
_ _ _____7_
_
_
_
_
_


T
.1 J


_
_
Mystery Stories for Boys
_
Triple Spies
By _
ROY ]. SNELL


The Reilly 8: Lee C0.
Chicago
_
_


CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I THE DEN or DISGUISES . . . . . . . . . . 7
II THE MYSTERIOUS RUSSIAN . . . . . . . 22
III TREACHERY OUT or THE NIGHT. . . 33
IV A NARROW ESCAPE . . . . . ._ . . . . . . . 54
V “ FRIEND? ENEMY? ” . . . . . . . . . . 63
v1 " Ndw 1 SHALL KILL You " .... .. 75
VII SAVED FROM THE Mon . . . . . . . . . . . 88
VIII WHEN AN EsKIMo BECOMES A JAP 97
IX JoHNNY’s FREE-F0R-ALL . . . . . . . . 107
X THE JAP GIRL IN PERIL . . . . . . . . . 121
XI A FACE IN THE NIGHT . . . . . . . . . . . 135
XII " GET Tim MAN " ........... . . 147
XIII BACK T0 OLD CHICAGO . . . . . . . . . . . 155
XIV THE MYSTERY OF THE CHICAGO
XV
RIVER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 164
THE CAT CRY 01-‘ THE UNDERWORLD 176


/
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
XVI C10-C10-SAN BETRAYED . . . . . . . . . 192
XVII A‘THREE-CORNERED BATTLE . . . . . . 202
XVIII HANADA’S SECRET . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211
XIX “ I SEEN IT — A SUBMARINE! ”. . . 219
XX AT THE BOTTOM OF THE RIVER. . . . 230
XXI THE OWNER OF THE DIAMONDS. . . 240
L


TRIPLE SPIES
CHAPTER I
THE DEN OF DISGUISES
As Johnny Thompson stood in the dark door-
way of the gray stone court—yard he shivered.
He was not cold, though this was Siberia—
Vladivosto1<——- and a late winter night. But he
was excited.
Before him, slipping, sliding, rolling over and
over on the hard packed snow of the narrow
street, two men were gripped in a life and death
struggle. They had been struggling thus for
ﬁve minutes, each striving for the upper hand.
The clock in the Greek Catholic church across
the way told Johnny how long they had fought.
He had been an accidental and entirely dis-
interested witness. He knew neither of the men;
he had merely happened along just when the row
began, and had lingered in the shadows to see
7
p


The Den. of Disgmlses 9
now held the knife discreetly behind his back.
Yes, Johnny trembled. There was a reason
for that. The tall, slender man had gained the
upper hand. He was stretched across the prone
form of his antagonist, his slim, horny hands
even now gliding toward the other’s throat.
And, right there, Johnny had decided to draw
the line. He was not going to allow himself to
witness the strangling of a man. That wasn’t
his idea of ﬁghting. He would end the ﬁght,
even at the expense of being mussed up a bit
himself, or having certain of his cherished plans
interfered with by being dragged before a
“ Provo ” as witness or participant.
He was counting in a half-audible whisper,
“Forty-one, forty-two, forty-three.” It was a
way he had when something big was about to
happen. The hand of the slender man was at
the second button on the other’s rough coat when
Johnny reached ﬁfty. At sixty it had come to
the top button. At sixty~ﬁve his long ﬁnger-tips
were doubling in for the fatal, vice-like grip.
Noiselessly, Johnny laid the knife on a cross bar
of the door. Knives were too deadly. ]ohnny’s
“ wallop ” was quite enough; more than enough,


The Den of Disguises 11
moment before had been the under dog. He was
followed closely by another runner, but not his
antagonist in the street ﬁght. This man was a
Japanese; and Johnny saw to his surprise that
the Jap did not wear the uniform of the military
police; in fact, not any uniform at all.
“ Evidently, that stubby Russian with the
queer chin is wanted for something,” Johnny
muttered. “ I wonder what. Anyway, I’ve got
his knife.” _
At that he tucked the weapon beneath his
squirrel-lined coat and, dropping out of his cor-
ner, went cautiously on his way.
So eager was he to attend to other matters
that the episode of the street ﬁght was soon for-
gotten. Dodging aroun_d this corner, then that,
giving a wide berth to a group of American non-
coms, dashing off a hasty salute to three Japa-
nese ofﬁcers, he at last turned up a narrow alley,
and, with a sigh of relief, gave three sharp raps,
then a mufﬁed one, at a door half hidden in the
gloom.
The door opened a crack, and a pair of squint
eyes studied him cautiously.
“ Ow! ” said the yellow man, opening the door
A‘


12 Triple Spies
wider, and then closing it almost before Johnny
could crowd himself inside.
To one coming from the outer air, the reek-
ing atmosphere within this low ceilinged, nar-
row room was stiﬂing. There was a blend of
vile odors; opium smoke, not too ancient in
origin, mixed with smells of cooking, while an
ill-deﬁned but all-pervading odor permeated the
place; such an odor as one ﬁnds in a tailor’s
repair shop, or in the place of a dealer in second-
hand clothing.
Second~hand clothing, that was Wo Cheng’s
line. But it was a rather unusual shop he kept.
Being a Chinaman, he could adapt himself to
circumstances, at least within his own realm,
which was clothes. His establishment had grown
up out of the grim necessity and dire pressure
of war. Not that the pressure was on his own
person; far from that. Somewhere back in China
this crafty fellow was accumulating a fortune.
He was making it in this dim, taper-lighted,
secret shop, opening off an alley in Vladivostok.
In these times of shifting scenes, when the
rich of to-day were the poor of to-morrow, or
at least were under the necessity of feigning
....-J


The Den of Disguises 13
poverty, there were many people who wished
to change their station in life, and that very
quickly. It was W0 Cheng’s business to help
them make this change. Many a Russian noble
had sought this noisome shop to exchange his
“ purple and ﬁne linen ” for very humble garb,
and just what he took from the pockets of one
and put in the pockets of the other suit, W0
Cheng had a way of guessing, though he appeared
not to see at all.
Johnny had known W0 Cheng for some time.
He had discovered his shop by accident when
out scouting for billets for American soldiers.
He had later assisted in protecting the place from
a raid by Japanese military police.
“You wanchee somsling? ” The Oriental
grinned, as Johnny seated himself cross-legged
on a grass mat.
“ Yep,” Johnny grinned in return, “ wanchee
change.” He gripped the lapel of his blouse,
as if he would remove it and exchange for
another.
“You wanchee clange? ” The Chinaman
squinted at him with an air of incredulity.
Then a light of understanding seemed to over-


