. I 'ates to think what a 'ard lot theyis. Dave and me's seen a 'eap further north than this. 'E's got spieseverywhere, this 'eathen 'as. "

"Struck me a little that way too, " smiled Johnny. "That fellow I tore theclothes off was wearing silk undergarments. Show me the Chukche who wearsany at all, let alone silk. "

"Sure!" exclaimed Jarvis. 

"But if they're around here, why don't we see them?" objected one of theminers. 

"The big cat's 'ere. Johnny saw 'im, " scoffed Jarvis. "You 'aven't seen'im, 'ave you? All that's about ain't seen. Not by a 'ouse full. "

"What about the big cat?" exclaimed Johnny. "I thought I was seeingthings. "

"E's a Roosian tiger, " stated Jarvis. "I've seen the likes of 'im furnorth of here. "

"To-morrow, " said Johnny, "we'll take a day off for hunting. Big, yellowcats and little yellow men are not good neighbors unless they've agreed inadvance to behave. Move we turn in. All in favor, go to bed. "

A moment later the clubroom was deserted. 

CHAPTER IV

CHUKCHE TREACHERY

The proposed hunt for "big yellow cats and little yellow men" did not comeoff, at least not at the time appointed. Morning found the tundra, thehills, everything, blotted out by a blinding, whirling blizzard. It wassuch a storm as one experiences only in the Arctic. The snow, fine andhard as granulated sugar, was piled high against the cabin. The door wasblocked. Exit could be had only through a window. 

Dave Tower, in attempting to make his way to the storeroom to secure afresh supply of canned milk and evaporated eggs, found himself hopelesslylost in the blinding snow clouds. Possessed of singular presence of mind, he settled himself in the lee of a snow bank and waited. In time, a pencilof yellow light came jabbing its way through the leaden darkness. Hiscompanions had formed themselves in a circle and, with flash lightsblinking here and there, sought and found him. After that, they remainedwithin doors until the storm had spent its fury. 

It was a strange world they looked upon when, after three days, theyventured out once more. The snow was piled in ridges. Ten, fifteen, twentyfeet high, these ridges extended down the hillsides and along the tundra. Through one of these, they tunneled to Mine No. 2, making an enclosed pathto the mine from the cabin. 

"From now on, let her blow, " laughed Johnny when the tunnel was finished;"our work will go on just the same. "

When the men were all back at work, Johnny thought once more of the bigyellow cat and the little yellow men. The storm had wiped out every traceof his struggle with the men and every track of the cat. But the nativevillage? Might he not discover some trace of his assailants there? Heresolved to visit the village. Since his men were all employed, he wouldgo alone. 

An exclamation of surprise escaped his lips as he rounded the point fromwhich the rows of dome-like igloos could be seen. Where there had beennineteen or twenty homes, there were now sixty or seventy. What could thismean? Could it be that the men who had attacked him but a few days beforewere among these new arrivals? At first, he was tempted to turn back. Butthen there came the reflection that Nepossok, the old chief who made thishis permanent home, was friendly to him. There would be little chance oftreachery in the broad light of day. 

He hurried on and walked down the snow-packed streets of a northern nomadvillage. 

Reaching the old chief's tent, he threw back the flaps and entered. He wassoon seated on the sleeping platform of the large igloo, with the chiefsitting solemnly before him and his half naked children romping in onecorner. 

"Many Chukche, " said Johnny. 

"Il-a-hoite-Chukche. Too many! Too many, " grumbled the old man. 

Johnny waited for him to go on. 

Twisting the string of his muckluck (skin boot), the old man continued:"What you think? Want'a dance and sing all a times these Chukche. Nowant'a hunt. No want'a fish. Quick come no cow-cow (no food). Quickstarve. What you think?"

"Perhaps they think they can live off the white man, " suggested Johnny. 

The old man shot him a sharp glance. 

"Eh--eh, " he grunted. 

"But they can't, " said Johnny firmly. "You tell 'em no can do. White man, plenty grub now. Many white men. Many months all a time work, no come openwater. No come grub. Long time, no grub. See! You speak Chukche, this. "

"Eh--eh, " the old man grunted again. Then as a worried expression cameover his face, "What you think? Twenty igloo mine. That one chief mine. Many igloos not mine. No can say mine. T'other chief say do. Then do. Notdo, say mine. See? What you think?"

From the old chief's rather long speech, Johnny gathered that Nepossok waschief over only twenty of the families of the village; that the otherswere under another chief; that he could tell them to hunt and fish, to beprepared for a food scarcity later, but that they would do as they pleasedabout it. 

Johnny left the igloo with a worried expression on his face. If thesenatives had moved to this village close beside them with the notion thatthey would be able to trade for or beg the food which he had stored in hiswarehouse, they were doomed to disappointment. And having beendisappointed, doubtless they would become dangerous. 

This last conclusion was verified as he went the rounds of the villagepeering into every igloo. There were rifles in each one of them, good onestoo--high power hunting rifles for big game--lever action, automatic. Inevery igloo he found men stretched out asleep, and this on a splendid dayfor hunting. They were but waiting for the night, which they would spendin wild singing, tom-tom drumming and naked dances. 

Johnny did not find the people he had come to seek. In none of the igloosdid he see a single person resembling, in the least degree, the littleyellow men who had attacked him on the hill. 

All this but confirmed his own opinion and that of Jarvis, that somewherein these hills there was hiding away a company of Orientals, spies oftheir government, perhaps. But where could they be?

Johnny was not surprised, two days later, when, on coming out of hisstoreroom, he found a dark-faced and ugly Chukche looking in. 

"Plenty cow-cow, " the man grimaced. 

"Ti-ma-na" (enough), said Johnny. 

"Wanchee sack flour mine. "

"No, " said Johnny, closing and locking the door. 

The man departed with a sour look on his face. He returned within an hour. With him was a boy. Between them they carried the most perfectly preservedmastodon tusk Johnny had ever seen. 

"Flour?" the man said, pointing to the tusk. 

Johnny could not resist the temptation to barter for the tusk. He yielded. The man carried his flour away in triumph. 

After that, not a day passed but a half score or more of the natives camesneaking about the cabin, the storeroom, and the mine, begging for food. 

As the days wore on, as famine came poking his skeleton form into theigloos of the improvident natives, the condition became truly serious. 

Johnny dispatched a messenger inland to discover if it would be possibleto obtain deer meat from the Reindeer Chukches living there. When he foundthat a few deer might be obtained, he began trading sparingly with thecoast natives. They had little to trade, and the little he could sparewould only postpone the disaster that seemed hanging over the camp like acloud. The natives would not hunt or fish and each day found them growingmore insolent and threatening. 

This to the eager young miner was a great trial. Mining operations weregoing on splendidly. Mine No. 2 yielded a richer pay dirt each day. Indications were that in a very few days they would be mining themother-lode from that digging and would be storing away pure gold in moosehide sacks, some to be sent to the men whose wealth had made theexpedition possible and some to the orphans of Vladivostok. 

It was at this time that the native with the dark and frowning visage camewith the announcement that he had located some immense tusks of extinctmonsters, a short distance inland. He begged Johnny to go with him to lookat them and assured him that if they pleased him, they should be broughtto the coast for barter. 

"All right, come sun to-morrow, I go, " said Johnny. 

"I better go along, " said Pant, when the native had left. 

"Go if you want to, " said Johnny. 

Next morning, just at dawn, the three men started on their quest for theancient ivory. 

The way led first up the frozen river bed, then over low-lying hills to astretch of tundra. At the distant border of the tundra towered highcliffs, flanked by snow-blown mountains. Toward these they journeyed, tramping along in silence. 

As they neared the cliffs, Johnny fancied that he saw some dark creaturesmoving among the rocks. The distance was too great for him to know whetherthey were human beings or animals. 

It was with a creeping sense of danger and a feeling of thankfulness forPant's companionship, that, after arriving at the cliffs, he found himselfbeing led into a dark cave in a hill of limestone rock. 

"U bogak ivory" (look, here is ivory). The native whispered the words asif afraid the extinct monsters would waken from the dead and demand theirtusks. 

He had lighted a single tallow candle which gave forth a sickly, flickering light. 

The place seemed fairly spooky. Only the pit-pats of their footstepswakened dull echoes through the vaulted cavern. Johnny could not helpfeeling that there were more than three men in this cave. In vain hestrained his eyes to catch a glimpse of the walls to right and left ofhim. 

They had gone perhaps seventy-five paces into the darkness when there camea sudden indistinguishable sound. Johnny thought it like the dropping of asmall rock, followed by a half suppressed exclamation. A chill crept uphis spine. 

They moved on a few paces. Again came a sound. This time it was like twosteps taken in the dark. At the same instant, fingers gripped his arm. Hesprang into an attitude of defense. 

"Stop, " came a whisper in his ear. "Place's full of natives. " It was Pant. "When I knock the candle to the floor, you drop flat and crawl for thedoor. "

For a second Johnny stared in the dark at the place where Pant's faceshould be. He caught again the puzzling gleam of yellow light. 

"All right, " he breathed. 

Ten seconds later, as the candle executed a spiral curve toward the floorand flickered out, Johnny dropped flat and began to crawl. 

CHAPTER V

THE BIG CAT

Hardly had Johnny and Pant disappeared over the hill that morning in theirquest for the supposed old ivory of rare value, when things began tohappen in the neighborhood of the camp. Dave Tower and Jarvis had beendetailed to inspect Mine No. 3, with a view to opening it as soon as themother-lode had been reached in No. 2. Armed with pick and shovel, theyhad crossed the first low ridge, which made a short cut across the bend ofthe river, when Jarvis suddenly whispered:

"Hist! Down! The cat!"

Dave dropped to his knees, eyes popping at the sight just before him. Nottwenty yards from them was a huge tiger. With head up, tail lashing, heseemed contemplating a leap which might bring him over a third of thedistance between them. Two more leaps, and then what? Dave's hair prickledat the roots; a chill ran down his spine; cold perspiration stood out onhis forehead. 

"If only we had a gun, " he whispered. 

"Keep yer eye on 'im, " the Englishman whispered. "Don't flinch nor turn a'air. 'E's a bad un. "

For fully three minutes--it seemed hours to Dave--the great cat lay spreadflat to the snow. Then a nervous twitch of his paws told that he wasdisturbed. Dave's hands grasped the pick-handle until it seemed they wouldcrush it to splinters. 

But what was this? The creature turned his head and looked to the right. 

In another second they saw what the tiger saw. A clumsy, ponderous polarbear, making her way inland to some rocky cavern for a sleep, hadblundered upon them. 

"Ship ahoy!" breathed Jarvis. "Twelve feet long, if she's an inch, and abob for a tail at that. "

"Look!" whispered Dave. "She has her cub with her. "

"And the cat sees 'er. 'Oly mackerel, wot a scrap. "

 * * * * *

When Johnny Thompson dropped on hands and knees in the cavern after theEskimo's candle had flickered out, he felt his arm seized by the twitchingfingers of Pant, and, half by his own effort, half by the insistent dragof his companion, who seemed to be quite at home in this dungeon-likedarkness, he made his way rapidly toward the door. 

Complete darkness appeared to have demoralized the forces of evil that hadbeen arrayed against them. Soft-padded footsteps could be heard here andthere, but these persons seemed to be hurrying like frightened bats to aplace of hiding. Twice they were stumbled upon by some one fleeing. 

Johnny's mind worked rapidly. 

"Pant, " he breathed, "if they strike a light and hold it, we're lost!"

"Got your automatic?"

"Sure. "

"Take time to get hold of it. "

"Got it. "

"Shoot at the first flash of light. That'll fix 'em. They're cowards. Allnatives are. " Pant jerked out the sentences as he crawled rapidly. 

They were none too soon. In another moment a match flared. Seemingly inthe same instant, so quick was Johnny's movement, a blinding flash leapedfrom the floor and a deafening roar tore the tomb-like silence. 

Johnny had fired at the ceiling, but this was quite enough. The lightflared out. There was no more lighting of matches. 

Creeping stealthily forward, avoiding the overturning of the smalleststone or bit of shale which might betray their position, they soon nearedthe entrance. 

"Gotta make a run for it, " breathed Pant. "Automatic ready?"

"Ready. "

"Give 'em three rounds, then beat it. Make a dash to the right the instantyou're outside. Ready?"

Johnny felt the hand on his arm tremble for an instant, then grip hard. 

 * * * * *

When the great, white bear and her cub came upon the scene on thatsnow-domed hill where Jarvis and Dave cowered before the tiger, the pointof interest for the tiger was at once shifted to the fat and rollickingcub. Here was a juicy feast. And to the great cat, inexperienced as hemust have been in the ways of the creatures of the very far north intowhich he had wandered, the cumbersome mother seemed a rather insignificantbarrier to keep him from his feast. One spring, a set of those viciousyellow teeth, a dash away, with the ponderous mother following at asnail's pace--that seemed easy. He carefully estimated the short distancebetween them. 

But if these were the sensations that registered themselves on the braincells of this tawny creature, he had reckoned wrong. 

He had made just two springs when the mother bear right about faced and, nosing her cub to a position behind her, stood at bay. 

Seeing this, the tiger paused. Lashing his tail and crouching for aspring, he uttered a low growl of defiance. 

The bear's answer to this was a strange sound like the hissing of a goose. She held her ground. 

Then, seeing that the cat did not spring again, she wheeled about andbegan pushing the cub slowly before her. 

"Will 'e get 'im?" whispered Jarvis. 

"Don't know, " answered Dave. "If I had a rifle, he wouldn't. Whew! What arobe that yellow pelt would make! Just prime, too!"

Lashing his tail more furiously than before, the tiger sprang. Now he waswithin thirty feet of the bear, now twenty, now ten. It seemed that thenext spring would bring him to his goal. 

But here he paused. The mother was between him and his dinner. He circled. The bear circled clumsily. The cub was always behind her. The tiger stoodstill. The bear moved slowly backward, still pushing her cub. Again thetiger sprang. This time he was but eight feet distant. He growled. Thebear hissed. The crisis had come. 

With a sudden whirl to one side, the cat sprang with claws drawn and pawsextended. It was clear that he had hoped to outflank the bear. In this hefailed. A great forepaw of the bear swung over the tiger's head, makingthe air sing. 

She nipped at the yellow fur with her ivory teeth. Here, too, she was toolate; the tiger had leaped away. 

The tiger turned. There were flecks of white at the corners of his mouth. His tail whipped furiously. With a wild snarl, he threw himself at themother bear's throat. It was a desperate chance, but for a second itseemed that those terrible fangs would find their place; and, once theywere set there, once the knife-like claws tore at the vitals of the bear, all would be over. Then he would have a feast of good young bear. 

At the very instant when all this seemed accomplished, when Jarvisbreathed hoarsely, "Ah!" and Dave panted, "Oh!", there came a sound as ofa five-hundred-pound pile-driver descending upon a bale of hay. 

Like a giant plaything seized by a cyclone, the tiger whirled to the righttwelve feet away, then rolled limply over and over. 

"Ee! She packs a wallop!" breathed Jarvis. 

"Is he dead?" said Dave. 

The bear moved close to the limp form of her enemy and sniffed the air. 

"Looks like she got 'im, " grinned Jarvis, straightening his crampedlimbs. 

For the first time the mother bear seemed to realize their presence, and, apparently scenting more danger, she began again pushing her cub beforeher, disappearing at last over the next low hill. 

"Bully for 'er!" exclaimed Jarvis. 

For some time they sat there on the crusted snow unable to believe thatthe tiger was dead, and unwilling to trust themselves too close to hiskeen claws and murderous fangs. Finally, Dave rose stiffly. 

"Let's have a look, " he muttered. 

"Sure 'e's done for?"

As they bent over the stiffening form of the great yellow cat, Jarvis gavethe head a turn. 

"Broke!" he muttered; "'is neck is broke short off! I say she packed awallop!"

"And the skin's ours!" exclaimed Dave joyously. "What a beauty! We'll skinhim before he freezes. "

Suiting his action to his words, he began the task. He had worked insilence for some time when he suddenly stood up with a start. 

"What's that?" he exclaimed. 

"What's what?"

"My knife struck metal--a chain about his neck!"

"Somebody's pet!" exclaimed Jarvis, "and a bloomin' fine one!" He bentover to examine the chain. 

"But whose?" asked Dave. 

"'Ere's the tag. Take a look. "

"Looks oriental. Some numbers and letters. I can't read them. "

"Sure, " grinned Jarvis. "Ain't I been tellin' y'? It's the bloody bloomin''eathen from the islands down the sea-coast. They're 'angin' about 'ere. They'll be lettin' out a 'ole menagerie against us some fineday--elephants, lions, mebby a hyena or two, and who knows what?"

He stood and stared at Dave; Dave stared back at him. 

 * * * * *

As Johnny Thompson prepared for the dash out of the cave, where he andPant were to have been trapped, he realized that it was a desperate move. Pant had seen only lances and harpoons. There were doubtless rifles in thenatives' hands as well. He knew very well their intentions: they fearedhim as a leader and, hoping to trap him here, had planned to end his life. One by one, they would pick off his men. At last there would be a rush andthe remaining few would be killed. Then the supplies would be theirs. Inthis land without law, they had nothing to fear but the failure of theirplans. If he could escape this one time, he would be on his guard; hewould protect himself and his men. 

"C'mon, " Pant cried. "Three shots; then for it. "

Three times the automatic shook the walls of the cavern. Then they wereaway, out in the open breaking for cover among the boulders that lined thecliff. 

Now they were dodging from rock to rock; now, for a second, Johnny saw thenatives swarming from the cave like bees; now, they were hidden fromsight; and now, he paused for an instant to send a bullet over the head ofa runner who ran too well. 

Soon they had lost themselves among the hills. Only once, in the five-milerun home, did a native appear on a hilltop. He beckoned, thendisappeared. 

After a time, when near camp, they slowed down to a walk. 

"Pretty close, " smiled Johnny, slipping his gun into his pocket. 

"I say, " murmured Pant, "do you think they were the same ones thatattacked you back here on the hill a few nights ago?"

"No. Their work's too crude. These others were real chaps. "

That night, after darkness had fallen over the hills, Johnny went intoMine No. 1 with a flashlight alone. Having reached a point where Langloishad been found dead, he sat down on a frozen ledge and stared at therust-reddened pick-handle, which seemed to point an accusing finger at himfor bringing that fine fellow here to meet his death. What had killed him?This was as much a mystery as ever. 

There were many mysteries about this place; there was that earth-tremblethat, to-night, was more noticeable than ever; there were those strangebrown people who had attacked him on this very hill; there was the tigerslain that very day and skinned by Dave and Jarvis; there was the orientalchain and tag about the beast's neck. Johnny seemed surrounded by manymysteries and great dangers. Was it his duty to call the deal off anddesert the mines? Sometimes he thought it was. Ice conditions were suchthat it might yet be possible to get their gasoline schooner into openwater and go pop-popping south to Vladivostok. But there would be thosethere who waited and hoped for gold to aid them in the battle againsthunger, disease and death. Could they go empty-handed?