14 Triple Spies
spread his face. “ Ow! ” he exclaimed, “ no can
do, Mellican ofﬁcer, not any. No can do.”
“ Wo Cheng, you no savvy,” answered Johnny,
glancing about at the tiers of costumes which
hung on either side of the wall.
“ Savvy! Savvy! ” exclaimed W0 Cheng,
bounding away to return with the uniform of
an American private. “Ofﬁcer, all same,” he
exclaimed. “ No can do.”
“ No good,” said Johnny, starting up. “ You
no savvy. Mebby you no wanchee savvy. No
wanchee uniform. Wanchee clothes, fur, fur,
plenty warm, you savvy? Go north, north, cold,
savvy? "
“Ow! ” exclaimed the Chinaman, scratching
his head.
“W0 Cheng!” said Johnny solemnly, “long
time my see you. Allatime, my see you. Not
speak American Major; not speak Japanese
police.”
W0 Cheng shivered.
“Now,” said Johnny, “my come buy.”
“Ow!” grunted Wo Cheng, ducking from
sight and reappearing quickly with a great coat
of real seal, trimmed with sea otter, a triﬂe which
___ L


The Den of Disguises 15
had cost some noble of other days a king’s
ransom.
“ No wanchee,” Johnny shook his head.
“ Ow! ” W0 Cheng shook his head incredu-
lously. This was his rarest offering. “ You no
got cumshaw, money?” he grinned. “ All wite,
my say.”
“ No wanchee my,” Johnny repeated.
The Chinaman took the garment away, and
returned with a similar one, less pretentious.
This, too, was waved aside.
By this time Johnny had become impatient.
Time was passing. A special train was to go
north at four o’clock. It was going for reindeer
meat, rations for the regiment that was
Johnny’s, or, at least, had been Johnny’s. He
could catch a ride on that train. A ﬁve hun-
dred mile lift on a three thousand mile jaunt
was not to be missed just because this Chink
was something of a blockhead.
Pushing the proprietor gently to one side,
Johnny made his way toward the back of the
room. Scrutinizing the hangers as he went, and
giving them an occasional ﬂing here and there,
as some garment caught his eye, he came pres-
8


16 Triple Spies
ently upon a solid square yard of fur. With
a grunt of satisfaction, he dragged one of the
garments from its place and held it before the
ﬂickering yellow taper.
The thing was shaped like a middy-blouse,
only a little longer and it had a hood attached.
It was made of the gray squirrel skins of Siberia,
and was trimmed with wolf’s skin. As Johnny
held it against his body, it reached to his knees.
It was, in fact, a parka, such as is worn by the
Eskimos of Alaska and the Chukches, aborigines
of North Siberia.
One by one, Johnny dragged similar garments
from their hangers. Coming at last upon one
made of the brown summer skins of reindeer,
and trimmed with wolverine, he seemed satis-
ﬁed, for, tossing the others into a pile, he had
drawn off his blouse and was about to throw
the parka over his head, when something fell
with a jangling rattle to the ﬂoor.
“ O-o-ee! ” grunted the Chnaman, as he stared
at the thing. It was the knife which had be-
longed to the Russian of the broad shoulders
and sharp chin. As Johnny’s eyes fell upon it
now, he realized that it was an altogether un
ﬁn i 3


The Den of Dvlsgu/Lses 17
usual weapon. The blade was of blue steel, and
from its ring it appeared to be exceptionally well
tempered. The handle was of strangely. carved
ivory.
Quickly thrusting the knife beneath his belt,
Johnny again took up the parka. This time, as
he drew the garment down over his head, he
appeared to experience considerable difﬁculty in
getting his left arm into the sleeve.‘ This task
accomplished, he stretched himself this way and
that. He smoothed down the fur thoughtfully,
pulled the hood about his ears, and back again,
twisted himself about to test the ﬁt, then, with
a sigh of content, turned to examine a pile of
fur trousers. _
At that instant there came a low rap at the
door—three raps, to be accurate—then a
mufﬂed thud. _
Johnny started. Someone wanted to enter.
He was not exactly in a condition to be seen,
especially if the person should prove to be an
American ofﬁcer. His fur parka, topping those
khaki trousers and puttees of his, would seem
at least to tell a tale, and might complicate mat-
ters considerably. Quickly seizing his blouse,


18 Triple Spies
he crowded his way far back into the depths of
a furry mass of long coats.
“Wo Cheng!” he whispered, “my wanchee
you keep mouth shut. Allatime shut!”
“ O-o-ee,” grunted the Chinaman.
The next moment ‘he had opened the door a
crack.
_ The squint eyes of the Chinaman surveyed
the person without for a long time, so long, in
fact, that Johnny began to wonder what sort
of person the newcomer could be. W0 Cheng
was keen of wit. To many he refused entrance.
But he was also a keen trader. All manner of
men and women came to him; some for a perma-
nent change of costume, some for a night’s ex-
change only. Peasants, grown suddenly and
strangely rich, bearing passports and tickets for
other lands, came to buy the cast-off ﬁnery of
the one time nobility. Russian, Iapanese, Amer-
ican soldiers and ofﬁcers came to W0 Cheng for
a change, most of them for a single twelve hours,
that they might revel in places forbidden to men
in uniform. But some came for a permanent
change. W0 Cheng never inquired why. He
asked only “ Cumshaw, money,” and got it.
.__L


The Den of Disguises 19
Was this newcomer Russian, Japanese, China-
man or American?
The door at last opened half way, then closed
quickly. The person who stood blinking in the
light was not a man, but a woman, a short and
slim young woman, with the dark round face
of a Japanese.
“ You come buy?” solicited Wo Cheng.
For answer, the woman drew off her outer
garment of some strange wool texture and
trimmed with ermine. Then, as if it were an
everyday occurrence, she stepped out of her rich
silk gown, and stood there in a suit of deep purple
pajamas.
She then stared about the place until her eyes
reached the fur garments which Johnny had re-
cently examined. With a laugh and a spring,
lithe as a panther, she seized upon one of these,
then discarding it with a ﬂing, delved deeper
until she came upon some smaller garments.
which might better ﬁt her slight form. Com-
paring for a moment one of squirrel skin with
one of fawn skin, she ﬁnally laid aside the lat-
ter. Then she attacked the pile of fur trou-
sers. At the bottom she came upon some short
A


The Den of Disguises 21
at Khabarask, ﬁve hundred miles north, let alone
Japanese women; Johnny knew that.
But the door had closed. The American
looked at his watch. It was one o’clock. The
train went at four. He must hurry.
He was about to move out from among the
furs, when again there came a rap, this time
loud and insistent, as if coming from one who
was accustomed to be obeyed.
“ American ofﬁcer! ” Johnny stiﬂed a groan,
as he slid back into hiding.
“ W0 Cheng! ” he cautioned again in a whis-
per, “ my wanchee you keep mouth shut; you
savvy?”
“ O-o-ee,” mumbled W0 Cheng, his hand on
the latch.


CHAPTER II
THE MYSTERIOUS RUSSIAN
Johnny’s jaw dropped, and he barely checked
a gasp, as through his screen of furs he saw
the man who now entered W0 Cheng’s den of
disguises. He was none other than the man of
the street ﬁght, the short one of the broad
shoulders and sharp chin. Johnny was surprised
in more ways than one; surprised that the man
was here at all; that it could have been he who
had given that authoritative signal at the door,
and most of all, surprised that W0 Cheng should
have admitted him so readily, and should be
treating him with such deference.
“ Evidently,” Johnny thought to himself, “ this
fellow has been here before.”
Although unquestionably a Russian, the new-
comer appeared quite equal to the task of mak-
ing his wants known in ‘Chinese, for after a
moment’s conversation the two men made their
way toward the back of the room.
22
___ L


The Mysterious Russia/n 23
Johnny had his second shock when he saw the
garments the Russian began to examine. They
were no other than those which ‘had twice before
in the last hour been examined by customers,
the clothing for the Far North. This was too
much. Again, he barely checked a gasp. Was
the entire population of the city about to move
to the polar regions? He would ask W0 Cheng.
In the meantime, Johnny prayed that the Rus-
sian might make his choice speedily, since the
time of departure of his train was approaching.
The Russian rnade his selections, "apparently
more from a sense of taste than with an eye
to warmth and service. This ﬁnal choice was
a suit of squirrel skin and boots of deer skin.
“ Cumshaw? ”
Into Wo Cheng’s beady, squinting eyes,_as he
addressed this word to the Russian, there came
a look of malignant cunning which Johnny had
not seen there before. It sent chills racing up
and down his spine. It almost seemed to him
that the Chinaman’s hand was feeling for his
belt, where ‘his knife was hidden.
For a moment the Russian turned his back to
W0 Cheng, and so faced Johnny. Behind his
I


24 Triple S pies
screen, the “Yank ” could observe his actions
without himself being seen.
From an inner pocket the Russian extracted
a long, thick envelope. Unwrapping the cord at
the top of this, he shook from it three shining
particles.
“ Diamonds!” Johnny’s eyes were dazzled
with the lustre of the jewels.
The Russian, selecting one, dropped the others
back into the envelope.
“ Bet he’s got a hundred more,” was J0hnny’s
mental comment. Then he noticed a peculiarity
of the envelope. There was a red circle in the
lower, left hand corner, as if a seal had been
stamped there. He would remember that envel-
ope should he ever see it again.
But at this instant his attention was drawn
to the men again. The Russian had turned and
handed the gem to W0 Cheng. W0 Cheng
stepped to the light and examined it.
“ No need cumshaw my,” he murmured.
The Russian bowed gravely, and turned
toward the door.
It was then that the face of the Chinaman
underwent a rapid change. The look of crafti-
-._ --. _ - ._.__._.\ .


26 Triple S pies
“ Cumshaw? ” he grinned, facing W0 Cheng,
as he completed his selection.
The yellow man shrugged his shoulders, as
if to say it made little difference to him in this
case.
Johnny peeled a bill from his roll of United
States currency and handed it to him.
“ W0 Cheng,” he said slowly, “ go north, Jap
woman? Go north, that Russian? Why? ”
The Chinaman’s face took on a mask-like
appearance.
“ No can do,” he muttered. “Allatime keep
mouth shut my.”
“ Tell me,” commanded Johnny, advancing in
a threatening manner, with his hand near the
Russian’s knife.
“ No can do,” protested the Chinaman cring-
ing away. “ Allatime keep mouth shut my. No
ask my. No tell my. Allatime buy, sell my.
No savvy my.” ‘
It was evident that nothing was to be learned
here of the intentions of the two strangers; so,
grasping his bundle, Johnny lifted the latch and
found himself out in the silent, deserted alley.
The air was kind to his heated brow. As he
_ A


The Mysterious Russian 27
took the ﬁrst few steps his costume troubled him.
He was wearing the parka and the corduroy
trousers. He felt no longer the slight tug of
puttees about his ankles. His trousers ﬂapped
against his legs at every step. The hood heated
the back of his neck. The fur trousers and the
skin boots were in the bundle under his arm.
His soldier’s uniform he had left with the keeper
of the hidden clothes shop. He hardly thought
that anyone, save a very personal acquaintance,
would recognize him in his new garb, and there
was little chance of such a meeting at this hour
of the night. However, he gave three Amer-
ican oﬂicers, apparently returning from a late
party of some sort, a wide berth, and dodging
down a narrow street, made his way toward the
railway yards where ‘he would ﬁnd the drowsy
comforts of the caboose of the “ Reindeer
Special.”
* * =0: >1: *
“American, ain’t y’?” A sergeant of the
United States army addressed this question to
Johnny. _
The latter was curled up ‘half asleep in a cor-
ner of the caboose of the “ Reindeer Special”
I


28 , Triple Spies
which had been bumping over the rails for some
time.
“ Ya-a,” he yawned.
“Going north to trade, I s’pose? ”
Johnny was tempted not to answer. Still, he
was not yet out of the woods.
“ Yep,” he replied cheerfully. “ Red fox,
white fox, mink, squirrel, ermine, muskrat.
Mighty good price.”
“ Where’s your pack?” The sergeant half
grinned.
Johnny sat up and stared. No, it was not
that he had had a pack and lost it. It was that
he had never had a pack. And traders carried
packs. Why to be sure; things to trade for furs.
“Pack?” he said confusedly. “Ah-er, yes.
Why, yes, my pack, of course,_ why I left it;
no—hang it! Come to think of it, I’m getting
that at the end of this line, Khabarask, you
know.”
Johnny studied the old sergeant through nar-
rowing eyelids. He had given him a ten spot
before the train rattled from the yards. Was
that enough? Would any sum be enough?
Johnny shivered a little. The man was an old