Rumors of a new peril had drifted in that day. A Reindeer Chukche, comingfrom a five days' journey into the interior, had told of great numbers ofRussians pushing toward the coast. These could be none other thanBolsheviki who hoped to gather wealth of one kind or another by a raid onthe coast. If the Chukche was telling the truth, the stay of the white mencould be prolonged by only a few days at the most. 

At the same time, the mining crew had reported indications that they wouldreach the mother-lode in No. 2 within three days. 

"We'll chance it that long, " Johnny said, with an air of determination, ashe rose and left the mine. 

He was crossing a ridge of snow, when, as once before, his eye was caughtby a spinning black object. 

"Another phonograph record! Another warning!" he exclaimed. "Wonder whatit will be this time?"

Johnny whistled thoughtfully to himself, as he strode forward to pick upthe little black messenger. 

CHAPTER VI

IN THE GRIP OF TERROR

 "Oh, there's honey in the rock, my brother, There's honey in the rock for you. "

Johnny was listening to the second phonographic record. In high-pitchedfalsetto note the singer had repeated these words over and over. That wasall. If the other message had seemed void of meaning, this one appeareddoubly so, for here there were no improvised lines, only these two takenfrom a threadbare religious song. What could it mean?

Johnny did not puzzle over this long. There were too many other importantmatters to attend to. Dangers confronted them. He did not fear the nativesfor the present. But the Bolsheviki? If they were coming this way, thenhere indeed was peril enough. 

"Dave, " he said, after a long period of musing by the fire, "I'm going totake the team of gray wolf-hounds with a two-day supply of food and go seewhat all this talk about Russians means. I won't be in danger of beingfollowed by natives, for I shall start long before sunrise. I'd send theboys with the airplane, but the sight of the machine would give us deadaway. I can probably obtain the information we need concerning theirnumbers, rate of travel and so on, and not be seen at all. 

"I shall leave matters in your hands. Push the mining in No. 2 to theutmost and get the richest of the mother-lode panned as speedily aspossible. A hundredweight of gold would mean much. Should I fail toreturn, and should conditions seem to warrant the abandoning of camp, sendthe plane out to look for me. If they fail to locate me, take no chances. Clear the ice with the schooner as quickly as you can. I shall be allright. I came to this place from Vladivostok once by reindeer, and wentnorth to Bering Strait the same way. I can take care of myself. "

"All right, " said Dave, a trifle anxiously. "I'll do just as you say. Goodluck, and may you come back. "

They gripped hands for a second, then parted. 

In the meantime, over in the corner, with a discarded shirt thrust intothe horn of the phonograph as a muffler, Pant was playing that newly-foundrecord over and over. A puzzled frown wrinkled his forehead above thegoggles. 

Presently he sat up straight, and, tearing the muffler away, started themachine. His hands trembled as he sank back in his chair, limp withexcitement. He allowed the record to grind its way out to the very end, then he nodded his head and murmured:

"Yes, that's it, 'money in the rock. ' _Money_, plenty of it. "

When Johnny started out at four o'clock the next morning, he set his dogszig-zagging back and forth to the land side of their cabin. He was huntingthe invisible trail of the Reindeer Chukche who had come from the interiorthe day before. When once the dog-leader had come upon the scent of it, the team bounded straight away over the tundra. 

The cabin soon faded from view. First came the frozen bed of the river, then a chain of low-lying hills, then broad stretches of tundra again, with, here and there, a narrow willow-lined stream twisting in and outbetween snow-banks. The steady pat-pat of his "mucklucks" (skin boots)carried him far that day, but brought him no sight of the reportedRussians. 

After a brief sleep, he was away again. He had traveled for eight hoursmore, when, upon skirting the edge of a long line of willows by a river'sbrink, he imagined he caught sight of a skulking figure on the furtherbank. He could not be sure of it. He pressed on, his dogs still trailingthe reindeer sled. If they had come near the Russian camp, the trail woulddoubtless have made a direct turn to right or left of it to escape passingtoo closely. The Chukches avoided these Russians as merchant ships of oldavoided a pirate bark. Contact with them meant loss of their reindeer, perhaps death as well. 

So, confident in his false security, Johnny pushed on. But just as he wasabout to emerge from the river-bed, a dozen armed ruffians of the mostvicious-looking type sprang from the willows. 

"Whoa!"

Resistance was useless; Johnny stopped his team. He looked back and, tohis disgust, he saw that their camp was pitched on the other side of thatlong row of willows. These shrubs had been caught by the frost when theirleaves were yet green. The leaves had not fallen off, and, even at thistime of year, formed a perfect screen, a fact for which Johnny was laterto be profoundly grateful. 

In vain he attempted to play up in a friendly fashion to the Bolsheviki. They looked upon him as an enemy and a hostage, for, in the first place, did they not know that American soldiers had, for many months, guarded asection of the Trans-Siberian Railroad against their armies? And, in thesecond place, did not Johnny drive a splendid team of gray wolf-hounds, which would be of great service to them in their march to the coast? Theydid not understand how he came there. They asked him all manner of foolishquestions, to which he gave quite as foolish answers, and, when this wasat an end, they fitted a rusty pair of "bracelets" to his feet, and, thrusting him inside a vile-smelling tent, gave him vermin-infestedblankets to sleep in and sour brown bread to eat. 

"Here's a pretty mess!" he stormed silently to himself. "There's at leasta hundred of them. They must travel slowly, but even so, four days willbring them to the coast; then, unless the unforeseen happens, it's theocean for our outfit, or perhaps worse than death. And if anything goeswrong, it's all my fault because I failed to consider that this bunchwould have moved forward from where the Chukche saw them. I only hope theboys find out in time. "

He listened for a while with aching heart to the wail of his dogs, who hadbeen turned into their snowy beds without their supper, and, at last, fromsheer exhaustion, he fell asleep. 

Two days later he was led toward a peculiar square cabinet that had beenset up in the snow. Beside it was a pile of glowing embers left from afire of willows. The ten men who marched beside him were not armed. Sincethey pressed about him on all sides, cutting off all chance of his escape, no weapons were needed. 

They had not told him what they meant to do. What the cabinet was, whatthe bed of coals meant, he could not even guess. Malignant grins gave thefaces of the men a look that made his blood run cold. He had seen such anexpression only once before, and that in the movies when Indians grinnedat the prospect of burning an enemy at the stake. 

He was soon inside the cabinet with one of his guards. This cabinet wasdivided into two compartments, each about four feet square. As soon as heentered one of these, he was told to remove all his clothing and was thenhanded a large, coarse towel. At this, he heaved a sigh of relief and evenchuckled a little at his fright. He was merely being given a bath--aRussian steam-bath. He had heard of such baths, and was now thoroughly infavor of them. 

"A bath is a bath, " he whispered to himself as he twisted the towel abouthis hips, "and a great luxury in this country. "

He was pushed into the other compartment. It was stinging cold out here. Asecond guard appeared with a great metal can filled with the glowing coalsfrom the fire Johnny had seen outside. He set this down upon a smallstand, the top of which was on a level with Johnny's waist, and backedout. A third man appeared with a bucket of water and a huge gourd. Takinga position directly in front of the door, this guard dipped a full gourdof water and poured it on the coals. Instantly a dense cloud of steam roseto the ceiling. This much steam, Johnny figured, would give one acomfortable bath. But at that moment, with a fiendish leer on his face, the man threw on another gourdful, then another. The door slammed and abar thudded into place. 

Immediately Johnny took in the full horror of his situation. He was to besteamed alive. Already the dense, white cloud was descending. Lower andlower it came. He crouched down to avoid it. In another moment, it wouldengulf him. No man could live in such a place. 

His mind worked like chain-lightning. This cabinet? How was it fasteneddown? How strongly? His fingers felt for the lower edge of it. Workingthem down and under, he secured a hold. Then, with all his superbstrength, he heaved away. Something snapped, but still the thing heldfirm. He heaved again. The touch of steam on his back lent him new power. Crack! Crack! Then the uprooted cabinet swayed a second and then crashedinto three of the gaping spectators. 

Johnny leaped forward. A burly fellow seized his arms. Using an oldcollege trick, Johnny fell backward, taking the man with him. Then, withhis foot on the other's stomach, he sent him whirling into two other men, and, before they could recover from their astonishment, Johnny wentsprinting down the side of the long row of willows, which had proved hisdownfall two days before. 

He was headed for home. No Russian, nor Russian dog-team, could catch him. But he was clad only in a towel, and there were many miles of snow betweenhim and his friends. 

Suddenly, from the rear, there came the ki-yi of dogs. 

"Hounds!" he murmured in despair. "Unhitched from the sled. They'll catchme. I can't escape them. " He stared wildly to right and left as he ran, but saw no way of escape. 

 * * * * *

After Johnny Thompson had left camp in search of the Bolshevik band thateventful morning, he was no more than out of sight when a slight figurecrept from a snow-buried pup tent to the right of the cabin and wentgliding away up the hill in the moonlight. It was Pant. Rapidly he scaledthe snow-packed hillside. Arriving at last at the foot of the rocky cliff, he began a minute examination of those cliffs. Once he climbed to a dizzyheight by clinging to the crags. It was a cat-like feat which very fewpersons could perform, but he did it with consummate ease. At another timehe dropped flat on his stomach and crept into a broad crevice between therocks. He was gone for a long time, but finally appeared grimy with dirtand empty-handed. 

"'Money in the rock, '" he murmured. "'Money in the rock for you. '"

Then, as if discouraged with his quest, he turned and started down thehill. 

He had covered half the distance when something caught his eye. A blackspot, the size of a baseball, had bounced mysteriously past him. 

In a twinkling, he was away in mad pursuit. Slipping, sliding, boundingover the glistening surface, turning a somersault to land on his feet andrace ahead, he very soon came up with the thing where it had lodgedagainst a protruding flat rock. 

His fingers grasped it eagerly. Here was a third message from the unknownone. Perhaps this would explain all. 

CHAPTER VII

THE MYSTERY OF MINE No. 1

When Johnny Thompson saw that the wolf-hounds were on his trail, though hewas without weapons of any kind and practically destitute of clothing, hedecided to put as great a distance as possible between himself and theRussians, then to turn upon the pack and sell his life dearly, if indeedit must be sold to a murderous pack of half wolves. 

As he sped forward, through his mind there ran all manner of stories toldround northern camp fires. The stories had to do with these same Russianwolf-hounds. A man had once picketed his dogs near him in a blizzard and, creeping into his sleeping bag, had slept so soundly throughout the nightthat he did not realize the drifting snow was burying him. He had awakenedto struggle against the weight of snow but could not free himself. Monthslater, when the spring thaw had come, his bones had been found pickedclean by his wolf-hounds. A child at Nome, Alaska, playing with hisfather's team, was scratched by one of them. The smell of blood had setthem wild. They had attacked him, and before help could arrive had tornhim in pieces. These stories flooding his memory lent added speed to hisstalwart limbs. 

He ran three miles, four, five miles. But at each added mile, the yelp ofthe hounds came more distinctly to him. Now he could hear the loud flap asthey sucked in their lolling tongues. 

He was becoming fatigued. Soon he must turn and stand at bay. He looked tothe right and left of him. A cutbank presented a steep perpendicularsurface against which he might take his stand with the knowledge that theycould not attack him from the rear. 

"But shucks!" he half sobbed. "What's the use? I'll be frozen stiff beforethey get courage to attack me. "

To the cutbank he ran, then, turning, waited. 

With rolling tongues, the dogs came hurrying up to form themselves into acircle, seven gaunt, gray wolf-hounds grinning at one naked boy. 

Then Johnny, catching the humor of the situation, not only grinned back, but laughed outright, laughed long and loud. What he said when he hadfinished was:

"Bowsie, you old rascal, why didn't you tell me it was you?"

It was his own team. Having been unhitched at the time, they hadrecognized the stride of their master and had deserted with him. It wasindeed a joyous meeting. 

There was, however, no time to be wasted. The bitter cold air madeJohnny's skin crinkle like parchment. His feet, in contact with thestinging snow, were freezing. 

Two of the dogs still wore their seal-skin harnesses. These Johnny toreoff of them and having broken the bindings, wound them in narrow stripsabout his feet, tying them firmly around his ankles. 

So, with his feet protected from the cold, he took up the fifteen miles ofhomeward race, the seven dogs ki-yi-ing at his heels. 

Five miles farther on, he came upon a cache built by some ReindeerChukche. In this he found a suit of deer skin. It was old, dirty and toosmall, but he crowded into it gratefully. Then with knees exposed and armsswinging bare to the elbows he prepared for a more leisurely ten mileshome. He was quite confident that the lazy and stolid Russians were notfollowing. 

Johnny was well within sight of the friendly hill that sheltered his cabinfrom the north wind, when, with a sudden gasp, he stopped and stared. Coming apparently out of the very heart of the hill, an immense brownobject extended itself along the horizon and at last floated free in air. 

To understand this strange phenomenon, we must know what had beenhappening at camp, and what Pant had been doing since finding themysterious black bill. 

The ball was covered with black paper. This much, Pant discovered at once. The rest he left to the seclusion of his pup tent and the light of acandle. 

When at last he unwrapped the paper, he found nothing more than a film, asmall, moving-picture film. This had been developed, dried, then rewoundon a spool. The remainder of the inner contents of the ball was nothingbut blank paper with never a scratch of writing upon it. When Pant hadexamined each scrap carefully, he held the film to the light. There werepictures on it. As his keen eyes studied them, his expression changed fromthat of puzzled interest to intense surprise, almost of horror. 

For a full half hour he sat there holding them close to the light, thenfar away; tipping them to one angle then another, mirroring them on theretina of his eye until nothing could efface them. Then, having rerolledand rewrapped them, he hid them away among his deer skins and turningover, fell asleep. 

He was awake again by sunrise, and without pausing for breakfast wentdirectly to the entrance of Mine No. 1. Having entered without a light, hemade his way to the back of the cavity. There he paused to listen. Theearth shudder seemed to fairly shake the rocks loose about him. One pebbledid rattle to the floor. The next instant there came the clang of rocks onmetal. A light flashed. It was in Pant's hand. In the gleaming circle oflight from his electric torch, a brightly polished disk of metal appeared. It was eating its way through the frozen wall of sand and rock. One secondthe light flashed, the next second Pant was hurrying from the mine as ifhis life depended upon it. 

Dashing down the hill, he broke into the mess-room where the men wereassembled for hot-cakes and coffee. 

"Arms! arms!" he panted. "Rifles, automatics, anything. A pick, two picks. C'mon. "

The men, believing that he had gone mad, stood staring in speechlessastonishment. 

"C'mon, can't you?" he pleaded. "It's the yellow men, the dirty littleyellow men. They've got an infernal machine for cutting out the pay dirtin blocks. They've looted Mine No. 1 while we slept. That was theearth-tremble. C'mon, can't you? Bring rifles! Anything. We'll get themyet!"

Catching a glimmer of his meaning, the men dashed to the bunkroom andclubroom, to appear a moment later armed with such weapons as they couldfind. 

Arriving at the entrance of Mine No. 1, Pant held up a finger forsilence. 

"Arms ready, " he whispered, "your left hand on the shoulder of the manahead of you. I'll lead. "

Without a light, he entered the mine and beckoned the men to come on. Withsoft and shuffling tread they followed, like a chain gang entering adungeon. They took fifty paces, then they halted. A light flashed. Instantly every man gripped his weapon. 

It was only Pant. What they saw before them caused involuntaryejaculations. A hole some eighteen inches square had been cut in thefrozen wall. 

For a second they listened. The silence was so complete that the tickingof a watch sounded like the beat of an alarm clock. 

"They've gone, " whispered Pant. "C'mon. "

His light blinked out. There followed the sound of garments rubbingagainst the walls. The man behind Pant felt him one instant, the next hewas gone. He had crawled through the hole. There was nothing to do butfollow. One by one, thrusting their rifles before them, they crawledthrough this narrow door from the mine. To what? They could not evenguess. 

"'Tis fair spooky, " whispered Jarvis to Dave. "'Ow does 'e know 'ow 'eshould go? Can 'e see in the dark? 'Ow'd 'e come by the name Pantanyway?"

"Langlois give it to him, " Dave whispered back, "the fellow that waskilled here, you know. He claimed Pant could see in the dark and begancalling him 'Panther Eye. ' The men cut it down to 'Panther, ' then to'Pant. ' That's all I know about it. "

"'E's rightly named, " growled Jarvis, as he fumbled his way through thehole in the dark. 

"This way, " came the low whisper of Pant. "As you were, hand toshoulder. "

Only the soft pat-pat of their footfalls on the floor of what appeared tobe a narrow runway broke the tomb-like silence of the place. Now andagain, as they moved forward, Dave Tower felt his shoulder brush someunseen object. Each time he shivered and shrank back. He expected at anymoment to hear the roar of rifles, to find himself engaged in deadlycombat with the mysterious robbers who had looted the mine of its treasurewhile they worked within a stone's throw of it. 

Twice they paused. A silence so deep that it was painful ensued. No soundcame. They marched solemnly on. And now, they had struck a steep incline. 

"Down low; down low; down low, " came whispered back from man to man. 

They stooped to an almost creeping posture and began to climb. The ascentwas steep as a stair. Twice Dave lost his footing, and once came nearsending his rifle crashing to the frozen earth. Some one behind was lessfortunate. There came the clang of steel, then deathly silence. 

Again they crept upward. Suddenly a ray of light cut through the gloom. Inanother second, they were in a veritable flood of light. And yet, as theyglanced rapidly to right and left, they saw walls of rock. Above them toowas a vaulted ceiling. Only before them was light. What could it mean?

In an instant they knew. Leaping toward the opening, they expressed theirsurprise in unchecked exclamations. 

"A balloon! A balloon!"

It was true. It seemed to them, as they looked, that the whole side of themountain had burst open and allowed a giant dirigible balloon to float outfrom its depth. 

What had really happened was evident. These robbers, having located therich mine and having no concession to mine it, had discovered this naturalcave and had cut a channel from it to the place of the gold deposit. Theyhad reached the point by balloon. Having deflated it, they had stowed itaway in the cave and had blocked the entrance of the cave with snow. Thenext blizzard had defaced every sign of their presence. Doubtless therehad been a small secret entrance to the cave which none of JohnnyThompson's men had discovered. 

"They're gone!" exclaimed Dave. 

"And I 'ates to think 'ow much gold they took with 'em, " mourned Jarvis. 

"Quick, the airplane!" shouted Pant, turning to the two aviators. "There'sa machine gun on it. We'll halt them yet. I better go with you. Some ofthe rest of you explore the interior here. They may not have taken thegold. "

Dave Tower snapped on his flashlight, and, after taking one more look atthe giant black "sausage" in the sky, turned to assist the others in theexploration of the looted mine. He had little hope of discovering thetreasure, but he did want to see how they had accomplished the task. 