The Mysterious Russian 29
regular, a veteran of many battles not given in
histories. Was he one of those who took this
motto: “ Anything’s all right that you can get
away with?” Johnny wondered. It might be,
just might be, that Johnny would go back on
this same train to Vladivostok; and that, Johnny
had no desire to do.
The sergeant’s eyes closed for a wink of sleep.
Johnny looked furtively about the car. The three
other occupants were asleep. He drew a fat
roll of American bills from his pocket. From
the very center he extracted a well worn one
dollar bill. Having replaced the roll, he
smoothed out the “one spot” and examined it
closely. Across the face of it was a purple
stamp. In the circle of this stamp were the
words, “Wales, Alaska.” A smile spread over
Johnny’s shrewd, young face.
“ Yes sir, there you are, li’l Iol’ one-case note,”
he whispered. “ You come all the way from
God’s country, from Alaska to Vladivostok, all
by yourself. I don’t know how many times you
changed hands before you got here, but here you
are, and it took you only four months to come.
Stay with me, little old bit of Uncle Sam’s treas-


30 Triple Spies
ure, and I’ll take you home; straight back to
God’s country.”
He folded the bill carefully and stowed it in
an inner pocket, next to his heart.
If the missionary postmistress at Cape Prince
of Wales, on Behring Strait, had realized what
homesick feelings she was going to stir up in
]ohnny’s heart by impressing her post oﬁice
stamp on that bill before she paid it to some
Eskimo, perhaps she would not have stamped
it, and then again, perhaps she would.
A sudden jolt as they rumbled on to a side-
track awoke the sergeant, who seemed disposed
to resume the conversation where he had left
oﬁ‘.
“ S’pose it’s mighty dangerous tradin’ on this
side?”
“ Uh-huh,” Johnny grunted.
“ S’pose it’s a long way back to God’s country
this way?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Lot of the boys mighty sick of soldiering
over here. Ijot of ’em ’ud try it back to God’s
country ’f ’twasn’t so far.”
“Would, huh?” Johnny yawned.
__.___ I


The Mysterious Russian 31
/
“ Ye-ah, and then the officers are mighty hard
on the ones they ketch —-— ketch desertin’, I mean
—0fﬁcers are; when they ketch ’em, an’ they
mostly do.”
. “ Do what? ” Johnny tried to yawn again.
“Ketch ’em! They’re ﬁerce at that.”
There was a knowing grin on the sergeant’s
face, but no wink followed. Johnny waited
anxiously for the wink.
“ But it’s tough, now ain’t it?” observed the
sergeant. “ We can’t go home and can’t ﬁght.
What we here for, anyway? ”
“ Ye-ah,” Johnny smiled hopefully.
“ Expected to go home long ago, but no trans-
portation, not before spring; not even for them
that’s got discharges and papers to go home.
It's tough! You’d think a lot of ’em ’ud try
goin’ north to Alaska, wouldn’t you? Three
days in God’s country’s worth three years in
Leavenworth; you’d think they’d try it. And
they would, if ’t’wasn’t so far. Gad! Three
thousand miles! I’d admire the pluck of the fel-
low that dared.”
This time the wink which Johnny had been so
anxiously awaiting came; a full, free and frank
I


32 Triple Spies
wink it was. He winked back, then settled down
in his corner to sleep. _ _
A train rattled by. The “ Reindeer Special”
bumped back on the main track and went crash-
ing on its way. It screeched through little vil-
lages, half buried in snow. It glided along
between plains of whiteness. It rattled between
narrow hills, but Johnny was unconscious of it
all. He was fast asleep, storing up strength for
the morrow, and the many wild to-morrows which
were to follow.


CHAPTER III
TREACHERY OUT OF THE NIGHT
Johnny moved restlessly beneath his furs. He
had been dreaming, and in his dream he had
traveled far over scorching deserts, his steed
a camel, his companions Arabs. In his dream
he slept by night on the burning sand, with only
a silken canopy above him. In his dream he had
awakened with a sense of impending danger. A
prowling tiger had wandered over the desert, an
Arab had proved treacherous—who knows
what? The feeling, after all, had been only of
a vague dread.
The dream had wakened him, and now he lay
staring into utter darkness and marveling that
the dream was so much like the reality. He
was traveling over barren wastes with a cara-
van; had been for three days. But the waste
they crossed was a waste of snow. His com-
panions were natives — who like the Arabs, lived
as


34 Triple Spies
a nomadic life. Their steeds the swift footed
reindeer, their tents the igloos of walrus and
reindeer skins, they roamed over a territory hun-
dreds of miles in extent. To one of these “ ﬂeets
of the frozen desert,” Johnny had attached him-
self after leaving the train.
It had been a wonderful three days that he
had spent in his journeying northward. These
Chukches of Siberia, so like the Eskimos of
Alaska that one could distinguish them only by
the language they spoke, lived a romantic life.
Johnny had entered into this life with all the
zest of youth. True, he had found himself very
awkward in many things and had been set aside
with a growled, “Dezra” (that is enough),
many times but he had persevered and had
learned far more about the ways of these nomads
of the great, white north than they themselves
suspected.
During those three days Johrmy’s eyes had
been always on the job. He had not traveled
a dozen miles before he had made a thorough
study of the reindeer equipment. This, indeed,
was simple enough, but the simpler one’s equip-
ment, the more thorough must be one’s knowl-
_ _


36 Triple Spies
reindeer is a cross between a burro and an ox
in his disposition, and, once he has scented a
rich bed of mosses and lichens, on which he
feeds, he takes on the strength and speed of an
ox stampeding for a water hole in the desert,
and the stubbornness of a burro drawn away
from his favorite thistle.
The deer were driven by a single leather
strap; the old, old jerk strap of the days of ox
teams. Johnny had demanded at once the privi-
lege of driving but he had made a sorry mess
of it. He had jerked the strap to make the deer
go more slowly. This really being the signal
for greater speed, the deer had bolted across the
tundra, at last spilling Johnny and his load of
Chukche plunder over a cutbank. This pro-
cedure did not please the Chukches, and Johnny
was not given a second opportunity to drive. He
was compelled to trot along beside the sleds or,
back to back with one of his fellow travelers,
to ride over the gleaming whiteness that lay
everywhere.
It was at such times as these that Johnny
had ample opportunity to study the country
through which they passed. Lighted as it was
"ITI‘


Treachery Out of the Night 37
by a glorious moon, it presented a grand and
fascinating panorama. To the right lay the
frozen ocean, its white expanse cut here and
there by a pool of salt water pitchy black by
contrast with the ice. To the left lay the moun-
tains extending as far as the eye could see, with
their dark purple shadows and triangles of light
and seeming but another sea, that tempest-tossed
and terrible had been congealed by the bitter
northern blasts.
When twelve hours of travel had been
accomplished, and it had been proposed that they
camp for the night, Johnny had been quite free
to offer his assistance in setting up the tents.
In this he had been even less successful
than in his performance with the reindeer. He
had set the igloo poles wrong end up and, when
these had been righted, had spread the long
haired deerskin robes, which were to serve as
the inner lining of the shelters, hair side out,
which was also wrong. He had once more been
relegated to the background. This time he had
not cared, for it gave him an opportunity to
study his fellow travelers. They were for the
most part a dark and sullen bunch. Not under-


40 __Triple Spies _
sians, perhaps also with Orientals, and had
learned treachery.
“ And yet,” thought Johnny, “ what could they
want from me? ‘I paid them well for my trans-
portation. They sold their reindeer to the Amer-
ican army for a fat price. They would be more
than greedy if they wanted more.”
Nevertheless, the air of mystery hung about
him like a dark cloud. He could not sleep. And
not being able to sleep, he meditated.
He had already begun the eternal round of
thoughts that will revolve through a fellow’s
brain at night, when he heard a sound—the
soft crush of a_ skin boot in the snow it seemed.
He listened and thought ‘he heard it again, this
time more distinctly, as if the person were
approaching his igloo. A chill crept up and down
his spine. His right hand involuntarily freed
itself from the furs and sought the cold hilt of
the Russian knife. He had his army automatic,
but where there are many ears to hear a shot,
a knife is better.
“ What an ideal trap for treachery, this igloo!
A villain need but creep through tent-ﬂaps, pause
for a breath, then stealthily lift the deer skin


Treachery Out of the Night 41
curtain. A stab or a shot, and all would be
ended.” These thoughts sped through Johnny’s
mind.
Scarcely breathing, he waited for other signs
of life abroad at that ‘hour of night—a night
sixteen hours long. He heard nothing.
Finally, his mind took up again the endless
chain of thought. He had arrived safely at
Khabarask, the terminus of the Russian line.
Here he had remained for three days, half in
hiding, until the “ Reindeer Special” had com-
pleted its loading and had started on its south-
ern journey to the waiting doughboys. During
those three days he had made two startling dis-
coveries; the short Russian of the broad shoul-
ders and sharp chin, he of the envelope of dia-
monds, was in Khabarask. Johnny had seen
him in an eating place, and had had an oppor-
tunity to study him without being observed. The
man, he concluded, although a total stranger in
these parts, was a person of consequence, a leader
of some sort, accustomed to being obeyed. There
seemed a brutal certainty about the way he or-
dered the servants of the place to do his bid-
ding. There was a constant wrinkle of a frown


42 Triple Spies
between his eyes. A man, perhaps without a
sense of humor, he would force every issue to
the utmost. Once given an idea, he would over-
ride all obstacles to carry it through, not stopping
at death, or at many deaths. This had been
Johnny’s mental analysis of the character of the
man, and at once he began to half hate and half
admire him. He ‘had lost sight of him immedi-
ately, and had not discovered him again.
Whether the Russian had left town before the
native band did, Johnny could not tell. But, if
he had moved on, where did he go?
The other shock was similar in character. The
woman who had bought furs for the North had
also been in Khabarask. Whether she was a
Japanese Johnny was not prepared to say, and
that in spite of the fact that he had studied her
carefully for ﬁve days. She might be a Chuk-
che who, through some strange impulse, had
been led south to seek culture and education.
He doubted that. She might be an Eskimo
from Alaska making her way north to cross
Behring Strait in the spring. He doubted that
also. Finally she might be a Japanese woman,
but in that case, what could be the explanation
I


Treachery Out of the Night 43
of her presence here, some two hundred miles
north of the last vestige of civilization?
Now, not ten feet from the spot where Johnny
lay in an igloo assigned for her private use by
the natives, that identical girl slept at this
moment. Only four hours before, Johnny had
bade her good night, after an enjoyable repast
of tea, reindeer meat an‘d hard bread prepared
by her own hand over a small wood ﬁre. It was
she who was his fellow passenger, whose igloo
he had erected, close to his own. Yes, there was
mystery enough about the whole situation to
keep any fellow awake; yet Johnny hated him-
self for not sleeping. He felt that the time was
coming when he would need stored strength.
He had half dosed off when a sound very close
at hand, within the walls of canvas he thought,
started him again into wakefulness. His arm
ready and free for action, he lay still. His
breathing well regulated and even, as in sleep,
he watched through narrow slit eyes the deer
skin curtain rise, and a head appear. The ugly
shaved head of a Chukche it was; and in the
intruder’s hand was a knife.
The knife startled Johnny. He could not
I


44 Triple Spies
believe his eyes. He thought he was seeing
double; yet he did not move.
Slowly, silently the arm of the native rose
until it hung over Johnny’s heart. In a second
it would-
In that second something happened. There
came a deadly thwack. The native, without a
cry, fell backward beyond the curtain. His knife
shot outward too, and stuck hilt downward in
the snow.
Johnny drew himself slowly from beneath the
furs. Lifting the deer skin curtain cautiously,
he looked out. Then he chuckled a cold, dry
chuckle. His knuckles were bloody, for the
only weapon he had used was that truly Ameri-
can weapon, a clenched ﬁst. Johnny, as I have
suggested before, was somewhat handy with his
“ dukes.” His left was a bit out of repair just
now, but his right was quite all right, as the
crumpled heap of a man testiﬁed.
Johnny bent over the man and twisted his
head about. No, his neck was not broken.
Johnny was thankful for that. He hated to
see dead people even when they richly deserved
to die.


Treachery Out of the Night 45
Then he turned to the knife. He started
again, as he extricated the hilt from the snow.
But there was no time for examining it. His
ear caught a stiﬂed cry, a w0man’s cry. It
came, without a doubt, from the igloo of his
fellow traveler, the woman. Hastily thrusting
his knife in his belt, he threw back the tentﬂap
and crossed the intervening snowpatch in three
strides.
He threw back the canvas just in time to
seize a second native by the hood of his deer
skin parka. He whirled the man completely
about, tossed him high in the air, then struck
him as he was coming down; struck him in the
same place he had hit the other, only harder,
very much harder. He did not examine him
later for a broken neck, either. _
Turning, Johnny saw the woman staring at
him. Evidently she had slept‘ in her furs. As
she stood there now, she seemed quite equal to
the task of caring for herself. There was a
muscular sturdiness about her which Johnny
had failed to notice before. In her hand
gleamed a wicked looking dagger with a twisted
blade.