One more question crowded its way to the front: "How had they killed FrankLanglois?"

CHAPTER VIII

THREE MEN DISAPPEAR

It was the dirigible balloon that Johnny Thompson saw as he rounded thepoint of the hill in his wild flight from the Bolshevik band. 

With his dogs grouped about him, he stood and gazed at it in speechlessastonishment. Where had it come from? What was its mission? Whither was itgoing? These and many other questions sped through his mind as the balloonrose lazily in air. 

Scarcely a moment had passed when a sound arrested his attention. It wasthe thunder of a powerful gasoline engine. He guessed that it was themotor of his own airplane. He had not long to doubt, for in a second themachine came swooping into sight. It made directly toward the clumsysausage. Lithe and bird-like it tore away after the balloon. 

Was this a friendly visit or an attack? The answer came in a series ofnoisy punctuations--the rat-tat-tat of a machine gun. 

This balloon then was an enemy. Dimly the truth entered Johnny's mind. Hewas beginning to connect the balloon with the little yellow men who hadattacked him, and with the earth shudder, but how it all fitted in hecould not tell. Who was the enemy?

His eyes were on the two ships of the sky. The airplane, having circledclose to the cabin of the balloon, had fired a volley, whether directly atit or above or below it, he could not tell. Now the plane circled closeagain. But what was this? A man was climbing to the upper rigging of theplane. Now he was standing, balancing himself directly on top. Johnnyrecognized the slim figure of Pant. Now the plane, with engine dead, drifted toward the cabin of the balloon. They were almost even with it. There came three snorts of the engine and the plane shot beneath thecabin, then out on the other side. But Pant? Where was he? He was not onthe upper surface of the plane nor climbing down on the rigging. 

Johnny sat down dizzily. Cold perspiration stood out on his brow. Theexcitement, following hours of fatigue and near starvation, was too muchfor him; his head swam; his eyes blurred. 

But he shook himself free from these sensations and gazed skyward. Heexpected to see Pant come crashing down to earth. He did not. There couldbe but one answer: he had leaped in midair for the underrigging of thecabin of the balloon and had caught it. What a feat! It made Johnny's headdizzy to think of it. He did not doubt for one moment that Pant would doit. But what could be his purpose? Had the balloon broken loose? Was itdrifting free, a derelict? This he could not believe, for the thing hadseemed to travel in a definite direction. Besides, if this was true, whythe machine-gun fire? Had they killed the only occupants? Johnny hopednot. He hated death. Whatever the men had done, he hoped they had not beenkilled. But why had Pant taken such chances?

Then as he looked, he saw a package drop over the side of the cabin. Itfell straight downward, with tremendous velocity. But there came a suddencheck. It was attached to a parachute. The parachute had opened. Itscourse was now marked by a little down-rush, then a pause, then a rushagain. 

He had been so intent on his observation of this that he did not realizethat once more an object had fallen from the car. This time it was a man. He also was attached to a parachute. 

As he came into Johnny's circle of vision, the boy rose and waved hisarms, crying with a hoarse shout of joy:

"Pant! Pant! Good old Pant! He's safe!"

 * * * * *

When Dave Tower and Jarvis led the little band of miners back through thecave, they found, as they had expected, that a small tunnel had been cutout of the frozen earth to form an entrance to the mine. Before enteringthis tunnel, they paused to look about them. Ranged about the walls, piledtier on tier, were black cubes of sand and gravel. From these came theglitter of yellow metal. These were cubes of pay dirt which would yield arich return when the spring thaw came. Bits of cable, twisted coils ofwire, a pair of rusty pliers, told that electricity had been employed aspower for mining. 

A smooth spot on the cave's floor showed where some form of engine hadbeen set. That the power of the engine had been supplied by gasoline wasshown by a great pile of empty one hundred gallon steel tanks which hadbeen stolen from the company's supply in the sheds. 

Dave picked up the pliers and rubbed the rust from them. 

"They're Orientals all right, " he mused. "Pliers got their stamp on 'em. But say! These boys sure had some ideas about mining placer gold. A mancould take their machine to Alaska and make a fortune. Let's have alook. "

"Sure! Sure!" came from a half score of throats. 

They hurried down the narrow tunnel to find themselves in the mine. Here, as in the cave, they found cubes of pay dirt piled high on every side. Atthe end of it all was a low square machine with a buzz-saw-like wheelextending from it. The power wires, still attached to it, had been cutsome ten feet from it. 

"'E's a clever one!" said Jarvis. 

"I'll say so, " agreed Dave. 

 * * * * *

Before Pant leaped from the balloon, after throwing overboard the twohundredweight sack of gold which the yellow men, in their fright at themachine-gun fire, had deserted in the outer cabin, he performed one othervaluable service. He threw over the heavy anchor, which was attached to asteel cable. 

The anchor shot like a plummet for the ground and proceeded to hang itselfsecurely in a corner of rock. The progress of the balloon was instantlyhalted. Still filled with terror at the machine-gun fire, the yellow mentook to their parachutes. On landing, they made good their escape bylosing themselves in the rocky ledges which rose up from the sea shore. Itwas useless to pursue them there. 

By the time all this had happened, Dave and Jarvis, with their men, hadcome out from the mine and had joined Johnny, who, still prancing about inhis ridiculous costume, was rejoicing with Pant over the sudden enrichingof their treasure-hoard. 

"Get a windlass, " said Dave. "We'll bring that giant bird to earth. Theremay be more treasure aboard her. "

In due time the balloon-cabin touched the snow and the men swarmed uponit. 

They were disappointed in their hope of finding further treasure, but theydid find a solitary man. He was a white man and was totally unconsciousfrom a blow on the head. 

"Dave, you and Jarvis stay here and see what you can do for the chap, "said Johnny. "All the rest of you come with me. We've got work ahead of usand a plenty. The Bolshevik band will be here in less than twenty-fourhours. We'll have to float our schooner, load the provisions and gold andbeat it. "

He turned once more to Dave and Jarvis. "If you bring him to consciousnessand can manage it, carry him to the ship. Otherwise I'll send two men tohelp you when we are through loading. "

Wild hours of tireless labor followed for the the main gang. To bring theschooner from the bank to the water-channel, a quarter of a mile over theice, was no mean task. It was at last accomplished. After that, theloading went on rapidly. 

Nothing had been seen of Dave and Jarvis when the last case of provisionshad been brought aboard. 

Johnny chose two of the men and went round the hill to assist in bringingthe injured man to the ship. Imagine his astonishment when, on roundingthe curve, he saw that the balloon was gone. 

"Gone!" he murmured, dazed at the suddenness of it. 

A hasty examination of the surroundings gave them no sign of the missingmen. 

"Must have broken loose and sailed away with them. "

At that instant he caught the gleam of a light on the western sky. 

"Camp fire of the Bolsheviki. We can't wait another moment, " he muttered. "And it wouldn't do any good if we did. They're gone. "

He turned and led his men back to the ship. 

A half hour later the little schooner was pop-popping her way through anarrow channel to open water beyond. She carried, besides her crew andprovisions, a hundredweight of gold taken in the last three days from MineNo. 2, and twice as much taken from the robber yellow men. Thirty-five percent of this would do wonders in Vladivostok. Johnny was sitting andthinking of these things and of a wireless message he had received but afew days before, when he suddenly began wondering where Pant was. 

"Say, " he exclaimed, turning to one of his men, "where's Pant? Haven'tseen him since we put out. "

Sure enough, where was he? They searched the ship. He was not to be found. At last Johnny spied a note pinned to his spare parka. It was written byPant. 

"Dear Johnny, " it read, "you will pardon me, I am sure, for leaving yourservice at this time. But you won't need me down there and Vladivostoksounds too tame. Up here there is real adventure. 

 "Good-bye, "PANT. "

Johnny looked at the man beside him and the man looked at him. 

"Queer chap, " murmured Johnny. "But a real sport at that. "

"No use to try to find him. "

"Not a bit. "

"Queer chap, " Johnny murmured again, "Queer eyes. "

"That Pant was just short for Panther Eye, " said the miner. "Men gave himthe name. One of them claimed he was hunting panthers once with a skillfulsurgeon. A panther tore his right eye out. The surgeon shot the pantherand grafted an eye into Pant's empty socket. The fellow claimed he'd seenhim with those yellow goggles off. Said his pupil contracted in the lightlike a great cat's eye. But you can't believe half those men tell you. "

"No, you can't, " said Johnny. "I guess every chap has a right to have asecret or two about himself and keep them. Pant had his and kept it. That's about as far as we'll ever get on that mystery. What say we go tochow?"

CHAPTER IX

STARTLING PERILS

In the harbor at Vladivostok a thirty-ton gasoline schooner threaded itsway through narrow channels left by ocean liners and gunboats toward adeserted water-front where half-dismantled warships of ancient Russiandesign lay rotting in the sun. Straight to a rickety wharf they made theirway. 

Hardly had they thrown a line over a swaying post when two men sprangacross the narrow space. 

"Watch your step!"

It was Johnny Thompson who spoke. The man with him was the young doctor ofhis outfit. 

As they cleared the dock and entered a side street of this metropolis ofeastern Russia, they walked with a heavy tread; their step lacked theelasticity that their youthful faces would warrant. They were either veryweary or very heavily burdened. No burdens were visible, though somethingmight be concealed beneath their greatcoats. There was, indeed, abulkiness about their forms from shoulder to waist, but in this Arcticclime, coming as they had from the north, one might easily credit this tosweaters. 

As they reached the shadow of a building, Johnny stopped and fumbled inhis pocket. At the same time his gaze wandered away toward the north. 

"Wonder where Pant is now?" he grumbled. "I miss the little rascal, don'tyou?"

"Sure do. "

"Wonder what made him drop us flat that way?"

"Can't say. Had a reason, though. He always had a reason, and a good one. There was something he wanted to do. "

"Hope he does it quick and gets on down here. He's been part of mybodyguard so long, I confess I don't feel safe in a new place like thiswithout him. "

Johnny stopped fumbling in his pocket and drew forth three yellow slips ofpaper. 

"Here's the messages. I wrote 'em all down. Mighty little good they'll dous. "

He read them aloud:

"'When can you come across?'" (Signed) "M. "

"'We must produce. At once. '" (Signed) "M. "

"'Am in danger. Come across. '" (Signed) "M. "

"What does a fellow get out of that, anyway?" he grumbled. "What does thisfellow 'M' expect? The first one reached us after we'd been operating twomonths, the second a month later, and the third a month after that. Whatdoes he think this land is like? Three thousand miles! But then, I supposethe rotten Russians did it. Made threats, likely. "

"Doesn't give any address, " commented the doctor. 

"Not a scratch. We'd better go to the Red Cross headquarters, whereverthat is. Let's hunt it up. "

Again they took up their heavy, even tread and came out from the narrowstreet onto a broader one, which appeared to lead to the business sectionof the city. 

As Johnny sniffed the pungent odor of spring in the twilight air, he wasforcibly reminded of the time consumed in that journey from the mines toVladivostok. He regretted the many delays. When they occurred, he hadfairly fumed at them. He realized now that "M, " whoever that might be, theagent sent from Chicago to superintend the distribution of supplies forthe refugee orphans, might have been compelled to leave Russia beforethis. That the Russians, disturbed by a thousand suspicions and fears, would not tolerate a stranger who had no apparent purpose for being intheir land, he knew all too well. The agent could state the purpose of hispresence in the beginning and get away with it, but when months hadelapsed and nothing had been done, what dark suspicions might be directedagainst him?

Johnny heaved a sigh of resignation. Nothing that had happened could havebeen avoided. Time and again ice-floes clogging the waters of thosenorthern seas had threatened to crush their craft, and only by longdetours and many hours of tireless pulling away from the giant cakes hadthey found a passage. The journey could have been made by reindeer in thesame length of time. As he thought of that, his heart skipped a beat. Whatif the little yellow men who had come so near making away with that twohundredweight of gold had succeeded in securing reindeer, and had madetheir way to Vladivostok? What would they not risk to regain possession ofthe gold that had been snatched from them?

As he thought of this, he picked his steps more cautiously along theslippery streets. He cast a glance to the right and left of him. Then hestarted and plucked at his companion's sleeve. 

"Hist!" he whispered. "Watch the alley to the right!"

 * * * * *

When Pant so abruptly deserted Johnny Thompson's service, leaving only avaguely worded note to tell of his going, he had, indeed, a plan and apurpose. So daring was this purpose that had he taken time to think itthrough to its end, he might never have attempted it. But Pant thoughtonly of beginnings of enterprises, leaving the conclusions to workthemselves out as best they might, effectively aided by his own audacity. 

His purpose can best be stated by telling what he did. 

When he left the schooner that night and crossed over the shadowy shoreice, a blizzard was rising. Already the snow-fog it raised had turned themoon into a misty ball. Through it the gleaming camp fires of theBolshevik band told they had camped for the night not five miles from themines. 

The blizzard suited Pant's purposes well. It might keep the Russians incamp for many hours, and would most certainly make an effective job of alittle piece of work which he wished to have done. 

With a watchful eye he skirted the cabin they had left but a brief timebefore. A pale yellow light shone from one of the windows. Either theplace was being looted by natives, or the yellow men had taken refugethere. The presence of a half-score of dogs scouting about the outside ledhim to believe that it was the natives. Where, then, were the Orientals?

Breathing a hope that they might not be found in the mines or the machinesheds, he hurried on. With a hand tight gripped on his automatic, he madehis way into Mine No. 1. All was dark, damp and silent. The very ghost ofhis dead comrade seemed to lurk there still. Who was it that had killedFrank Langlois, and how had it been done? Concerning these questions, henow had a very definite solution, but it would be long before he knew thewhole truth. 

Once inside the mine, he hastened to the square entrance that had been cutthere by the strange buzz-saw-like machine of the Orientals. The wall wasthin at this place. With a pick he widened the gap until the machine couldbe crowded through, and with great difficulty he dragged it to theentrance of the mine. Once here his task was easier, for the machine wason runners and slid readily over the hard-crusted snow. With a look thisway, then that, he plunged into the rising storm. Pushing the machinebefore him, he presently reached the mouth of Mine No. 3 in which threedays of steam-thawing had brought the miners to a low-grade pay dirt. Thecavity was cut forty feet into the side of the bank which lay over the oldbed of the river. 

Having dragged the machine into the farthest corner, he returned to theentrance and at once dodged into the machine sheds. To these sheds he madefive trips. On a small dog-sled he brought first a little gasoline engineand electric generator, next eight square batteries, then some supplies offood, a tank of gasoline, and some skin garments from the storeroom. Hislast journey found the first gray streaks of dawn breaking through thestorm. He must hasten. 

With a long knife he began cutting square cakes of snow and fitting theminto the entrance of the mine. Soon, save for a narrow gap well hiddenbeneath a ledge of rock, the space was effectively blocked. 

He stretched himself, then yawned sleepily. 

"It's a poor game that two can't play at, " he muttered. "Now, if I can getthis machinery singin', we'll see what Mine No. 3 has saved up for us. Unless I miss my guess, from the way the rock lays, she'll be a richone. "

With that he crept into his sleeping-bag and was soon lost in the land ofdreams. 

Pant's first act, after awaking some six hours later, was to connect fourof his batteries in series, then to connect the ends of two wires to thepoles of the series. The wires were attached at the other end to a socketfor an electric light. 

When the connections were completed he screwed in a small bulb. Thefilament in the lamp glowed red, but gave no light. 

Two batteries were added to the series, then two more. At this, the lightshone brightly, dispelling the gloom of the place and driving the shadowsinto the deepest recesses. 

With a smile on his lips, the boy twisted a wire into a coil, connected itto the battery circuit, watched it redden, then set his coffee-pot overit. 

He was soon enjoying a cup of hot coffee and pilot bread. 

"Not so bad! Not even half bad!" he muttered good-naturedly to himself. "Electricity is great stuff. Now for the mining stunt!"

He listened for a moment to the howl of the blizzard outside, then beganbusying himself with the machinery at hand. Connecting the batteries tothe gasoline generator to give it a "kick-off, " he heard the pop of theengine with evident satisfaction. He next connected all his batteries inseries and, having connected the engine, ran wires from it to the motor inthe strange, mining buzz-saw. There followed a moment of suspense, then agrunt of disgust. 

"Not enough voltage. Gotta get more batteries to-night. Dangerous, too. Storm's going down. Bolsheviki coming in. Natives prowling an' yellow men, don't know about. Gotta do it though. "

At that he sat down on his sleeping-bag, and, with arms outstretched, likeJack London's man of the wild, he slept the uneasy sleep of one who huntsand is hunted. 

Night came at last and, with it, wakefulness and action. Cutting a holethrough the snow-wall, which under the drive of the storm had grown to asurprising thickness, he crept out and slid down the hard bank, leaving notracks behind. 

The storm had abated; the moon and stars were out. As he dodged into thestore sheds, he fancied that he saw a shadow flit from sight at the otherend. 

Working rapidly, he unearthed four fresh batteries. They were heavyaffairs. A sled improvised from a plank and a bit of wire would aid him inbringing them up the hill. He had just arranged this contrivance and wasabout to turn toward the door, when a sudden darkening of the patch ofmoonlight admitted by the open door caused him to leap behind the massiveshape of a smelter. He peered around the edge of it, his breath comingrapidly. 

Through his mind sped the question: "Bolsheviki, natives, or yellow men?"

 * * * * *

Upon freeing itself from the frozen claybank, the sausage balloon, withDave Tower, Jarvis and the unconscious stranger on board, rose rapidly. 

In their wild consternation, Dave and Jarvis did not realize this untilthe intense cold of the upper air began to creep through theheavily-padded walls of the cabin. 

At this, Jarvis dropped on his stomach and stared down through theplate-glass on the floor. 

"Shiver my bones!" he ejaculated, "we're a mile 'igh and goin' 'igher!"

At this word Dave dashed for the door. He had it half open. A blast of airso cold that it seemed solid ice rushed its way through the opening. 

Immediately Jarvis threw himself against the door. 

"What'll y' do?" he stormed. "I 'ates to think 'ow stiff you'd freezeh'out there in the 'alf of a second. "

Dave shook with the cold and the excitement. The stranger in the cornergroaned. 

Jarvis sprang to the gasoline motor. 

"If we can get 'er started we'll 'ave some 'eat. "

After five minutes of fumbling about with stiffening fingers, hestraightened up with a sigh. 

"Can't make 'ead nor tail of 'er. These bloomin' 'eathen; they make suchqueer riggin's. "

Dave did not answer. He had discovered a series of sealed wet batterieslined against the wall and, having dragged one of these loose from itswiring, prepared to test it out with a piece of insulated wire. 

In a second there came a blinding flash. 

"Charged! Charged to the gunwale!" he exulted. "Now if we can only hookthem up with the heating system of this cabin, we're all right. Give us ahand. "

Jarvis, catching his idea, began searching for the connecting wires of theheating system, while Dave connected the batteries in series. 