46 Triple Spies
But that she had been caught unawares, there
could be no question, and from the kindly ﬂash
in her eyes Johnny read the fact that she was
grateful for her deliverance.
He threw one glance at the other igloos.
Standing there casting dark, purple shadows,
they were strangely silent. Apparently these
two murderers had been appointed to accom-
plish the task alone. The others were asleep.
For this Johnny was thankful.
Turning to the woman he said sharply:
“ Gotta git outa here. You, me, savvy?”
“ Savvy,” she replied placidly.
Seizing her fur bag of small belongings,
Johnny hastened before her to where the sled
deer were tethered. Two sleds were still loaded,
one with an unused igloo and deerskins, the
other with food. To each of these Johnny has-
tily harnessed a reindeer. Then whipping out
his knife, he cut the tether of all the other deer.
They would follow; it was the way of reindeer.
Johnny smiled. These extra deer would spell
the others and quicken travel. In case of need,
they could be killed for food. Besides, if they
had no deer, the treacherous natives could not
I
JI-


Treachery Out of the Night 47
follow. They would be obliged to return to the
Russian town they had left and make a new
start, and by that time—Johnny patted his
chest where reposed the bill with the Alaskan
stamp on it, and murmured:
“ Stay with me li’l’ ol’ one-spot, and I’ll take
you home.”
He cast one more glance toward the igloos.
Not a soul had stirred.
“We’re off,” he exclaimed, leaping on his
sled and slapping his reindeer on the thigh
with the jerkstrap.
“Yes,” the Jap girl smiled as she followed
his example.
Johnny thought they were “off,” but it took
only an instant to tell that they were not. His
deer cut a circle and sent him gliding away over
the snows. Fortunately he held to his jerk-
strap and at last succeeded in stopping the
animal’s mad rush.
The Jap girl smiled again as she took the
jerkstrap from his hand and tied it down short_
to her own sled. Then she leaped upon her
sled again and, with some cooing words spoke
to her reindeer. The deer_tossed his antlers
A


48 Triple Spies
\
and trotted quietly away, leaving Johnny to
spring upon his own sled and ride in increasing
wonderment over the long glistening miles.
When they had traveled for eight hours with-
out a pause and without a balk, the Jap girl
allowed her deer to stop. She loosened the
draw strap and, turning the animal about, tied
him by a long line to the sled, that he might paw
moss from beneath the snow in a wide circle.
“How—how’d you know how to drive?”
Johnny stammered.
“ Never before so,” she smiled.
“You mean you never drove a reindeer? ”
“ Before now, no. Hungry you?” The Jap
girl smiled, as if to say, “ Enough about that,-
let’s eat.”
It was a royal meal they ate together, those
two there beneath the Arctic moon. This Jap
girl was a wonder, Johnny felt that, and he was
to learn it more certainly as the days passed.
Three days later he sat upon a robe of deer
skin. The corners of the robe were drawn up
over his shoulders. A shelter of deer skins and
walrus skins, hastily improvised by him during
the beginning of a terrible blizzard which came


Treachery Out of the Night 49
howling down from the north, was ample to keep
the wind from driving the biting snow into
their faces, but it could hardly keep out the
cold. In spite of that, the Jap girl, buried in
deer skins, with her back against his, was sleep-
ing soundly. Johnny was sleeping bolt upright
with one ear awake. His reindeer were picketed
close to the improvised igloo. Other nights, they
had taken turns watching to protect them from
prowling wolves, but this night no one could
long withstand the numbing cold of the blizzard.
So he watched and half slept. Now he caught
the rising howl of the wind, and now felt its
lull as the deer skins sagged. But what was
this? Was there a different note, a howl that
was not of the wind?
Shaking himself into entire wakefulness,
Johnny sat bolt upright and listened intently.
Yes, there it was again. A wolf beyond doubt,
as yet some distance away, but coming toward
them with the wind.
A wolf, a single one, was not all menace. If
he could be shot before his fangs tore at the
ﬂesh of a reindeer, there would be gain. He
would be food, and at the present moment there


50 Triple Spies
was no food. The Jap girl did not know it, but
Johnny did. Not a ﬁsh, not a hunk of venison,
not a pilot biscuit was on their sled. They
would soon be reduced to the necessity of killing
and eating one of their deer, unless, unless—
the howl came more plainly and strangely
enough with it came the crack crack of hoofs.
Johnny sprang to his feet. What could that
crack cracking of hoofs mean? Had one of his
deer already broken his tether?
With automatic in hand, he was out in the
storm in an instant. Even as he became accus-
tomed to the dim light, he saw a skulking form
drifting down with the wind. Dropping upon
his stomach, he took deliberate aim and ﬁred.
There was a howl of agony but still the creature
came on. Another shot and it turned over tear-
ing at the whirling snow.
Johnny jumped to his feet. “ Eats,” he
murmured.
But then there came that other sound again,
the crack crack of hoofs. He peered through
the swirling snow, counting his reindeer. They
were all there. Here was a mystery. It was
not long in solving. He had but to glance to
. J .1


Treachery Out of the Night 51
the south of his reindeer to detect some dark
object bulking large in the night.
“ A deer!” he muttered. “ A wild reindeer!
What luck! ”
It was true. The wolf had doubtless been
stalking him. Creeping stealthily forward, foot
by foot, Johnny was at last within easy range
of the creature. His automatic cracked twice
in quick succession and a moment later he was
exulting over two hundred pounds of fresh
meat, food for many days.
Twenty hours later, Johnny found himself sit-
ting sleepily on the edge of one of the deer sleds.
The reindeer, unhitched and tethered, were dig-
ging beneath the snow for moss. The storm
had subsided and once more they had journeyed
far. The Jap girl was buried deep beneath the
furs on the other sled.
Johnny was puzzling his brain at this time
over one thing. They had followed a half cov-
ered, ancient trail due north for two days.
Then a fresh track had joined the old one. It
was the track of a man with dog team and sled.
This they had followed due north again, and
two hours ago, while the deer were resting and
A‘