"'Ere they are, " he exclaimed suddenly. "Right 'ere, me lad. "

Soon a life-sustaining warmth came gently stealing over the place. 

"Take hoff 'alf the batteries, " suggested Jarvis, "'alf's a plenty. There's no tellin' 'ow long we'll be sailin' in this hark. "

This was hardly done when their attention was attracted by the stranger. He had groaned and turned over. 

"Now that it's warm enough, " suggested Dave, "we'd better try to help thepoor fellow back to consciousness. If he hasn't suffered a concussion ofthe brain, he'll live yet, and perhaps he can tell us things. There areplenty of questions I'd like to ask him. "

"Yes, " exclaimed Jarvis eagerly. "'Oo killed Frank Langlois. "

They went to work over the man. Having removed his outer garments, theyunbuttoned his shirt and began chafing his hands, arms and chest, tillthey were rewarded by a sigh of returning consciousness. 

"Where am I?" the man whispered, as he opened his eyes. 

"You're all right, " answered Dave quickly. "Drink this and go back tosleep. "

He held a cup of steaming malted milk to the man's lips. He drank itslowly. Then, turning an inquiring look on Dave, he murmured, "American?"

In another second he was lost in a sleeping stupor. 

Dave twisted himself about and gazed down at the panorama of purpleshadows that flitted along beneath them. 

"Patient doing well, " he murmured at last. "Going due north by west. Fortymiles an hour, I'd say. Beautiful prospects for all of us, Mr. Jarvis. Going right on into a land that does not belong to anybody and wherenobody lives. Upon which hundred thousand square miles would you prefer toland?"

Jarvis did not answer. He was dreaming day dreams of other adventures hehad had in that strange no man's land. 

Finally he shook himself and mumbled:

"No 'opes. No 'opes. "

"Oh, I wouldn't say it was as bad as that, " smiled Dave. "Let's have a cupof tea. "

"Yes, let's, " murmured Jarvis. 

CHAPTER X

PLAYING A LONE HAND

Hardly had Johnny Thompson in Vladivostok uttered his warning to thedoctor than a figure leaped out at him from a dark doorway. Not havingexpected an attack from this direction, Johnny was caught unprepared. Aknife flashed. He felt a heavy impact on his chest. A loud snap followedby a scream from his assailant. There came the wild patter of fleeingfootsteps, then the little drama ended. 

"Hurt?" inquired the doctor, a deep concern expressed in his tone. 

"Nope, " Johnny smiled. "But I'm afraid the rascal's ripped a hole in oneof my moose-hide sacks. The gold is leaking out. "

"Hang the gold!" ejaculated the doctor. "Let it go. It's done itspart--saved your life. An armor of gold! I'd say that's some class!"

"That's all right, " said Johnny, still keeping an eye out for otherassailants. "But sentiment won't buy biscuits and honey for starvingchildren. Gold will. Give us a hand at stopping the leak. "

"Go easy, " admonished the doctor, "you'll give the whole thing away. "

They worked cautiously, revealing nothing to a possible prying eye. Whenthe task was completed, Johnny stooped to pick up the hilt of the brokenblade. He turned it over and over in his hand, regarding it curiously. 

"Oriental, all right, " he murmured. "I wonder if those little rascalscould have beaten us here. "

"Come on, " exclaimed the doctor impatiently, "this is no place forwondering. I'm for a safe place inside somewhere. "

A few turns brought them to Red Cross headquarters, and to one of the bigsurprises of Johnny's rather adventurous life. He had hardly crossed thethreshold when his lips framed the word:

"Mazie!"

Could he believe his eyes? Yes, there she was, the girl chum of hisboyhood days, the girl who had played tennis and baseball with him, whohad hiked miles upon miles with him, who swam the sweeping Ohio river withhim. The girl who, in Chicago, having tried to locate him, had come nearto losing her life in a submarine. 

"Mazie! Mazie!" he whispered. Then, "How did you come here?"

"By boat, of course, " smiled Mazie. "How'd you think?" She took both hishands in hers. 

"But, Mazie, this is a man's place. It's dangerous. Besides, what--"

"What's my business? Well, you see, I'm your agent. I'm going to spend allthat splendid gold you've been digging to help the orphans. I'm 'M. ' Itwas I who did all that frantic wireless stuff. Did you get it?"

"I did, " smiled Johnny, "and if I'd known it was you I would have come onby wireless. "

"But now, " he said, after a moment's reflection, "as Jerry the Rat wouldsay, 'Wot's de lay?'"

Mazie sighed. "Honest, Johnny, have you the gold? Because if you haven't, it's 'Home, James, ' for me. These Russians are the most suspicious people!They've threatened to put me aboard ship twenty times because I wasn'tmaking good. I wasn't feeding anybody, as I have said I would. And, oh, Johnny!" she gripped his arm, "the last three days I've been sofrightened! Every time I ventured out, day or night, I have seen littleyellow men dogging my footsteps; not Japanese military police, but justlittle yellow men. "

"Hm, " grunted Johnny, "I fancy Doc and I met one of them just now. Heseemed to know us, too. Here's his dagger. "

"Broken?" exclaimed Mazie. "How?"

Johnny stepped to the door of the small parlor and closed it. 

"Gold, " he whispered, "an armor of gold. "

From beneath his coat he drew a sack of gold. 

"Yes, Mazie, we've got the gold--plenty of it. Again I ask you, 'Wot's delay?'"

Mazie clasped her hands in glad surprise. For fully three minutes sheacted the part of a happy child dancing around a Christmas tree, withJohnny doing the part of Christmas tree and delighted parent all in one. 

At last, she came down to earth. 

"What we need is food and shelter for the poor little wretches. Oh, Johnny, I can't tell you--"

"Don't need to, " interrupted Johnny, "I soldiered in this God-forgottenhole for nine months. Tell me what we can do first and fastest. "

"Well, there's a great empty hotel down in the street St. Jacobs. It has awonderful dining-room, big enough for a thousand women and children. Wecan rent it for gold. "

"For gold, " said Johnny, setting a sack of gold on the table. 

"Then we can get rice and sweet potatoes from China by ship, for gold. "

"For gold, " again echoed Johnny, banging three heavy sacks on the table. 

"Oh, aren't you the Midas!" exclaimed Mazie, clapping her hands. 

"But, Johnny, " she said presently, "there's one more thing. It's hard, andI'm afraid a bit dangerous. Rice and sweet potatoes are not enough forstarving people. "

"I'll say not. "

"They need soup. Many would die without it. Soup means meat. We must haveit. The nearest cattle are a hundred miles away. The Mongols have them. They are the border traders between China and Russia, you know. They havecattle--hundreds of them. They can be bought for gold. "

"For gold, " smiled Johnny, patting his chest which still bulgedsuspiciously. "I'll be off for the cattle in the morning. I'll leave Dochere to do what he can, and to look after you. "

"Good!" exclaimed Mazie, clapping her hands again. "The Red Cross willsupply you a band of trustworthy Russians to help drive the cattle here. The Mongols won't dare bring them. "

"All right, " said Johnny. "And now, what about the supposed hospitality ofthe Red Cross? I'm hungry. So is Doc. "

"Right this way, " and Mazie hurried through the door. 

Half an hour later the two were enjoying such a meal as they had not eatenfor months; not because of its bountifulness, nor richness, but because itwas prepared by a woman. 

"To-morrow, " said Johnny, as he murmured good-night, "I am to venture intoone more unknown land. "

"Yes, and may your patron saint protect you as he has done in the past, "said Mazie. 

"My patron saint is a miss, " smiled Johnny, "and her name is Mazie. Good-night. "

 * * * * *

Realizing that he was trapped, the instant that forms blocked the door ofthe machine sheds at the Seven Mines, Pant tackled the problem of escape. If these were natives or yellow men, they would treat him rough. If theywere Bolsheviki, he could hope for no better fate. His only hope lay inescape. The place had no other door and no open windows. He must gain hisfreedom by strategy. Evidently, he must play the cat-and-mouse act aboutthe piles of supplies and machinery. 

As he dodged back to a position behind a large ore crusher, he managed tocatch sight of the two men. 

"Bolsheviki!" he gasped inaudibly. "What giants!"

Full-bearded giants they were, reminding him of nothing so much as ofBluebeard in the fairy books, or the Black Brothers in "The Lost River. "

Seeming to scent him, as a dog scents a rat, they moved cautiously downthe narrow passage between piles. As yet, they had not caught sight ofhim. Hope rose. Perhaps they would pass by him. Then he could make a dashfor it. Yet, this was not entirely satisfactory. They would follow him, would see where he had gone, if he escaped to the mine. Then all his planswould go glimmering. 

Instantly there flashed through his mind a bolder and, if it worked, abetter plan. Moving close to the crusher, he put his hand to the greathopper that rested on and towered above it. This was made of iron and wasfully eight feet wide and quite as deep. His keen eye measured theaperture at the bottom. No giant, such as these were, could crowd throughthat hole. And the hopper was heavy. Applying all his strength to it, hefelt it give ever so slightly. It was not bolted down; it was merelybalanced there. He would be able to topple it over. And, once over, itwould be a difficult affair to handle, especially from beneath. 

As he waited, his heart thumped so loudly that it seemed the Russians musthear and charge down upon him. 

They came on cautiously, peering this way then that. He caught the gleamof a knife, the dull-black shine of an automatic. It was a man hunt, sureenough--and he was the man. Now they were five paces from him, now three, now two. His breath came in little inaudible gasps. His muscles knottedand unknotted. 

And now the moment had come. The men were even with the crusher, on theopposite side from him. Gathering all his strength, he heaved away at thehopper. There followed a grinding sound, a shout of warning, then a dullthud. The enemy were trapped. 

Pant spun round the crusher like a top. Seizing the wire he had arrangedfor his improvised sled, he rushed toward the door, dragging the batteriesafter him. 

A glance backward came near convulsing him with laughter. One of theRussians had succeeded in thrusting his head through the narrow opening atthe top of the inverted hopper. Here he stuck. To the boy, he resembled abackwoodsman encircled by a barber's huge apron. 

But there was little time for mirth; business was at hand. New problemsconfronted him. Were other Bolsheviki near the shed? If so, then all waslost. 

Poking his head out of the door, he peered about carefully. There was nota person in sight. The wind had risen. 

"Good!" he muttered, "it will hide my tracks!"

He was soon speeding across the snow. In another five minutes he waspeering like a woodchuck from his hole in the snowbank. His batteries werealready inside. If he had not been observed, he had only to block hisentrance and leave the wind to plaster it over with drifting snow. 

As he looked his brow wrinkled. Then he dodged back, drawing the snow-cakedoor after him. The two Russians had emerged from the shed. 

 * * * * *

For hours on end the balloon, with Dave Tower, Jarvis and the stranger onboard, now hundreds of miles from the mines, swept over the barrenwhiteness of unexplored lands. The sun went down and the moon shone in allits glory. The fleeting panorama below turned to triangles great andsmall--triangles of pale yellow and midnight blue. Now and again the earthseemed to rise up toward them. By this Dave and Jarvis knew that they weredrifting over snow-capped hills. When it receded, they knew they were overthe tundra. Sometimes they caught the silver flash and gleam of a riverthe ice of which had been kept clear of snow by the incessant sweep of thewind. 

As Dave crouched by the plate-glass window staring down at that wonderfuland terrible spectacle of an unknown land, he asked himself the question:"Was this land ever viewed by mortal man?"

The answer could be only a surmise. Perhaps some struggling band ofpolitical exiles, fighting their way through summer's tundra swamps andover winter's blizzard-swept hills, had passed this way, or lingered todie here. Who could tell? Surely nothing was known of the mineral wealth, the fish, the game, the timber of this unexplored inland empire. What afield to dream of!

His mind was drawn from its revels by a groan from the stranger. He wasawake and conscious. Propping himself half up on an elbow, he stared abouthim. 

"Where am I?" He sank back, an expression of amazement and fear written onhis face. 

"Who are you?" asked Dave. 

"I--why--I, " the man's consciousness appeared to waver for a second. "Why, I'm Professor Todd from Tri-State University. "

"What were you doing with the Orientals?"

"Orientals?" The man looked puzzled. "Orientals? Oh, you mean the natives;the Chukches. Why, I was studying them. Getting their language, takingpictures, getting phonographic records, and--"

Suddenly the man's face went white. 

"Where--where are we?" he stammered through tight-set lips. The balloon, caught in a pocket of thin air, had caused the car to lurch. 

"Taking a little trip, " said Dave reassuringly. "You're all right. We'llland after a bit. "

"Land? So we are on a ship? I've been sick? We're going home. It is well. Life with the Chukches was rotten, positively rotten--positive--"

His voice trailing off into nothingness. He was asleep again. 

Dave stared at him. Here was a new mystery. Was this man lying? Had hebeen in collusion with the Orientals, and was he trying to hide that fact;or had the rap on his head caused a lapse of memory, which blotted out allrecollections of the affair in the case and mine?

"Look, Dave!" exclaimed Jarvis suddenly, "as I live it's the City ofGold!"

In the east the sun was just peeping over the horizon. But Jarvis was notlooking in that direction. He was looking west. There, catching the sun'sfirst golden glow, some object had cast it back, creating a veritableconflagration of red and gold. 

Dave, remembering to have viewed such a sight in other days, and in whatmust have been something of the same location, stared in silence for afull minute before he spoke:

"If it is, " he said slowly, "there's only one salvation for us. We've gotto get down out of the clouds. The last time I saw that riot of color itwas on the shore of the ocean, or very near it, and to drift over theArctic Ocean in this crazy craft is to invite death. "

He sprang for the door which led to the narrow plank-way about the cabinand to the rigging where the valve-cord must hang suspended. 

CHAPTER XI

DANGLING IN MID AIR

Before dawn, the morning after his interview with Mazie, Johnny was awayfor the camp of the Mongols. There was a moist freshness in the air whichtold of approaching spring, yet winter lingered. 

It was a fair-sized cavalcade that accompanied him; eight burly Russianson horseback and six in a sled drawn by two stout horses. For himself hehad secured a single horse and a rude sort of cutter. He was not alone inthe cutter. Beside him sat a small brown person. This person was anOriental. There could be no mistake about that. Mazie had told him onlythat here was his interpreter through whom all his dealings with theMongols would be done. 

He wondered much about the interpreter. He had met with some finecharacters among the brown people. There had been Hanada, his schoolfriend, and Cio-Cio-San, that wonder-girl who had traveled with him. Hehad met with some bad ones too, and that not so long ago. His experiencesat the mines had made him, perhaps, unduly suspicious. 

He did not like it at all when he found, after a long day of travel andtwo hours of supper and pitching camp, with half the journey yet to go, that this little yellow person proposed to share his skin tent for thenight. At first he was inclined to object. Yet, when he remembered thefeeling that existed between these people and the Russians, he realized atonce that he could scarcely avoid having the interpreter for a tent-mate. 

Nothing was said as the two, with a candle flickering and flaring betweenthem, prepared to slip into their sleeping-bags for the night. 

When, at last, the candle was snuffed out, Johnny found that he could notsleep. The cold air of the long journey had pried his eyes wide open; theywould not go shut. He could think only of perils from small yellow people. He was, indeed, in a position to invite treachery, since he carried on hisperson many pounds of gold. He, himself, did not know its exact value;certainly it was thousands of dollars. He had taken that which the doctorhad carried, and had left the doctor to do what he could for thesufferers, and to assist Mazie in her preparations of the great kitchensand dining-room where thousands were to be fed. 

For a long time, he thought of treachery, of dark perils, reaching abloody hand out of the dark. But presently a new and soothing sensationcame to him. He dreamed of other days. He was once more on the longjourney north, the one he had taken the year previous. Cio-Cio-San wassleeping near him. They were on a great white expanse, alone. There was noperil; all was peace. 

So great was the illusion that he scratched a match and gazed at thesleeping face near him. 

He gave a little start at the revelation it brought. Certainly, there wasa striking resemblance here to the face of Cio-Cio-San. Yet, he toldhimself, it could not be. This person was a man. And, besides, Cio-Cio-Sanwas now rich. She was in her own country living in luxury and comfort, alady bountiful among her own people. 

He told himself all this, and yet so much of the illusion remained that hefell asleep and slept soundly until the rattle of harness and the shout ofhorsemen told him that morning was upon them and they must be off. 

He looked for his companion. He was gone. When Johnny had dressed, hefound the interpreter busily assisting with the morning repast. 

"Just like Cio-Cio-San, " he muttered to himself, as he dipped his handsinto icy water for a morning splash. 

 * * * * *

After his escape from the two Bolsheviki in the machine shed, Pant sat bythe entrance to his mine in breathless expectancy. The two Russianscertainly had not seen him enter the mine, but others might have done so, and, more than that, there was grave danger that they would track him tohis place of hiding. 

He was not surprised when his alert ear caught a sound from without, closeat hand. He only crowded a little further back into the corner, that thelight from the broken-in entrance, providing it was discovered andcrushed, should not fall upon him. 

His heart thumped loudly. His hand gripped his automatic. He expectedimmediate action from without. His hopes of reaching the mother-lode ofthis mine vanished. He thought now only of escape. 

But action was delayed. Now and then there came sounds as of footsteps andnow a scratching noise reached his ear. The crust of the snow was hard. Perhaps they were attempting to tear it away with some crude implement, astick or board. 

As he listened, he heard the whine of a dog. So this was it? One of theirhounds had tracked him down. They were probably afraid of him and wouldwait for him to come out. 

"In that case, " he whispered to himself, "they will wait a long, longtime. "

He did not desert his post. To be caught in the far end of the mine meantalmost certain torture and death. 

As he listened, he heard the dog's whine again and again, and it wasalways accompanied by the scratching sound. What could that mean? A houndwhich has found the lair of its prey does not whine. He bays his message, telling out to all the world that he has cornered his prey. 

The more the boy thought of it, the more certain he became that this wasnot one of the Russian hounds. But if not, then what dog was it? Perhapsone of Johnny Thompson's which had escaped. If it were, he would be afriend. 

Of one thing Pant became more and more positive: there were no men withthe dog. From this conclusion he came to a decision on a definite courseof action. If the dog was alone, whether friend or foe, he wouldeventually attract attention and that would bring disaster. The logicalthing to do would be to pull out the snow-cake door and admit the beast. If he were one of the Russians wolf-hounds--Pant drew a short-bladed knifefrom his belt; an enemy's dog would be silenced with that. 

With trembling fingers he gripped the white door and drew it quickly away. The next instant a furry monster leaped toward him. 

It was a tense moment. In the flash of a second, he could not determinethe character of the dog. His knife gleamed in his hand. To delay wasdangerous. The beast might, in a twinkle, be at his throat. 

He did not strike. With a supple motion he sprang to one side as the dogshot past him. By the time he had turned back toward the entrance, Pantrecognized him as a white man's dog. 

"Well, howdy, old sport, " he exclaimed, as the dog leaped upon him, readyto pull him to pieces out of pure joy. 

"Down, down, sir!"

The dog dropped at his feet. In another minute the snow-door was in itsplace again. 

"Well, old chap, " said Pant, peering at the dog through his goggles. "Youcame to share fortunes with me, did you? The little yellow men had atiger; I've got a dog. That's better. A tiger'd leave you; a dog never. Besides, old top, you'll tell me when there's danger lurking 'round, won'tyou? But tell me one thing now: did anyone see you come in here?"

The dog beat the damp floor with his tail. 

"Well, if they did, it's going to be mighty tough for you and me, that'sall I've got to say about it. "

 * * * * *

Upon opening the door to the cabin of the balloon, after catching thegleam of the supposed domes of the City of Gold, Dave Tower found, to hisgreat relief, that they had dropped to a considerably lower level thanthat reached by them many hours before. He was able to stand exposure tothis outer air. 

He began at once to search for cords which would allow gas to escape fromthe balloon. 

"Should be a valve-cord and a rip-cord somewhere, " he muttered to himself, "but you can never tell what these Orientals are going to do about suchthings. "

As he gazed away toward the north, he was sure he caught sight of darkpurple patches between the white. 

"Might just be shadows and might be pools of salt water between theice-floes. If we land on the ocean, good night!"

Hurriedly he searched the rigging for dangling cords. He found none. Ifthere had been any, they had been thrown up and tangled above by thetossing of the balloon. 

Dave stared dizzily upward to where the giant sausage drifted silently on. It was a sheer fifty feet. To reach this there was but one means, aslender ladder of rope. Could he do it? Could he climb to the balloon andslit it before they reached the ocean?

It was their only chance. If the City of Gold was not a complete illusion;if human beings lived there at all, they might hope for food and shelter. There were chemicals in the cabin for re-inflating the balloon. A fairwind, or the discovery of the method of operating that Oriental engine, might insure them a safe voyage home. But once they were out over theocean--his heart went sick at the thought of it. 

Gripping the rounds of the ladder, he began to climb. It was a periloustask. Now with a sinking sensation he felt the ladder apparently drop frombeneath him. The balloon had struck a pocket of air. And now he felthimself lifted straight up a fleeting hundred feet. 

Holding his breath, he waited. Then, when the motion was stable, he beganto climb again. He had covered two-thirds of the distance, was staring upat the bulk that now seemed almost upon his very head, when, with a littlecry, he felt his foot crash through a rotten strand. It was a second ofdreadful suspense. Madly he grasped the rope sides of the ladder. His lefthand slipped, but his right held firm. There, for a fraction of time thatseemed an eternity, supported by only one hand, he hung out over thousandsof feet of airy space. 

His left hand groped for the ropes which eluded his grasp. He gripped andmissed, gripped and missed. Then he caught it and held on. He was holdingfirmly now with both hands. But how his arms ached! With his feet he begankicking for the ladder, which, swinging and bagging in the wind, seemed aselusive as a cobweb. At last, when strength was leaving him, he doubled uphis knees and struck out with both feet. They fell upon something andstuck there. They had found a round of the ladder. Hugging the ropes, hepanted for breath, then slowly worked himself to a more natural position. 

"Huh!" he breathed at last. "Huh! Gee! That makes a fellow dizzy!"

He had climbed ten steps further when a cry of joy escaped his lips:

"The valve-cord!"

It was true. By his side dangled a small rope which reached to theballoon. 

Gripping this he gave it a quick pull and was rewarded at once by the hissof escaping gas. 

"Good!" he muttered to himself, as he prepared for his downward climb. "Trust an Oriental to make things hard. Suppose they thought if they hadit any closer to the car the children might raise the dickens by playingwith it. "

He swung there relaxed. They were dropping. He could tell that plainlyenough. Now he could distinguish little lines of hills, now catch thecourse of a river, now detect the rows of brown willows that lined itsbanks. 

He looked for the gleam of the City of Gold. There was none. The sun hadevidently climbed too high for that. 

His eyes roamed to the north. Then his lips uttered a cry:

"The ocean! We can't escape it!"

CHAPTER XII

THE RUSSIAN DAGGER

Johnny Thompson, with his interpreter by his side, found himself in thecamp of the Mongols. It was a vast tented city, a moving city of traders. Down its snow-trod streets drifted yellow people of all descriptions. Men, women and children moved past him. Some were young, some very old. Allappeared crafty and capable of treachery. 

"It was against these people that the Chinese built their great wall, "said Johnny thoughtfully. "I don't wonder. "

"When do we see his highness, the great high chief who deals in cattle?"

His interpreter smiled. "I have just come from there. We may go to see himnow. "

Johnny twisted one shoulder as if adjusting a heavy burden, then turned tofollow the interpreter. 

He did not like the looks of things; he longed to be safely back inVladivostok with Mazie. There were times like this when he wished he hadnot taken it upon himself to play the fairy godfather to Russia's starvinghosts. But since he had undertaken the task, however difficult it mightprove, he must carry on. 

He soon found himself sitting cross-legged on a floor so deeply imbeddedin soft, yielding skins that he sank half out of sight beneath them. Before him, also reposing in this sea of softness, was a Mongol of unusualsize, whose face was long and solemn. He puffed incessantly at along-stemmed Russian pipe. 

Forming the third corner of the triangle, was the little interpreter. 

The two members of the yellow race conversed in low tones for some time. At last the interpreter turned to Johnny:

"I have told him that you want to buy cattle, much cattle. He say, howmuch you want to pay? How you want to pay? How much you want to buy?"

"You tell him that I saw six of his cattle out here just now. They arevery poor. But we will take them--maybe. Ask him how much?"

"He say, have you got gold?"

"You say, " grinned Johnny, "that we have got gold. We don't need abutton-hook to button up our purse, but we've got gold. We pay gold. Howmuch?"

The interpreter puckered up his brow and conveyed the message. The Mongolmumbled an answer. 

"He say, how much you want pay?"

"Tell him for six cattle I pay one pound gold. All same. "

He drew from his pocket a small leather sack, and unlacing the stringsheld it open before the Mongol. 

The crafty eyes of the trader half closed at sight of the glisteningtreasure. His greedy fingers ran through it again and again. Then hegrunted. 

"He say, " droned the interpreter, "how much cattle you want to buy?"

"Maybe three hundred, " stated Johnny casually. 

The interpreter started, but delivered the message. 

The Mongol, upon receiving this word, sprang from the furs like a jackfrom his box and hot words rushed rapidly from his lips. 

When he had finished, the interpreter explained that he said Johnny wasjesting with him. It was impossible that anyone would buy three hundredhead of cattle with gold in the starving land of Russia. 

The Mongol sank back to his place among the furs, and the bickering wascontinued. For two hours it waged, ending finally by the promise of theMongol that, in the morning, the cattle should be at hand; that they wouldbe better than those Johnny had seen; and that Johnny's "beggarly" priceof one pound of gold for six cattle would be accepted. 

Once the bargaining was over, the Mongol was transformed in a second'stime into the most charming of hosts. Johnny and his interpreter must dinewith him. Yes, indeed! They must sleep in his tent that night. They shouldtalk long and of many things. It was not often that he had the honor ofplaying host to such a rich and clever guest. Indeed, it was not. But theyshould not converse so long together that Johnny and his most excellentinterpreter should be robbed of their night's repose. 

Several hours later, Johnny was buried to the point of smothering beneathrugs of fur that would bring the price of a king's ransom. His mind wasstill in a whirl. Perhaps it was the tea, perhaps the excitement of bigbusiness, and again, it may have been a premonition of things to happen. Whatever it may have been, he could not sleep. 

His racing mind whispered to him of treachery out of the night. It hadbeen a wonderful evening. They had been treated to a feast such as he hadseldom dreamed of. Surely these Mongols could concoct from beef, rice, sweet potatoes and spices the most wonderful of viands. And, as for tea, he had never tasted real tea before. The aroma of it still haunted hisnostrils. 

And the Mongol had told him many things. He had traveled far, had thistrader; he had seen much. He spoke of Russia, of China, Japan and India. He told of matters that made Johnny's blood run cold, of deeds done inthat border-land between great countries, each seething with revolutionand bloodshed. Not that he, the Mongolian, had done these things, but hehad seen them accomplished. And he had traded for the spoils, the spoilsof rich Russians driven from their own land and seeking refuge in another. He was a trader. It was his business. He must have profit. What should onedo? If he did not take the riches, another would. But as for committingthese deeds himself, Confucius forbid it; he had scowled to show hisdisapproval. 

At the same time, as Johnny thought it all through, and felt the hardlumps about him that were sacks of gold, he found it very difficult tofall asleep. 

His interpreter, lying not an arm's length away, breathed with the steadyease of one in deep slumber. The Mongol had drawn a curtain of ermineskins between them and his own bed. Could it be that this interpreter hadmade his way into the good graces of Mazie only to turn murderer androbber at the proper time? Johnny had only Mazie's word that the personcould be trusted, and Mazie was but a girl, not accustomed to thedeep-seated treachery in the oriental mind. 

He had traveled far that day; he had talked long and dined well; he was ahealthy human being; and sleep came at last. 

How long he had slept, he did not know when he was awakened by anindescribable sensation. Had he heard something, felt something? He couldnot tell. He breathed on, the steady deep breath of a sleeper, and did notstir, but he opened an eye a mere crack. A shadow stretched across him. Itwas made by a person who stood between him and an oriental lamp whichflickered dimly in the corner. His eye sought the place where theinterpreter lay. The skins were too deep there and he could not tellwhether he was there or not. 

The shadow shifted. The person was moving into view. He could see him now. He was short and brown of face. 

"The interpreter!" These words formed themselves on his lips, but were notspoken. 

The next second he knew it was not the interpreter, for there came a stirat his side as the interpreter sat up. 

So there were two of them. Treachery! Well, he should not die alone. Hishand gripped the cold steel of his automatic. He tilted it ever soslightly. Fired from where it lay, it would send a bullet crashing throughthe crouching interpreter's chest. He was about to pull the trigger whensomething arrested his attention. 

A blade gleamed in the hand of the interpreter. Even in this darkness, herecognized the weapon as one he had taken from a would-be murderer, aRussian Chukche. He had given it to a very good friend, a Japaneselady--Cio-Cio-San!

A cold chill ran down his spine. Had he come near killing a friend? Wasthis one crouching in the act of defending him against an enemy? Coldperspiration stood out upon his brow. He made a tremendous effort tocontinue breathing evenly. He could only take a desperate chance and awaitthe turn of events. 

 * * * * *

Hardly had Dave Tower discovered the imminent peril of drifting out overthe ice-packed sea, than a ray of hope came to him. Scattered along themainland of this vast continent there was, here and there, an island. Should they be so fortunate as to drift upon one of these, they might besaved. 

Hurriedly climbing down from his perilous perch, he hastened to informJarvis of their position. 

"Blind my eyes!" exclaimed Jarvis. "Wot don't 'appen to us ain't worth'appenin'. "

Then Dave told him of his hope that there might be an island ahead. 

"I 'opes so, " said Jarvis, as he seized a glass and rushed outside to scanthe broken surface of the sea. 

In the meantime, the balloon was sinking rapidly. It was only a matter oftime until the cabin would bump upon an ice-pile. Then it was doubtful ifeven the quickest action could save their lives. 

They brought the stranger, who was now able to sit up and stare about him, to the outer deck. He gazed down at the swaying, flying landscape and wasbadly frightened when he discovered that they were in midair, but Davereassured him, while Jarvis brought sleeping-bags and boxes of food to aposition by the rail. 

"If the worst 'appens, we'll at least h'eat and sleep on the floe until it'eaps up an' buries us, " he grumbled. 

"Land ahead!" exclaimed Dave suddenly, throwing down his glasses andrushing inside the cabin. He was out again in a moment, bearing on hisshoulder a coil of steel cable, and dragging a heavy land anchor afterhim. 

"We may be able to save the old boat yet, " he yelled excitedly. "Jarvis, bring out the rope ladder. "

Jarvis hastened inside and reappeared almost immediately with the ladder. 

"It's an island, " said Dave, "and, as far as I can judge, we're only twoor three hundred feet from its surface when we get above it. We'll throwover the anchor and if it catches somewhere, we'll go down the ladder. Intime the balloon will lose gas enough to bring her to earth. "

"You 'ave a good 'ead, me lad, " approved Jarvis. "'Ere's 'opin' it 'appensthat way!"

It did happen that way, and, in due course of time, the three men foundthemselves on the brow of a low plateau which seemed as deserted as thepyramids of Egypt, and quite as barren of life. 

"One thing's sure, " said Dave. "We've got to get the gas back into thatold cloth tank and catch a fair wind, or get that engine to working, if wedon't wish to starve. "

"Aye, " said Jarvis. 

"There's a strange pile of rocks up on the ledge there. I'm going for alook at it, " said Dave. 

He returned in a few moments, mingled excitement and amusement on hisface. 

"Jarvis, " he smiled happily, "we're not so badly off, after all. Here weare right back in old United States of America!"

"United States?" Jarvis stared. 

"Says so in this message I found in a brass can. Says--"

Dave broke off suddenly. Something on the crest to the right of them hadcaught his attention. Grasping his automatic, Dave went skulking away inthe shadow of the hill. 

Jarvis, too, had seen it and awaited the outcome of this venture witheager expectancy. 

CHAPTER XIII

CIO-CIO-SAN

Hardly had Johnny Thompson's finger lessened its pressure on the triggerof his automatic, than the interpreter sprang straight at the figure thatcast the shadow. 

A scream rent the air. 

With a spring, Johnny was on his feet, just in time to see one of thefigures drop. In the dim light he could not tell which one. He stood theremotionless. It had all happened so quickly that he was stunned intoinactivity. 

In that brief moment bedlam broke loose. The Mongol chief sprang frombehind his curtain. Other Mongols, deserting all night games of chance, came swarming in on all sides. Their jargon was unintelligible. Johnnycould not tell them what had happened, even had he rightly known. 

The fallen man was dragged out upon the snow, where his blood made arapidly spreading dark circle on the crystal whiteness. He was dead beyonda doubt. 

Slowly the group settled in a dense ring about some one who was talkingrapidly. Evidently the survivor of the tragedy was explaining. Was it theinterpreter or the other? Johnny could not crowd close enough to tell. 

He flashed his electric torch upon the fallen body. The sight of the hiltprotruding from the chest, over the heart, gave Johnny a start. Hisinterpreter had won. It was his knife that had made the fatal thrust. Thedead man was undoubtedly Oriental and not a member of the Mongoliantribe. 

That knife! Johnny started. How had this person come into possession ofthat blade which he had given to Cio-Cio-San? That Cio-Cio-San would notgive it away, he was certain. What then had happened? Had it been stolenfrom her, or was this strange interpreter, who had doubtless just nowsaved his life, Cio-Cio-San herself? It seemed unbelievable, yet his mindclung to the theory. He would soon know. 

Slowly the crowd dispersed. The killing of an Oriental in such a camp asthis was merely an incident in the life of the tribe, a thing soon to beforgotten. Two servants of the chief bore the body away. Once more Johnnyfound himself sitting in the triangle with his interpreter and the Mongol. In his hands he held two knives; one he had drawn from the heart of thedead man and had cleansed in the snow; the other was the one dropped bythe murderer. This last one evidently had been meant for him. 

The Mongol was profuse in his apologies, while he lauded to the sky thebravery of the little interpreter. The slain man, he explained, was nomember of his company. He was one of three who had camped on the outeredge of the village that very night. Doubtless they had followed Johnnywith the purpose of murdering and robbing him. He had sent at once for theother two men, but they had fled. He hoped now that his guests might sleepin peace. 

After delivering this message, he bowed himself back through the curtains. Johnny and the interpreter were left alone. It was a dramatic moment. Theinterpreter's fingers twitched nervously. Once the brown eyes fell uponthe knives Johnny held, but instantly they flashed away. Johnny had drawna freshly lighted fish-oil lamp to his side. 

"Friend, " said he in a low tone, "you have done me a great service thisnight. Will you do me but one more?"

"Gladly, most gracious one. "

The small head bent low. 

"Allow me. " Johnny took one of the brown hands, and began rolling up theloose sleeve of the brown-skin parka. The brown face blanched a trifle. Heuncovered a sleeve of pink silk, and beneath that a slender brown arm. Onthe arm, a finger's length beneath the elbow, was a triangular scar. 

Johnny sighed, then carefully rolling down the sleeve, dropped the hand. 

"It is enough, " he smiled, "you are my old and very dear friend, Cio-Cio-San. You have to-night added greatly to the debt of gratitudewhich I owe you and can never repay. But why did you come? And why, mostof all, are you in disguise? Why are you in Russia at all? Why not in yourbeloved Japan?"

Cio-Cio-San sighed as if relieved at feeling the mask removed. 

"I came to Russia to find a very dear relative who had lived with myfamily in the interior of Russia before this revolution came upon us. Imet Mazie; your so good friend. She pressed me into her service. Who couldrefuse? I was glad to be of help. 

"Then, because there was no Japanese man who could speak for you to theMongols, she asked me to go. And, because it is unsafe for a woman to goon such a journey, undisguised, I dressed as a man. So, there you have itall. I am glad you know, you are a man of great honor. You will not tellothers. You will protect me from them. " There was no question in hervoice. 

Johnny put out his hand in silence. Her small brown one rested in his fora moment. 

Then in drowsy silence they sat by the sputtering lamp until the tinkle ofbell, the clatter of harness, the shout of drivers, and the distant lowingof cattle, told them it was another day. 

That day's business was quickly brought to a close. Before the sun washigh in the heavens, Johnny found himself once more tucked beside hisinterpreter in the cutter, slowly following his Russians, who drove asplendid herd of cattle over the snow-clad fields and hard-packed roadstoward Vladivostok. Johnny owned that herd. Soon it would be supplyingnourishment to the hungry little ones. 

The return journey was crowded with recollections of other days, of thosedays when he and Cio-Cio-San had followed the glistening trail to the farNorthland. But, as the spires of the cathedral in the city loomed up togreet him, Johnny's mind was filled with many wonderings and not a fewmisgivings. He was coming to the city of eastern Russia which more thanany other had seen revolt and counter-revolt, pillage and sudden death. Inthat city now, starvation and disease stalked unmolested. In that city, the wary Japanese military police maintained order while many a rampantradical lurked in a corner to slay any who did not believe in his gospelof unlimited freedom and license. Into that city Johnny must go. Every manin it craved gold and food, and Johnny had both. He would use it for thegood of the sufferers, if he was given time. But those who rob and kill, do not wait. He was troubled about Mazie. He had trusted gold to her care. Had he acted unwisely; subjected her to needless perils?