52 Triple Spies
feeding, Johnny had detected the Jap girl in
the act of measuringthe footprints of the man
who drove the dog team.
She had appeared troubled and embarrassed
when she knew that he had seen what she was
doing. Notwithstanding the fact that there had
been no sign of guilt or treachery in her frank
brown eyes, Johnny had been perplexed. What
secret was she hiding from him? What did
she know, or seek to know, about this man
whose trail had joined theirs at an angle?
Could it be? No, Johnny dismissed the thought
which came to his mind.
He had dismissed all his perplexities, and
was about to abandon himself to three winks
of sleep, when something on the horizon
attracted his attention. A mere dot at ﬁrst, it
grew rapidly larger.
“Dog team or reindeer on our _trail,” he
thought. “ I wonder.”
From beneath his parka he drew his long
blue automatic. After examining its clip, "he
laid it down on the sled with two other clips
beside it. Then he drew the two knives also
from his belt; the one he had secured at the
-.-ll§g__


Treachery Out of the Night 53
I
time of the street ﬁght in Vladivostok, the other
had belonged to the Chukche who had attacked
him. For the twentieth time he noted that they
were exactly alike, blade forging, hilt carving,
and all. And again, this realization set him to
speculating. How had this brace of knives got
so widely separated? How had this one found
its way to the heart of a Chukche tribe? Why
had the Chukches attempted to murder the
Japanese girl and himself? Had it been with
the hope of securing wealth from their simple
luggage, or had they been bribed to do it? Once
more his brain was in a whirl.
But there was business at hand. The black
spot had developed into a reindeer, driven by a
man. How many were following this man
Johnny could not tell.


Wt
CHAPTER IV
A NARROW ESCAPE
As Johnny stood awaiting the arrival of the
stranger, many wild misgivings raced through
his mind. What if this man was but the fore-
runner of the whole Chukche tribe? Then in-
deed, for himself and the Japanese girl things
were at an end.
The newcomer was armed with a riﬂe. Johnny
would stand little show with ‘him in a duel, good
as his automatic was.
But the man came on with a jaunty swing that
somehow was reassuring. Who could he be?
As he came close, he dropped his riﬂe on his
sled and approached with empty hands.
“I am Iyok-ok,” he said in good English,
at the same time thrusting out his hand. “I
was an American soldier, an Eskimo. Now I
am going back to my home at Cape Prince of
Wales.”
54
-I


A_ Narrow Escape 55
ll
You got your discharge easily,” smiled
Johnny.
“ Not so easy, but I got it.”
“ Well, anyway, stranger,” said Johnny grip-
ping the other’s hand, “ I can give you welcome,
comrade. We are traveling the same way.”
The Eskimo looked at Johnny’s regulation
army shoes as he said the word comrade, but
made no comment.
“ Know anything about travel in such a
country? ” asked Johnny.
“ Most things you need to know.”
“ Then you sure are welcome," Johnny de-
clared. Then, as he looked at the Eskimo closely
there came to him a feeling that they had met
before but where and when he could not recall.
He did not mention the fact, but merely motioned
the stranger _to a seat on the sled while he dug
into his pack for a morsel of good cheer.
Many days later, Johnny lay sprawled upon
a double thickness of long haired deer skins. He
was reading a book. Two seal oil lamps sput-
tered in the igloo, but these were for heat, not
for light. Johnny got his light in the form of
a raggedly round patch of sunlight which fell
I


56 Triple Spies _
straight down from the top where the poles of
the igloo met.
Johnny was very comfortable physically, but
not entirely at ease mentally. He had been
puzzled by something that had happened ﬁve
minutes before. Moreover, he was half angry
at his enforced idleness here.
Yet he was very comfortable. The igloo was
a permanent one. Erected at the base of a clilf,
covered over with walrus skin, lined with deer
skin, and ﬂoored with planks hewn from drift-
wood logs, it was perfect for a dwelling of its
kind. It stood in a hunting village on the
Siberian shore of Behring Sea. The Jap girl,
Johnny and Iyok-ok had traveled thus far_ in
safety.
Yes, they had come a long distance, many
hundreds of miles. As Johnny thought of it
now, he put his book aside (a dry, old novel,
left here by some American seaman) and
dreamed those days all through again.
Wonderful days had followed the addition of
Iyok-ok to their party. From that hour they
had wanted nothing of food or shelter. Reared
as he apparently had been in such wilds as
1*


‘ A Narrow Escape 57
these, the native skillfully had sought out the
best of game, the driest, most sheltered of camp-
ing spots, in fact, had done everything that
tended to make life easy in such a land.
J0hm1y’s reveries were cut short and he
started suddenly to his feet. A pebble had
dropped squarely upon the deer skin spread out
before him. It had come through the hole in
the peak of the igloo. He glanced quickly up,
but saw nothing.
Then he grinned. “Just a case of nerves, I
guess. Some kids playing on the cliff. Any-
way, I’ll investigate,” he said to himself.
Throwing back the deerskin ﬂap, he stepped
outside. Did he see a boot disappear around
the point of the cliff above the igloo? He could
not tell. At any rate, there was no use wasting
more time on the question. To see farther
around the cliff, one must climb up its rough
face, and by that time any mischief maker might
have disappeared.
Yet Johnny stood there worried and puzzled.
Twice in the last hour pebbles had rattled down
upon the igloo, and now one had dropped inside.
An old grievance stirred him: Why were not
/
l
l
_


58 Triple Spies
he and his strange companions on their way?
With only four hundred miles to travel to East
Cape, with a splendid trail, with reindeer well
fed and rested, it seemed folly to linger in this
native village. The reindeer Chukches, whose
sled deer they had borrowed, might be upon
them at any moment, and that, Johnny felt sure,
would result in an unpleasant mixup. Yet he
had been utterly unable to get the little Oriental
girl and Iyok-ok to go on. Why? He could
only guess. There were a great many other
things he could only guess at. The little Oriental
girl’s reason for going so far into the wilderness
was as much a secret as ever. He could only
guess that it had to do with the following of that
mysterious driver of a dog team. With unerring
precision this man had pushed straight on north-
ward toward East Cape and Behring Strait.
And they had followed, not, so far as Johnny
was concerned, because they were interested in
him, but because he had traveled their way.
At times they had come upon his camp.
Located at the edge of some bank or beside some
willow clump, where there was shelter from the
wind, these camps told little or nothing of the
__ L ._._