He thought of the Oriental who had attempted to take his life back therein the Mongol's camp. There had been a strong resemblance between this manand the band of men who had attempted to rob Mine No. 1. Had they securedreindeer and made their way to Vladivostok? If so, they would dog histrail, using every foul means to regain possession of the gold. And Mazie?If they had entered the city, had they discovered that part of the goldwas in her hands? He shivered at the thought of it. 

At last, leaving the cattle in a great yard, surrounded by a stone fence, some five miles from the outskirts, he drove hurriedly into Vladivostok. 

CHAPTER XIV

NEARING THE CITY OF GOLD

The creature for which Dave had gone on a double-quick hunt, after theballoon had landed on the desert island, was a reindeer. He had probablycrossed over on a solid floe from the mainland. It was his last crossing. Soon Dave came back dragging two hundred pounds of fresh meat behind him. 

"No more 'gold fish' in cans, " he exulted. "No more evaporated milk andpickled egg. We eat, Jarvis, we eat!"

"That's fine, " smiled Jarvis, "but what's all the words you been spillin'about this bein' America?"

"Oh!" laughed Dave. "That was something of a joke, though this islandreally does belong to old U. S. A. Captain DeLong, an American, whose shipwas crushed in the ice near this island, was its first discoverer. Heclaimed it in the name of his country and christened it Bennett Island. Itsays that in the message he left in his cairn. But that don't feed us. I'mstarved. There's driftwood on the beach. C'mon. "

Soon they were roasting strips of delicious venison over a crackling fire. Supper over, they lay down with faces to the fire and talked overprospects for the future. The stranger was with them, but had little tosay. He seemed puzzled at the unusual circumstances of the journey and wasconstantly asking when they would return to the native village at themouth of the river. 

"Evidently, " said Dave, after a long and fruitless attempt to draw fromhim any account of his life with the Orientals in the mine, "the rap hereceived on his head blotted out all memory of those days. If we can't getthat particular stretch of memory in working order, we may never know howFrank Langlois was killed, nor who it was that sent us strange messages onphonographic records and moving-picture films. I'm hoping his memory'llcome back. A sudden shock may bring it round at any time. "

Their conference regarding the future resulted in a determination to waitfor a change of wind which would insure them a safe trip to the mainland. In the meantime, Dave would prepare the chemicals for immediate inflationof the balloon and Jarvis would study over the Japanese puzzle of agasoline engine which would not respond to his touch. 

Jarvis' work netted nothing. Three days later an onshore wind arose, andthe balloon, wafted upward on its gentle crest, brought the explorers backto the mainland. 

"Land! Land! And the City of Gold!" exclaimed Jarvis, as the eveningclouds lifted and gave them a momentary view of that strange golden gleamwhich for so long had haunted their dreams. 

Once before, many months ago, the two of them had neared the spot on anocean craft, but duty to marooned comrades had called them back. Now theyhad only themselves to think of, and the City of Gold, if city it be, would offer to them a haven of refuge. 

What wonder that their hearts beat wildly as they caught its gleam andrealized that in a very few moments they would be landing within a quarterof a mile of that mysterious city, which, according to the natives whomthey had met long ago, did really exist as a place of many people and muchgold. 

"Pull the cord! Pull the cord!" shouted Jarvis excitedly. "We're nearin'shore. "

He had spoken the truth. As Dave gripped the cord attached to the gasvalve on the balloon and in his imagination heard the hiss of escaping gasand felt the drop of the balloon, his thoughts sobered. After all, whatdid they know about these strange people? What sort of treatment wouldthey receive from them? If they landed they might, in less than an hour, be dead. Might it not be better to allow the balloon to rise and toattempt a journey back to some Russian town? But instantly he realizedthat this gale which was coming would carry them to the heart ofBolsheviki Russia. What chance would they have there?

"Pull the cord! Pull the cord!" insisted Jarvis. 

Mechanically, Dave's hand came down. The hiss of air was followed by thesagging drop of the car. The die had been cast. 

 * * * * *

For an hour, after admitting the white man's dog to his secret mine, Pantsat listening for any sound that might tell of his discovery. After this, heaving a sigh of relief, he turned at once to the work that lay beforehim. He realized that whatever he did must be done soon. 

Dragging the newly acquired batteries back to where the others were linedup along the wall, he attached one of them to the circuit, then threw inthe switch which should set the buzz-saw mining machine into operation. Anangry spit and flare was his only reward. 

Nothing daunted, he cut in another battery, then another. As he touchedthe switch after attaching the third battery, a loud whirring soundrewarded him. 

"Eureka! I have found it!" he cried, leaping high in air. "Now we win!"

The dog barked loudly at this singular demonstration, but since thevault-like mine was sound proof, it mattered little how noisy was hisrejoicing. 

The cutting machine was instantly set in operation. The sing of the wheelagainst the frozen earth was deafening. The earth-tremble, started by themachinery, could not fail to make itself felt outside the mine. But whenhe realized that only the yellow men knew the cause of such a tremble andthat they were many miles from that spot, making their way south with dogteam or reindeer, Pant had little fear. He would find his way to themother-lode, would melt snow from the inside of the bank by the mine'sentrance, would wash out the gold; then, if only he could evade theRussians and the Chukches, he would begin the southward journey. 

Hour by hour, the stacks of dark brown cubes of frozen pay dirt grew atthe sides of the mine. Hour by hour, the yellow glistened more brightly inthe cubes. Yet he did not come to the mother-lode. He slept but little, taking short snatches now and then. Sometimes he fell asleep at his task. One thing began to worry him; the gasoline was running short. With nogasoline to run his motor, there could be no electric current, no power. 

Now and again he fancied that men were prowling about the snow-blockedentrance. He knew these were only fancies. Sleepless days and nights weretelling on his nerves. When would the rich pay come?

At last, while half asleep, he worked on the upper tiers of cubes, therecame a jarring rattle which brought him up standing. The wheel had strucksolid rock. This meant that there was a ledge, a former miniature fall inthe river bed. At the foot of this fall, there would be a pocket, and inthat pocket, much gold. The gasoline? There was yet enough. To-morrow hewould clean up the mother-lode. Then he would be away. 

He stumbled, as in a dream, to his blankets, and, wrapping them about him, fell into a stupor that was sleep and more. 

 * * * * *

As the balloon, in which Dave Tower and Jarvis rode, drifted toward theshore of the mainland, Dave, shading his eyes, watched the yellow gleam ofthe City of Gold darken to a purplish black, then back to a dull gray. 

"Man, it's gone. I 'ates to look, " groaned Jarvis. "It's gone, the City ofGold. "

Dave had been expecting something like this to happen. "Probably thesurface of some gigantic rock, polished by wind and rain, reflecting therays of the sun, " was his mental comment. He did not have the heart toexpress his thoughts to Jarvis. 

They drifted on. Suddenly Dave dived into the cabin and returned with apair of powerful binoculars. He turned these on the spot where the shiningCity of Gold had been. 

What he saw brought an exclamation to his lips. It died there unuttered. "After all, " he thought to himself, "it may be nothing, just nothing atall. "

What he had seen was still brownish gray in color, but instead of the flateven surface of a rock broken here and there by irregular fissures, he hadseen innumerable squares, placed as regularly as the roofs of a house. "Nature does not build that way. Man must have had a hand in it. Here'shoping. " Such were his mental comments as he saw land rise up to meetthem. Were they nearing an inhabited land?

He did not have long to wait for the answer. As the balloon drifted inover the land, figures ran across the snow, in evident pursuit of thedrifting "sausage. "

Jarvis, who had taken the glass, let out a roar. "It's 'uman's, me lad, 'uman bein's it is, and if it's no one but the bloody, bloomin' 'eathen, I'll be glad to see 'em. "

He was right. As the anchor, catching in a claybank, jerked the balloon toa sudden halt, they could see the people racing toward the point where thecar was sure to land. 

Dave's mind was in a whirl. First his right hand gripped his automatic, next it hung limp at his side. What manner of people were they, anyway? Ifthat broad flat surface of little squares meant the roof of a building, then these certainly were not natives, Chukches or Eskimos. Those alwayslived in houses of deer skin or snow. And, if it was a house, what animmense thing it must be. A hundred feet long, perhaps two hundred, andhalf as wide. 

There was little time for speculation. The balloon carriage droppedrapidly. Their daft professor hung to the rail, babbling incoherent thingsabout returning to the mouth of the Anadir. Jarvis was silent. Evidentlythere was but one thing to do; to trust themselves to the tender merciesof these people. 

As the cabin bumped the snowy tundra, Dave sprang over the rail, followedby Jarvis, who assisted the still feeble professor. 

They found themselves at once in the midst of a curious-eyed group ofpeople. These, with their long beards and droll clothing and drollmanners, made Dave feel as if he were another Rip Van Winkle entering aland of dreams. 

In the crowd there were some twenty men, slowly straggling in. There was awoman of middle age, and beside her a girl of about sixteen years, evidently her daughter. Dave's eyes approved of the girl, and though shewas a stranger to his tongue, she did not fail to find an immediate meansof letting him know that she looked upon him with much favor. 

All these people were dressed in skins, fawn skins for the most part, though there were occasional garments of leather. The garments were notcut at all after the manner of Chukches or Eskimos. The girl wore a skirtand a loose middy-like jacket of white buckskin, the skin of which hadbeen split thin. The garments suited her wonderfully well. 

Dave had concluded, before one of them spoke, that they were Russians. When the oldest man of the group attempted to address him, he knew hisguess to be correct, though he understood not one word of what was beingsaid. 

"But what, " he asked himself, "are these people doing here so far withinthe Arctic Circle, and how do they live?"

Having made it evident that he did not understand their language, heawaited further attempts at conversation. Other languages were tried withno success, until a man of thirty years or past suddenly said:

"Do you speak English?"

Dave could have wept on his shoulders for pure joy. What he did do was toextend his hand with a hearty, "Put her there, old chap, that's just whatI do!"

"You must be hungry, " said the new-found friend. 

"We could eat, " admitted Dave. 

"Come this way. "

Having made sure that the balloon was in a safe position, Dave and Jarvis, assisting the professor, followed their host round a point of rock and upto a row of cabins on the southern side of the hill. Having entered one ofthese, they were invited to sit down while the professor was helped to aroom in the rear and tucked into bed. 

"Now, gentlemen, " said the stranger, "we can offer you only venison andfresh sweet potatoes for your main course. You will perhaps not mind that. But in the matter of salads, we can give you a little choice. Will youhave head lettuce or sliced cucumbers?" He smiled genially. 

Dave looked at Jarvis; Jarvis stared at Dave. Was this man jesting? Headlettuce and cucumbers in mid-winter, inside the Arctic Circle? What a rankimpossibility! Yet the man did not smile. 

"Mine's 'ead lettuce an' a little whale blubber, " laughed Jarvis. 

"And yours?" smiled the host, turning to Dave. 

"S-s-same, " stammered Dave, "'E's a jolly sport, " sighed Jarvis, as the man went out. "Next 'e'lloffer strawberries for dessert. "

Imagine their utter astonishment when the man returned presently with awooden tray heavily laden with food, and on it, not only two heapingwooden bowls of head lettuce, but two smaller bowls of luscious redstrawberries, and beside each of these, a little wooden pitcher of richcream. 

"Sorry we have to offer our food in such plain dishes, " smiled the host. "We have experimented with pottery but have had no success as yet. " Hebowed himself out of the room. 

"Dave, old pal, " said Jarvis, "don't move, don't speak to me. Don't wakeme up. I'm 'aving such a beautiful dream. "

CHAPTER XV

TRAPPED

The day following his locating of the mother-lode, Pant worked feverishly. Hardly four hours had passed when he found himself digging away the heartof the snowbank that blocked the entrance to his cave and melting it thathe might wash the pans of rich gold that were now being thawed from thecavity beneath the one-time river falls. 

"Going to be a rich haul, " he whispered to his dog, "richer than Mine No. 2, not so rich as No. 1, but rich enough all right. And if we can make ourgetaway, Oh, boy!"

Only one thing troubled him as he worked. Not having been outside at thetime the blizzard was piling snow about the entrance to the cave, he couldnot tell the exact depth of the snowbank; could not be sure that he wasnot removing too much of the snow and leaving too thin a crust above. 

This did not worry him greatly, however. The hard-packed snow would notcrumble in easily. So he cut away at it until there was a hollow space atthe mine's entrance twenty feet long and half as wide. 

Meanwhile, he was panning the pay dirt and putting it away in carefullysewed, split walrus-skin sacks. At times, he paused to rub his handstogether like Midas, as he stowed away another sack on the top of a smallsled which was hidden in a corner. On this sled were a sleeping-bag and alittle food. When their work was completed and the gold all loaded on, heand the dog would harness themselves to this sled and steal out into thenight. If they were successful in evading the Bolsheviki, the natives, andthe little yellow men, they would hurry on to the south where there was areindeer station. There he would barter his watch and other valuables fortwo sled deer. He would hate parting with the dog, but he could not takehim with the reindeer. 

The mine had been fairly stripped of its wealth and the sled loaded downwith gold, when, as he drank his coffee, munched his hard biscuit, andthought things through, he was startled by a growl from the dog. The nextinstant there came the dull thud of falling snow-crust, followed by thejarring thump of a heavy body. A startled expression uttered in Russianbrought Pant to his feet with his hand on his automatic. 

Realizing that one of the Russians had blundered upon the snow above theentrance, that it had caved in with him, and that the only chance ofsafety was in "getting" that Russian before he made his escape, he dasheddown the mine. An unfortunate step threw him to the floor. This lost himthe race. On reaching the spot, he found the Russian had vanished. 

"Well, old pal, " he said, addressing the dog, "that means we gotta getout, and mighty quick, too. That fellow's not coming back alone. Bolsheviki'll be swarming up here like bees in less time than it takes totell it. "

He stood silent for a moment. Then he sprang into action. 

"I've got an idea!"

Seizing the long knife from a shelving rock at the side of the entrance, he began cutting cubes of snow from the bank. Working along the edge ofthe rocky cliff, where the bank was thickest, he soon had a side tunnelwell started. He worked with feverish haste. It was only a matter ofmoments until the whole Bolshevik band would be upon him. To come out intothe open was to invite death. To hide away in the side cavity in the snowwith his gold, to wait until they had all entered the mine, then to burrowhis way out and make his escape, seemed his only hope. 

When he had tunneled into the bank ten or twelve feet and hurriedlyarranged some blocks for closing the opening, he raced to the back of themine for his sled. He had just made a grab for the draw-strap, when therecame a sound from the entrance. 

He was trapped. They had come. His heart skipped a few beats. How manythere were, he could not tell, but more than enough. He must act and actquickly, and, even so, all seemed lost. On one thing he was determined; hewould not abandon the gold save as a last resort. 

The dog, exercising an almost human sagacity, uttered not a single growl, but hung close to his master's side. 

Exerting all his strength, the boy threw the heavily laden sled upon hisback; then, in a crouching posture, he began making his way toward theentrance. There was no light, yet he made his way without a second'shesitation, round little piles of frozen earth and over heaps of stone andgravel. Not a rock was loosed, not a sound made by his soft, paddedfootsteps, as he moved swiftly along the passage. 

Now he was a quarter way to the entrance, now half. No definite plan ofaction had entered his mind. He knew only that, in some way, he must makegood his escape. 

Suddenly a light flared. A match had been struck. A bearded face flickeredbehind it in the shadows, then another and another. There followed asteadier gleam of light. 

"A candle!" the boy whispered in despair. 

He shrank back into the deeper shadows. The procession of grizzled giantsmoved forward with caution. Soon they were twenty feet from him and thenonly ten. It seemed inevitable that he should be seen. 

The moment for action had arrived. In his right hand was a heavy lump offrozen pay dirt. With a sure twist of the wrist he sent this crashing intothe candle. Amid the curses of the men, the candle snuffed out. The nextinstant, there came a thundering crash. Pant had overturned a whole tierof pay dirt cubes. 

In the midst of the confusion that followed, he made his escape. Scorninghis snow-den, in which he was to have hidden, he scrambled out of the mainentrance and, with the sled shooting on before him down the steep incline, headed straight toward the ice-blocked ocean. 

It was but a matter of moments until he found himself effectually lost inthe labyrinth of ice piles and up-ended cakes on that endless expanse ofice that lined the shore. 

Breathing more easily, he sat down upon his sled, and, after digging intohis scant food supply, opened a can of frozen beans. These he shared withhis dog. Having eaten, he took up his tireless march to Vladivostok. 

These things had been happening to him while his former companion, JohnnyThompson, was threading his way through the ice floes to Vladivostok. While Johnny was completing his journey and making his trading trip to thewandering city of Mongols, Pant was hurrying southward. This passage wasuneventful. It so happened that, the very day on which Johnny Thompson wasabout to re-enter this Russian city of many dangers and mysteries afterhis visit to the Mongols, Pant, coming from an opposite direction, wasalso entering. 

It will not, I am sure, seem strange that Johnny at this very time foundhimself longing for this companion and his protection. And, of course, since Johnny was known to have gone to Vladivostok, it will not seemstrange that Pant was wondering if he would be able to locate him there. 

You will observe that the "clan is gathering. " The little band for a timeso widely and strangely separated are moving toward a common center, Vladivostok. Pant and Johnny are at the city gates. But Dave and Jarvis, far in the north, are only hoping. If they can get the balloon afloat andcan manage the engine, Vladivostok is to be the air-port of their dreams. 

CHAPTER XVI

THE CITY OF GOLD

The head lettuce, strawberries, and the cream which Dave Tower and Jarvissaw before them on the wooden tray in the cabin of the mysterious Russianwere part of no dream, but a glorious reality. Their palates testified tothat fact in prompt order. 

"But where'd they come from?" inquired Dave, smacking his lips. 

"Don't ask, " grumbled Jarvis. "It's enough they're 'ere. "

Dave did ask and he did receive a reply. They had hardly finished theirmeal, when the friendly stranger was at hand, ready to show them thevillage. 

The cabins they had seen were ordinary affairs, built of driftwood. But asthey rounded a corner of rock, they were confronted by a very differentscene. Beyond them stretched the broad, low roof of what appeared to be avast greenhouse. And indeed that was exactly what it was. That anothersuch greenhouse did not exist anywhere in the world, they were soon tolearn. 

"The Golden City, " murmured Jarvis. 

"But the glass?" exclaimed Dave. "Where did you get it?"

"Not a square inch of glass in it, " smiled their host. "Come inside. "

Soon they breathed the peculiar, tropical dampness that fills everygreenhouse. All about them were green things growing. To the right ofthem, prodigious potato plants thrived in beds of rich earth; to the leftwere beds of radishes, head lettuce and onions. Over their heads, suspended in cleverly woven baskets of leather, huge cucumbers swungaloft, their vines casting a greenish light over all. Far down the narrowaisle, numerous varieties of plants and small fruits were growing. Closebeside them ran a wall of stone, which, strangely enough, gave off amellow heat. Along the wall to the right ran a stone trough, and, in this, a murmuring stream of water went glittering by. 

"Tell us the answer to this fable, " whispered Dave. "We are all ears, ohWise One!"

"There's not much story to tell, " said the host. "A political exile innorthern Russia, having been farmed out as a slave to a trader, wascarried with his master, against their wishes, on the angry waters of thegreat Lena River to the shores of the Arctic Sea. They struggled along theseashore until they came to this place, and here, for a time, theytarried. 

"The exile was learned in many sciences. He perceived at once the vastpossibilities of this place as a hostage for escaped exiles. A warmspring, flowing winter and summer, sprang from the rocky hillside; aten-foot vein of coal cropped out from that same hill. Limestone rockpromised material for plaster; an extraordinary deposit of rock rich inmica promised windows. Put your hand on the window beside you. "

"Mica, " murmured Dave, as he took his hand away. 

"Mica, " repeated his host. "All our windows are double and made of mica. "

"Well, after facing many dangers, this exile and his master made their wayback to the land in which the Czar and his nobles have condemned manyhonest and good people to live as slaves because of their beliefs. He wentback to dream and to tell of his dreams to his friends. At first thesedoubted, but one by one they too began to dream. From that they took toplanning and preparing. All manner of seeds were gathered and hoarded. Clothing and food were saved. One night, twenty-eight of them disappeared. They have never returned; they are here. This is the work of their hands. We live, as you see, with all the material needs supplied. We have areindeer herd which supplies us clothing, milk and meat. This greenhousegives us the rest. "

"You are Communists?" said Dave. 

"We were Communists in theory, back in old Russia. Here we are Communistsin practice. "

"Why do you not go back to old Russia now?"

"What? Leave this for exile?" The man's face showed his astonishment. 

It was Dave's turn to be surprised. Could it be that this man and hiscompanions did not know that, for more than two years, the Communists hadbeen in power over the greater part of old Russia?

"Don't you know, " he said slowly, "that the Czar is dead, that hisgovernment has been overthrown, that the Communists hold sway in your landand all exiles have been called home?"

"What?" The man sank weakly to a seat, covering his face with his hands. 

"Why!" exclaimed Dave in astonishment. "Why don't you leap and shout forjoy? Your Communist theory has been put into practice. "

"And Russia? She must be in ruins!" He groaned miserably. 

"Not quite that bad, " smiled Dave, "though God knows it has been badenough. "

"Communism!" exclaimed the man springing up. "Communism will never do. Itdrives men to dry-rot. Here we have had Communism at its very best, agroup of friends, each doing the best for the whole group at all times, but we have not been happy. We have been of all men the most miserable. Each one of us would give a year of this for one week spent in honestcompetition for a livelihood with other men. 

"Competition! Competition! I cannot tell how it is, but I know it to be atruth now; honest competition is not only the life of trade, it is thelife of man and without it man will die of inactivity which comes wheninterest dies. 

"But my country, my poor Russia, my brave Russia! She will yet see hererror and build up a government like your own, a free government of thepeople, a government not without its faults, but ever striving towardperfection. She must do it!"

He sank back exhausted by this impassioned utterance. For some time he didnot move nor speak. At last he roused himself. 

"And now, my friend, " he said, "you in your great balloon will take ussomewhere, I am sure. "

"If we can get our engine started, " said Dave. 

"We will help you. "

At that moment Jarvis, who had wandered down the aisle, came stormingback. 

"'Oo's the two 'eathen that just went out the door?" he demanded. 

"Just some natives that came here and wished to stay, " smiled the Russian. "When they came, they had been pretty badly torn up by a polar bear. Wenursed them back to life and they have been so grateful for it that theyhave never left. "

"Good reason!" stormed Jarvis. "Gold! Gold! The City of Gold. "

"We have a little gold here, " smiled the Russian, "but precious littlegood it's ever been to us. "

"Now mind y'. I'm a tellin' y', " stormed Jarvis, striking his fiststogether, "them's no natural 'eathen. Them's two spies from far down thecoast. A polar bear me eye! An ice anchor it was that cut 'alf a ear off'nthe little one. Them's the lads that Dave and me 'ad the tussle with onthe submarine more'n a year ago. I tell you they're no natural 'eathen an'I 'ates to think what'll 'appen to 'em if I meets up with 'em again. "

Dave sprang to the door through which the men had just passed. They werenot to be seen. The incident was disturbing. There could be little doubtbut that Jarvis had identified the men as the same pair that had lockedthem in a prison made of walrus tusks the year before, and had fought withthem later on the submarine. Now if they had recognized Jarvis, what mightthey not do? He continued to think of this while the Russian showed themthrough the most wonderful greenhouse in all the world. 

"You see, " said their host, "we built this against the side of the cliff, at the point where the soft coal mine cropped out. We cut away enough ofthe coal to make room for a great stone furnace. From this furnace we ranheat tunnels of stone through the entire greenhouse. The work is all verysimple. Coal is mined and loaded on trucks of wood, run on wooden tracks. From there it is shoveled into the furnace. We ran stone troughs throughthe greenhouse connecting them to the warm spring. This furnishes waterfor use in our homes, and for irrigating the rich soil we have broughtfrom the tundra. At the same time, it keeps the air here sufficientlymoist. "

"What a garden of Eden!" exclaimed Dave. "And you would leave all itssafety and comfort to take a chance in the great disturbed world? Why willyou be so foolish?"

The man turned a look of compassion upon him. "You will never know why, because you have never known what it is to live without the push and pullof many human beings striving for mastery all about you. In awell-populated land, this would all be very wonderful. Here it is nothing. Nothing!"

As he spoke, the man bent over and opened a small box made of heavydriftwood. 

Having peered into its depth for a second, he uttered a sharp cry:

"The gold! It is gone!"

"Was there much?" asked Dave. 

"Around a hundredweight. Who could have taken it? Yesterday we would havegiven it away for a song. To-day, with hopes of deliverance at hand, it isindispensable. Who could the robbers be?"

"The 'eathen, the unnatural, bloody, bloomin' 'eathen, " exclaimed Jarvis. "Find them and you find the gold. "

The "unnatural 'eathen" were not to be found. Had the earth opened up andswallowed them, they could not have more completely vanished from theregion of the City of Gold. 

When a search far and wide had been made for them, with no results, attention was turned to the problem of a journey to other lands, for, evenrobbed of their gold as they were, these former exiles were eager toescape and to try their hand at making a living in more populated lands. 

Three days were spent in futile attempts to start that oriental engine. When this was given up, it was decided that they should inflate theballoon, await a favorable wind and try their fortunes at drifting back tothe land whence they came. 

Not one of them but knew the perils of such an undertaking. Should thewind shift, they might be carried out over the sea. On the other hand, they might be forced to make a landing in the heart of the vast, barrenlands, and in that case, they must surely starve. The balloon cabin wouldcarry them all, but there would be little room left for provisions. 

Not one of them hesitated. Boldest of them all was the beautiful girl whostuck close to Dave's side, watching his every move with big admiringeyes, and, at spare times, learning to speak bits of his language. 

The balloon was at last inflated. Provisions were loaded. The wind wasbeginning to shift. They would be off in a few hours. All were expectant. A tense nervousness gripped them, a sensation composed half of hope andhalf of despair. They were eating the evening meal in the common mess hallby the cliff when a sound utterly strange to the Russian's ears smote thesilent air. It was a thundering pop-pop-pop. 

Dave turned white. Jarvis sprang to his feet with a wild howl on hislips. 

"The 'eathen! The bloody, bloomin' 'eathen. It's the engine. "

He was right. It was the engine. It was thundering out its wild song ofpower and speed, and its voice was growing more distant. 

As they crowded from the mess cabin, they saw the balloon hanging inmidair. Watching they saw it move slowly southward. On the bridge by thecabin stood two small figures. 

"The 'eathen! The bloody, bloomin' 'eathen!" cried Jarvis. 

"We might have known, " groaned Dave. "They're oriental and so is theengine. "

CHAPTER XVII

KIDNAPPED

On entering the city, after leaving his cattle in safe keeping at thefarmyard, Johnny Thompson went directly to Red Cross headquarters toinquire for Mazie. 

"Mazie!" exclaimed the matron in amazement, "we thought she went with you. We have not seen her since you left. "

Johnny sank weakly into a chair. His head whirled. Mazie gone for fivedays! What must be her fate? In this city of opposing factions, with itsdens of radicals, thieves and murderers, and, above all, the gang of"yellow men" from the north, what chance could there be of ever seeingher? Yet he would! At least he would give his life in a search for her!

Hurriedly sketching to the nurse his plans for the refuge for homelessones and informing her of the whereabouts of the cattle and the remaininggold, he dashed from the room. Armed with his automatic, he went at onceto the heart of the most treachery-ridden city in the world. Where was heto search for her? He had not the remotest notion. Suddenly, thinking ofthe telegrams she meant to send to Hong Kong ordering rice and sweetpotatoes and of the visit she had meant to make to the owner of theunoccupied hotel, he decided to attempt to trace her steps at theseplaces. 

At the telephone station, the agent, referring to his reports, establishedthe fact that she had sent the telegrams. At the office of the owner ofthe hotel she was unknown. No American woman had been to him to rent thehotel. That much then was settled; somewhere between the telegraph officeand the hotel owner's place of business she had been spirited away. 

Johnny began tracing out the course she would probably have taken. Anarrow side street offered a short cut. Being familiar with the city andin a hurry, she would take that. Half way down this street, Johnny cameupon a familiar door. It was that of Wo Cheng, the Chinese costumer. Hehad had dealings with Wo Cheng during his sojourn in this city as asoldier. Here was a man he could trust. He paused by the door and gave theaccustomed signal of those other days. 

In answer to his rap, the door opened a crack. 

"Oo-we! Johnny!" grunted the Chinaman, opening the door, then closed itquickly as Johnny entered. 

"You come buy?" he rubbed his hands together. 

"No come buy?"

"Wanchee cum-show?"

"No wanchee cum show. No wanchee money. "

"Oo-we!" grunted the Chinaman again. 

Johnny's eyes were restlessly roving over the array of garments that hungon either side of a narrow aisle. Suddenly he uttered a low exclamationand sprang to a corner and examined a woman's dress. 

"Wo Cheng, " he demanded almost fiercely, "where you come buy this?"

"Oo-we!" squealed the Chinaman. "Can't tell mine, not savvy mine. "

"You woncha savvy!" Johnny hissed between tight set teeth. 

"Mebby can do, " murmured the Chinaman hurriedly. "No see. Mebby now see. See Jap man, this one, velly small Jap man. This one think mine. "

"Good, " said Johnny. "Now perhaps you can tell me what kind of a dress hetook away?"

"Mebby can do. " The man, fumbling among his garments, came upon a plain, Russian, peasant type of dress. 

"Take look, see, " he murmured. "One, two, three, allesame. "

"All right, you no speak see mine, savvy. "

"No speak, " murmured Wo Cheng. 

"Good-bye, " said Johnny bolting out of the door. 

"Mazie's dress, " he mumbled to himself. "They have transformed her into aRussian peasant girl for their safety, but where have they taken her?"

As he rounded the corner, an old familiar sound smote his ear. Therat-tat-tat of a machine gun. It was accompanied almost at once by anotherand yet another. 

"An uprising and a battle!" he muttered savagely. "Worse and worse. Whatchance has a fellow got? Do well enough if I escape the firing squad. "

 * * * * *

The two oriental spies in the balloon they had stolen from Dave Tower andJarvis were not as fortunate as in the first instance they seemed to be. There was practically no wind. The engine was slow in getting the bulkysausage under way. 

Suddenly as the watchers, with despair written on their faces, gazedskyward, they saw something slip from the cabin deck and drop like aplummet. A silvery thread appeared to follow it. 

"The anchor and the cable!" exclaimed Dave. "It's got away from them. Ifit catches--C'mon. "

He was away like a rocket. Uneven surface, slippery hills of snow meantnothing to him. He was racing for freedom from threatening years ofexile. 

Jarvis, followed by the Russians, came on more slowly. As they mounted alow hill they saw the cabin of the balloon give a sudden lunge. 

"She's caught!" panted Jarvis. "'Ere's 'opin' she 'olds. "

In another second, a groan of despair escaped his lips. It was true thatthe anchor had caught in a frozen bank of earth and was holding fast, butthe men were bending over the rail working with the upper end of the steelcable. If they could loosen it or file it, causing it to snap, no humanpower could bring them back. And if they got away with the balloon--. 

But after despair, came hope. There sounded the pop of an automatic. Sixshots came in quick succession. 

"Dave's a wonder with an automatic!" exclaimed Jarvis. 

The men worked on. Would they accomplish their task? Every person in thelittle group of watchers held his breath. 

Crack-crack-crack. The automatic spoke again. Doubtless Dave had moved toa position more directly under the cabin. 

"'E's got 'em! 'E's got 'em!" exulted Jarvis, throwing his cap in air. 

One of the Orientals was seen to waver, then to fall backward. The otherinstantly dropped from sight. 

"The windlass, " commanded Jarvis. "Some of you bring it up. We'll pull 'emdown alright, alright! We'll get the bloody, bloomin' 'eathen yet. "

A wooden windlass, made for bringing the balloon to earth in case ofstorm, was brought forward, while Dave and Jarvis watched for anyindication of further activity on the part of the robbers. 

Once the windlass was fastened to the bank by means of ice anchors, thetask of bringing down the balloon was a matter of moments. 

Two cowering wretches were found in one corner of the cabin. 

"I'm for 'aving an end to 'em at once and immediately, " stormed Jarvis. 

"No! No!" smiled Dave. "They're just the boys we want. They are going totell us why the engine won't go for us. "

"And if they do?"

"If they do, we'll leave them the greenhouse, coal mine, heating plant andall in exchange for that bit of information. "

Jarvis seemed quite content with any arrangement which promised to put afew thousand miles between him and the "bloody, bloomin' 'eathen. "

After the wound of the one who had been winged by Dave's automatic hadbeen dressed, Dave locked himself in the cabin with the yellow men. 

It took him three hours to secure the desired information, but in the endit came. 

The wounded Oriental showed him a secret eccentric bearing through whichthe crank shaft operated. When this bearing was properly adjusted theengine worked perfectly, when it was out of adjustment, it would not workat all. 

When Dave had operated the engine for an hour, he sent the prisoners backto the greenhouse, where they were released. The gold they had stolen wasfound hidden away in a locker of the balloon cabin. 

In another hour, the balloon, with all on board, gently urged on by thewind, ably assisted by the now perfect engine, was making good time towardVladivostok. 

 * * * * *

As Johnny Thompson hesitated at the head of the street, listening to therat-tat-tat of machine guns, uncertain which way to turn, he heard thedistant thunder of an engine in midair. Gazing away to the north, he saw adirigible balloon circling in search of a likely lighting place. 

"I wonder which faction that bird belongs to?" he murmured. 

If he had but known the truth, a little ray of hope would have pierced thegloom of his leaden sky, for this balloon was none other than the one hehad seen carry his good friends, Dave and Jarvis, away from the mines, some weeks before. They had made the journey in safety. Twice they hadbeen obliged to land to escape the fury of a storm. Wild reindeer had madeup for the scantiness of their food supply. Now they were about to alightand enter the city of many mysteries. 

Pant had already entered. The clan was gathering, gathering for stirringevents, for the development of new mysteries and the solving of old ones. Soon, all unknown to one another, Dave and Jarvis, Pant, Johnny Thompson, Cio-Cio-San, and Mazie would be in the same city--a city seething in thetumult of revolt. 

CHAPTER XVIII

UNDER MACHINE-GUN FIRE

By the time Johnny had left the den of Wo Cheng, night had come down uponthe city. It was by the light of a golden moon that he saw the balloonhanging in the sky. The balloon, however, interested him little. He wasthinking only of Mazie. He had decided to make his way to a corner of thecity occupied by Japanese people of doubtful character. To do this he mustleave the street he was in and, after turning to his right, go straightahead for ten blocks. 

He was not long in discovering that the carrying out of his plans wouldput him in the greatest danger. The cross-street was jammed with Russianswho fled from the raking fire of machine guns set somewhere at the head ofthat street. Johnny could still hear their rat-tat and the sing ofbullets. Men, women and children ran through the street. An aged peasantwoman, her face streaming with blood, toppled toward him, then fell. Hesprang to assist her, but two of her own people came to her aid. 

"What's the rumpus?" He hazarded the question in English. 

"Nobody knows, " said a clean-faced young Russian. "It's the Japs shooting. Can't tell why. Probably just nervous. Nothing was done against them, though St. Christopher knows it's plenty we'd like to do. They want thispeninsula, and if keeping us fighting among ourselves will give it tothem, they'll win it. "

"I've seen their spies two thousand miles from the last sign ofcivilization. "

"They are everywhere, like fleas. "

"I've got to get at some of them. Think they kidnapped a friend of mine, "said Johnny. "But how can I get past this?"

"I know a closed private alley. Want to try that?"

"I'll try anything. "

"Come. "

The man led the way half the distance back to Wo Cheng's door, thensuddenly opened a door in a wall. 

"See. Through there. "

He closed the door behind Johnny. Johnny looked about. Straight on beforehim lay a path, to the right of which was a garden. At the end of the pathwas another door. 

"Must open on another street, " he muttered to himself. "Touchy sort ofbusiness this prowling through a strange city at night with a big row onfoot. Can't be helped though. "

He reached the door only to find it locked. The wall was not high. Agnarled pear tree offered him a lift to the top. He had soon scaled it, and was looking up and down the narrow street that ran on the other side. 

"Not a soul in sight, " he whispered. 

He listened for a second. The rattle of machine-gun fire had ceased. Nowand again there came the crack of a rifle or automatic. 

Johnny slipped off the wall. His feet had hardly touched ground when ashot rang out and a bullet sang past him. Dodging into the deep-setdoorway, he whipped out his automatic and waited. Footsteps wereapproaching. 

"Jig's up, " he muttered. "Worse luck for it!"

His hands fumbled at the door. In a second there came a dull thud on theother side of it. He had pushed his automatic through a latch-stringopening. 

"No use getting caught armed, " was his mental comment. 

In another moment the Japanese military police were upon him. In vain hetold them that he was an American, in vain presented his papers. They hadseen him climb over the wall; that was enough. Many Russian radicals spokeEnglish very well, and, as for papers, they could be forged. Besides, werethere not many American radicals, soldiers of fortune, here assisting inthe attempt to overthrow their rule. He should go to prison at once, and"To-morrow!" There was something so sinister about the way they said that"to-morrow" that it sent the cold chills racing down his spine. 

Down one narrow street, then another and another they went until, eventually, they came to a frowning stone-wall with an iron-grating setdeep in an arched ante-room. Through this doorway he was thrust and thelock clanged behind him. 

He was not alone. He had hardly taken a step before he stumbled upon aprone form. Many men and some women were sprawled about on the stonefloor. 

"Amerikaner, " came in a shrill whisper. "Lie down here. "

Johnny obeyed. 

"Got you, did they, " said the voice with a Russian accent. 

"Yes, and for what?" said Johnny. 

"In this land we do not ask for what. It is enough that we are got. "

"What's to-morrow?" asked Johnny suddenly. 

"To-morrow we will be shot. "

"That's cheerful, " said Johnny. "What time?"

"Before dawn. "

"That's rotten soon, " said Johnny. "I don't think I'll stay to see it. "

"I guess you will, " said the stranger. 

There seemed nothing more to be said, so the two new-found friends laythere in silence. Each was busy with his own thoughts. Johnny's weremostly of Mazie and of the thousands of starving children they had hopedto aid. 

"It's sure rotten luck, " he ejaculated at last. 

Just at that moment the great iron gate was heard to creak on its hinges. Other wretches were being pitched inside to await their doom. 

The door was so deeply set in the wall that nothing could be seen of thenewly arrived prisoners. 

As Johnny lay wondering what they were like, he heard a shrill whisper:

"Johnny! Johnny Thompson!"

"Here!" he whispered back. 

There were sounds of a person crawling toward him, the curse of a Russianwho had been disturbed in what was probably his last sleep; then Johnny'slips uttered a low exclamation. He had caught the dull gleam of a goldenball of fire. 

"Pant, " he murmured. 

"It's me, Johnny. " The boy's hand touched him. 

Johnny was dumfounded. "How'd they get you?"

"Beaned one of them cops, I did. Saw 'em glom onto you. Wanted t' horn inwith you. "

"Guess you horned in once too often, " said Johnny huskily. "This is adeath-watch we're keeping, and it's for ourselves. "

"We better blow the coop then. "

"If we can. "

"We can. " Pant's tone was decided and convincing. 

For some time after that the two boys spoke of their experiences sincelast they met. 

"You see, I got it cached out yonder three hills and a hike outside thisburg. She'll tip the beam at a century weight and a half, maybe more. Allpure gold, you bet. And it's all for the little Russian kids, every bit. Iain't held back a copper. "

Johnny, knowing that Pant was speaking of the gold he had taken from MineNo. 3 and had sledded nearly three thousand miles to Vladivostok at riskof his life, could only grip his hand and swallow hard. 

"Gee!" said Pant, when Johnny had finished his story. "We'll have to findthat Mazie of yours, and quick. But we've got to get out of here first. "

He was ready with his plans after a moment's thought. Prisoners were beingbrought in every ten or fifteen minutes. There were no lights in theprison and the military police carried none. The place was pitch dark. Hedid not say that he could see well enough, but, from past experiences, Johnny knew that he could. They would creep close to the iron gate and, when it was opened to admit others, they would crawl out on hands andknees. 

"And if luck's bad, then this, " said Pant, slipping a small dagger intoJohnny's hand. 

"You got one, too?"

"Sure. "

"All right. "

They crept close to the gate and waited. Five minutes passed. Ten minutesof dreadful silence went by with never an approaching footstep. Johnny'sheart beat painfully. What if the last poor victim had been brought toawait his doom? Dawn would be breaking, and then the firing squad. Coldperspiration beaded his forehead. 

But hold! there came again the shuffle of feet. A lone prisoner was beingbrought in. 

"Now!" came in a faint whisper. A steady hand gripped his arm. He felthimself led forward. A foot scraped his knee. It was the incomingprisoner. He uttered no sound. 

They were now on the outside of the gate. Flattening themselves againstthe wall, not daring to breathe, they waited. 

Turning, the police clicked their heels and marched away. Outside, beforethe open anteway, marched a solitary guard. Once they were past him, theywere safe. 

Fortune favored them. The man hazarded a moment off duty to step into adoor for a cup of coffee. In that moment, they were away. 

"Easy, " said Pant. "Should have brought your friend, the Roosian. "

"He wouldn't come, " said Johnny sorrowfully. "Said it wasn't any use. "

"All we got to do's keep hid till mornin'. "

They escaped from the alley through a gate into a garden, and there, in ashed against the side of a brick building, they waited for the morning. 

As they lay there half awake, there came to Johnny's ears the words of aridiculous popular song of other days:

 "Oh, Johnny! Oh, Johnny! How you come on, Oh, Johnny! Oh, Johnny! How you come on!"

"Sounds like Mazie, " whispered Johnny, starting to his feet. "It _is_Mazie. They've got her hid up there!"

Pant pulled him back to earth. "If it's Mazie, they've got men watchin'. No good to spill the beans. To-morrow night we'll make up a bunch an' git'em. "

Realizing the wisdom of these words, Johnny quieted his mad desire to rushthe place at once, and sat down. 

Just as the first red streaks striped the sky, there came a loud volley ofshots. 

Johnny plugged his ears and shivered. Perhaps they were executing theprisoners. Who could tell?

CHAPTER XIX

JOHNNY GOES INTO ACTION

The first precaution taken by Johnny and Pant, after leaving the shed inthe back garden, was to hasten to the water-front where their friends, therough and ready mining gang, were still living in a cabin near thegasoline schooner. Selecting eight of these, Johnny detailed them to workin two shifts of four each, to lurk about the building where Mazie wasbeing confined. They were instructed to guard every exit to the place, and, if an attempt was made by the kidnappers to change base, to put up afight and, if possible, release Mazie. 

Johnny realized that time was precious, that not one moment must be lostin going to the rescue of his girl-pal, but in this land of many soldiersand little law it was necessary to move with caution. When darkness came, with his gang of miners and a few other hardy fellows, he could rush theplace and bring Mazie away without being caught in the hopelesslyentangled net of Russian law. 

Pant appeared to have lost all interest in the case. He went prowlingalong the water-front, peering into every junk-shop he came to. What hefinally pounced upon and carried away, after tossing the shopkeeper acoin, amused Johnny greatly. It was a bamboo pole, like a fishing-poleonly much larger. He estimated it to be at least five inches across thebase. 

"Now what in time does he want of that?" Johnny asked himself. 

Arrived at the Red Cross station, Pant disappeared with his pole inside anold shed that flanked the Red Cross building. Johnny saw little more ofhim that day. Pant went out after lunch to return with a cheaplooking-glass and a glass cutter. There was an amused grin lurking abouthis lips as Johnny stared at him, but he said nothing; only returned tohis shed and his mysterious labors. 

As darkness fell, the clan gathered. The miners in full force andvariously armed with rifles, automatics, knives and pick-axes came in fromthe water-front. Pant came out from his hiding. He carried on his back abulky sack which did not appear to weigh him down greatly. It gave forth ahollow rattle as he walked. 

"Sounds like skulls, " said one miner with a superstitious shudder. 

The little band received a welcome shock as they rounded the corner of thestreet by the cathedral. They chanced to be beneath a flickeringstreet-lamp when some one shouted:

"Hello there, 'ere's the gang!"

It was Jarvis and Dave Tower. Having alighted from the balloon andprocured for their exiled friends comfortable quarters in a place ofrefuge, they had gone out in search of Johnny Thompson, and here they hadfound him. 

"What's up?" demanded Dave. 

Johnny told him the situation in as few words as possible, ending, "Youwant in on it?"

"Yer jolly right, " exclaimed Jarvis, "and 'ere's 'ate to the bloomin''eathen!"

So, strengthened by two good men, the party moved cautiously forward untilthey were only one block from their destination. 

"Split up into two sections, " commanded Johnny in a whisper. "One partyunder Dave go up street beyond the place, the other under Jarvis stay downstreet. Pant and I will drop back into the garden and try to establishconnection with the prisoner. We'll get the general lay of things andreport. If a shot is fired, that will be a signal to rush the place. "

They were away. Creeping stealthily forward, they entered the gate to thegarden. Then, skulking along the wall, they made their way toward the shedwhere they had spent part of the previous night. Twice the hollow thingsin Pant's sack rattled ominously. 

"Keep that thing quiet, can't you?" snapped Johnny. "What y' got it for, anyway?"

"Show you in a minute, " whispered Pant. 

So they crept on toward the goal. No lights shone from these back windows. The place was dark as a tomb. Somewhere in the distance a clock slowlychimed the hour. A shiver ran over Johnny's body. Things would happensoon. 

"All I ask is five minutes; five minutes, that's all, " whispered Pant, ashe lowered his sack cautiously to the ground and unlaced its top. 

Dimly through the darkness Johnny could see him draw several long objectsfrom the bag. When the bag was empty, he began setting these objects endto end. Evidently they were fitted with sockets, for, once they werejoined together, they stuck in place. He soon had them all together. Johnny surmised that this was the reconstructed bamboo pole with allobstructing joints taken out; but what Pant meant to do with it, he couldnot even guess. He watched with impatient curiosity. 

"A speaking tube, " he whispered at last. "It's a good idea. "

"Mebby; but that ain't it, " breathed Pant. 

"Well, whatever it is, be quick about it. Somebody out front may spill thebeans any time. If the military police rush the boys, the game's up. "

Pant paid no attention. His movements were as steady and cautious as a catstalking a robin. 

"Now, I guess we're about ready, " he murmured. "Be prepared for a dash. There's stairs to the right. I may start something. " His words were shortand quick. Evidently his heart was giving him trouble. 

"All right, " Johnny stood on tip-toes in his agitation. 

Suddenly Pant reared his tube in air. Then, to Johnny's utterastonishment, he dropped on one knee and peered into an opening at oneside of it. 

"A periscope!" whispered Johnny. "But what can you see in the dark?"

For a moment Pant did not answer. His breath came in little gasps. 

"She's there, " he whispered. "She's tied. There's terror in her eyes. There's something crawling on the floor. Can't make it out. We gotta getup there quick. "

All at once a shot rang out. It came from the window. The tinkle of brokenglass sliding down the bamboo tube told that the periscope was a wreck. 

"Periscope's done for. They saw, " whispered Pant. "Now for it. Up thestairs. They gave our signal. Boys will rush the place from the front. C'mon!"

They were off like a flash. Up the stairs they bounded. A door obstructedtheir way. Johnny's shoulder did for that. 

Crashing into the room they found a candle flaring. Two persons werestruggling to free themselves from imitation dragon costumes. It had beenthese who frightened Mazie. 

"Snap dragon!" exclaimed Johnny, seizing one of the beasts by the tail, and sending him crashing through the panels of a door. 

"Snap dragon!" He sent the other through the window to the ground below. 

"I'll teach you!" He glared about him for an instant. Then his eyes fellon Mazie. Without attempting to free her, he gathered her into his armsand fairly hurled her through the door where he and Pant had entered. Thenhe took his stand in front of it. 

He was not a moment too soon, for now the place was swarming with littleyellow men. In the light of the candle, their faces seemed hideouslydistorted with hate. At once Johnny went into action. His right took a manunder the chin. No sound came from him save a dull thud. A second wentjibbering over the window-sill. A third crashed against the plaster wall. Pant, too, was busy. Everywhere at once, his wicked little dagger gleamed. But, suddenly, two of the strongest sprang at him, bearing him to thefloor. 

Leaping at these, Johnny gripped them by their collars and sent themcrashing together. His breath was coming in hoarse gasps. He could standlittle more of this. Where were the boys?

As if in answer, there came the crash of arms on a door and Jarvis burstinto the room. He was followed by the whole gang. 

"Ow-ee! Ow-ee!" squealed the yellow men. "The white devils!"

In another moment the room was cleared of fighters. Only three of theenemy remained. They were well past moving. 

"Pitch 'em after 'em, " roared Johnny. "Tell the cowards to carry awaytheir wounded. "

The wounded men were sent sliding down the stairs. 

"Now then, git out. Scatter. I never saw any of you before. See!"

There was a roar of understanding from the men. Then they "faded. "

Leaping to the back stairway, Johnny picked Mazie up in his arms andcarried her down to the garden. Here he cut the bands that held her handsand feet. 

"Can you walk?"

"Yes. "

"C'mon then. Gotta beat it. "

They were away like a shot. 

A half-hour later they were joking over a cup of chocolate and a plate ofsweet biscuits in the Red Cross canteen. Mazie was still dressed as aRussian peasant girl. 

"I say, Mazie!" exclaimed Johnny. "You make a jolly fine-lookingpeasant!"

"Thanks!" said Mazie. "But if that's the way they treat peasant girls, Iprefer to be an American. "

"What did they do to you?"

"Nothing, only tried to frighten me into telling where the gold was. It'snot so much what they did as what they would have done. " She shivered. 

"Did they get any of the gold?"

"Not an ounce. It's all stowed away here at the Red Cross. "

"Good! Then we'll have our haven of refuge yet. "

"If we live. "

"And we will. "

They lapsed into a long silence, each thinking many thoughts. 

CHAPTER XX

SOME MYSTERIES UNCOVERED

The days that followed were busy ones for Johnny Thompson and Mazie. Thetumult in the city had died away. There was a chance for work. Feed mustbe bought for the cattle from Mongolia; the hotel was to be rented. Through the good services of the Red Cross, the most needy of the refugeeswere to be assembled, and, when the ship from China arrived, the work ofunloading was to be directed. 

Several busy days had passed before Johnny had time to think of looking uphis gang. At this moment he was seated at the head of a seemingly endlesstable on each side of which was an array of pinch-faced but happychildren. 

When he started out to find the men the first one he came upon was DaveTower. Dave began telling him of the strange case of the professor who hadbeen with the Orientals at the mines, and had drifted north with them inthe balloon. 

"His mind seems all right now and he is well as any man could be, but heeither cannot or will not tell us a thing of his life with the Orientalsup there at the mines, " said Dave. "There are some things we would alllike to know. Strange case, I'd call it. "

"Yes, but there have been stranger. Say!" Johnny slapped him on theshoulder. "You bring him around to headquarters to-night. I've got anidea. "

"Righto. We'll be there. So long till then. "

When Dave arrived with the professor, he found that the stage had been setfor a moving-picture show. He was glad of that; it had been months sincehe had seen one. He was hardly prepared, however, for the type of show itwas to be. 

The room was darkened. Beside him, sat the professor. There came thepeculiar snap-snap of the carbons as the power came on. The next instant adazzling light fell upon the screen, and out into that light there moved ahalf-score of little yellow men. Some were working industriously at amachine which cut cubes of earth from the bank before them. Others werecarrying the cubes away and piling them. 

Professor Todd moved uneasily. He put his hands to his eyes, as if to shutout the scene. Then unexpectedly he cried out, as if in pain:

"My head! My head! He struck me. "

"Who struck you?"

Dave looked about. There was no one near them. 

"The yellow man; he struck me, " cried the professor. Then he covered hisface with his hands and his body swayed back and forth with suppressedemotion. 

Johnny moved silently toward them. 

"It's coming back to him. When he regains control of himself, he will knoweverything. It was the flash of light and the familiar scene that did it. Of course, you know that is the film he sent out to us when he was aprisoner in the mine. "

What Johnny said was quite true. When the man was again in the coolout-of-doors, he was able to give a full account of his life with theOrientals. They had made him prisoner because they feared to have him atlarge. Other white men might appear, as indeed they had, and he mightreveal their plans. He had known in a vague sort of way that somemysterious deathtrap had been set in Mine No. 1, and when, through a crackin the wall to his prison, he saw the white men arrive, he determined toattempt to warn them. This he did by singing songs to the Orientals and, at the same time, making phonographic records to be sent rolling down thehill later. 

"But you don't actually know how Frank Langlois was killed?" There wasdisappointment in Dave's tone. 

"No, I do not, " said the professor. 

"Oh, as to that, " said Johnny. "Didn't Pant tell you?"

"Pant? I haven't seen Pant since the fight to save Mazie. "

"Isn't he with the bunch?"

"No--nor hasn't been. Jarvis says his goggles were smashed in the fight. Says he saw him without them. No one's seen him since. "

"You don't think they got him?"

"Not Pant. He can't be got, not by a mere band of Orientals. But what'sthis he told you about Langlois?"

"Oh! He stayed up there, you know. He went into Mine No. 1 and prowledround a bit. Found where the yellow bunch had run a high-tension insulatedwire through a crevice in the rock to the head of that pool into whichLanglois drove his pick. They ran a second wire to the base of the pooland connected the two to a heavy battery circuit. They had discovered thatthe pool rested upon a chalk rock which was good insulation. There was, therefore, no ground to it. But the damp spot on which Langlois wasstanding when he swung the pick was grounded. The minute he struck thepool the whole current passed through his body. "

"Electrocuted!"

"Yes. "

"Well, that's settled, " said Dave, after a moment's reflection. "Now whatabout Pant? Where is he?"

"Let's go ask the gang. "

In a little cabin close to the water-front, they found the gang. They wereall there but Pant. 

"Where's Pant?" asked Johnny. 

"On his way to America, " said one of the men. "Saw him on the steamer nota half hour ago. He told me to tell you he'd left the gold for you up atthe Red Cross. "

"Have his goggles on?"

"Nope. "

"And his eyes?" The men, leaning forward eagerly, listened for the answerto this question. 

"Steamer was pullin' out; I was too far away to see 'em. "

"Oh!" The men sank back in disgust. 

"As for that, " said Jarvis, "I seen 'im plain enough the night of thescrap. 'E'd 'ad 'is goggles smashed to bits. I saw 'is eyes plain as I seeyours. "

The men leaned forward again. 

"An', " Jarvis went on, "an' 'ope I may die for it, if 'e ain't got onepanther eye. I saw the pupil of it shut up in the light just like acat's. "

"You'll die for it, or say you're wrong, anyway, about the panther part, "smiled Johnny. 

"D' y' mean to say I lied?" demanded Jarvis hotly. 

"Not exactly that. You saw what you expected to see, that's all. As far asthe panther part is concerned, you're dead wrong. "

All eyes were now turned on Johnny. 

"You see, " he smiled, "the pupil of a panther's eye does not contract to aline in the light as a house cat's does. It contracts to a smaller circle, just as yours and mine do. Go consult your encyclopedia. Ask any hunter ofbig game, or keeper of a zoo, and he'll tell you that I'm right. "

The laugh was plainly on Jarvis, and he got it from everyone. 

"All the same, " he maintained stoutly, "that don't prove that Pant ain'tgot a cat's eye, an' you all know 'e 'as or 'e's a devil. 'E can see inthe dark. "

There was no disputing this point, and there the argument dropped. 

Two months later, having got the haven of refuge well established andturned over to the management of the Red Cross, Johnny and Mazie were on aPacific liner bound for America. Johnny might return at some future timeto the Seven Mines, but for the present he had had quite enough ofRussia. 

The gang were all on board. With Dave went two persons--the beautifulyoung exiled Russian girl and her mother. 

As the steamer lost the last glimpse of land, Johnny drew from his pocketa wireless message he had received that morning. It read:

"Come over. Get in on something good. Secret Service and a three-ringcircus, Pant. "

"Secret Service and a three-ring circus, " repeated Johnny. "Sounds prettygood. Worth looking up. Pant's a queer one. Bet he's found somethingdifferent and mysterious. I'll bet on that. "

He had. But this story must be told in our next volume.