A Narrow Escape 59
man who had made them. Everything which
might tell tales had been carried on or burned.
Once only Johnny had found a scrap of paper.
Nothing had been written on it. From it Johnny
had learned one thing only: it had originally
come from some Russian town, for it had the
texture of Russian bond. But this was little
news.
VVho was this stranger who traveled so far?
Johnny had a feeling that he was at the moment
hiding in this native village, and that this was
the reason his two companions did not wish to
proceed. There had grown up between these
two, the Eskimo boy and the Japanese girl, a
strange friendship. At times Johnny had sus-
picions that this friendship had existed before
they had met on the tundra. However that
might have been, they seemed now to be work-
ing in unison. Only the day before he had hap-
pened to overhear them conversing in low tones,
and the language, he would have sworn, was
neither Eskimo, English, nor Pidgen. Yet he did
not question the boy’s statement that he was an
American Eskimo. Indeed there were times
when the ﬂash of his honest smile made Johnny
I


60 Triple Spies
F"‘-
believe that they had met somewhere in America.
On his trip to Nome and Fairbanks before the
war, Johnny had met many Eskimos, and had
boxed and wrestled with some of the best of
them.
“ Oh, well,” he sighed, and stretched himself,
“ ’tain’t that I’ve got a string on ’em, nor them
on me. I’ll have to wait or go on alone, that’s
all.”
He entered the igloo, and tried again to be-
come interested in his book, but his mind kept
returning to the strange friendship which had
grown up between the three of them, Iyok-ok,
the Jap girl and himself. The Jap girl had
proved a good sport indeed. She might have
ridden all the time, but she walked as far in a
day as they did. She cooked their meals cheer-
fully, and laughed over every mishap.
So they had traveled northward. Three happy
children in a great white wilderness, they
pitched their igloos at night, a small one for the
girl, a larger one for the two men, and, burying
themselves beneath the deer skins, had slept the
dreamless sleep of children, wearied from play.
The Jap girl had appeared to be quite content
____—\L


A Narrow Escape 61
to be going into an unknown wilderness. Only
once she had seemed concerned. That was when
a long detour had taken them from the track of
the unknown traveler, but her cheerfulness had
returned once they had come upon his track
again. This had set Johnny speculating once
more. Who was this stranger? Was he related
to the girl in some way? Was he her friend or
her foe? Was he really in this village at this
time? If so,_why did she not seek him out? If
a friend, why did she not join him; and, if an
enemy, why not have him killed? Surely, here
they were quite beyond the law.
Oh, yes, Johnny might get a dog team and go
on up the coast alone, but Johnny liked his two
traveling companions too well for that, and
besides, Johnny dearly loved mysteries, and here
was a whole nest of them. No, Johnny would
wait.
The seal oil lamps imparted a drowsy warmth
to the igloo. The deer skins were soft and com-
fortable. Johnny grew sleepy. Throwing the
ragged old book in the corner, he stretched out
full length on the skins, which lay in the irregu-
lar circle of light, and was soon fast asleep.
AR
l
-4141-. a_turn:-1_In I\..—1=._m_a=u|_r_I a.-4. L -
\.
u
1
La -‘
‘1
\
i
_
L
I
‘
I


CHAPTER V
“ FRIEND? ENEMY? ”
Johnny Thompson, before he joined the army,
had been considered one of the speediest men
of the boxing ring. His brain worked like light-
ning, and every muscle in his body responded
instantly to its call. Johnny had not lost any of
his speed. It was well that he had not, for, like
a spinning car-wheel, he rolled over twice be-
fore the hook buried itself to the end of its
barb in the pungent plank on which he had re-
clined an instant before.
Nor did Johnny stop rolling then. He con-
tinued until he bumped against the skin wall of
his abode. This was fortunate also, for he had
not half regained his senses when two almost
instantaneous explosions shook the igloo, tore the
plank ﬂoor into shreds, shooting splinters about,
and even through the double skin wall, and ﬁll-
ing Johnny’s eyes with powder smoke and dust.
es


64 Tripk Spies
Johnny sat up with one hand on his auto-
matic. He was fully awake.
“Is that all?” he drawled. “Thanks! It’s
enough, I should say. Johnny Thompson exit.”
A wry grin was on his face. “ Johnny Thomp-
son killed by a falling whale harpoon; shot to
death by a whale gun; blown to atoms by a whale
bomb. Exit Johnny. They do it in the movies,
I say!”
But that was not quite all. The blazing seal
oil lamps had overturned. Splinters from the
ﬂoor were catching ﬁre. Johnny busied himself
at beating these out. As soon as this had been
accomplished, he stepped outside.
From an awe-struck ring of native women
and children, who had been attracted by the
explosion, the little Jap girl darted.
“ Oh, Meester Thompsie! ” she exclaimed,
wringing her hands, “ so terrible, awful a
catastrophe! Are you not killed? So terrible! ”
Johnny grinned.
“ Nope,” he said, putting out a hand to con-
sole her. “ I’m not killed, nor even blown to
pieces. What I’d like to know is, who dropped
that harpoon.”
" _|l|.


“ Friend? Enemy? ” 65
He looked from face to face of the silent
circle. Not one showed a sign of any knowl-
edge of the affair. They had heard the explo-
sion and had run from their homes to see what
had happened.
Turning toward the cliff, from which the har-
poon had been dropped, Johnny studied it care-
fully. No trace of living creature was to be
discovered there. Then he looked again at the
circle of brown faces, seeking any recent arrival.
There was none.
“ Come! ” he said to the Jap girl.
Taking her hand, he led her from house to
house of the village. Beyond two to three old
women, too badly crippled to walk, the houses
were found to contain no one.
“ Well, one thing is sure,” Johnny observed,
“ the Chukche reindeer herders have not come.
It was not they who did it.”
“ No,” answered the Jap girl.
“ Say!” exclaimed Johnny, in a tone more
severe than he had ever used with his com-
panion, “why in thunder can’t we get out of
this hole? What are we sticking here for? ”
“Can’t tell.” The girl wrung her hands


66 Triple Spies
((
again. Can’t tell. Can’t go, that’s all. You
go; all right, mebby. Can’t go my. That’s all.
Mebby go to-morrow; mebby next day. Can’t
tell.”
Johnny was half inclined to believe that she
was in league with the treachery which hung
over the place, and had shown itself in the form
of loaded harpoons, but when he realized that
she did not urge him to stay, he found it impos-
sible to suspect her.
“ Well, anyway, darn it! ”
“ What?” she smiled.
“ Oh, nothing,” he growled, and turned away.
_ Two hours later Johnny was lying on the ﬂat
ledge of the rocky cliff from which the_harpoon
had been dropped. He was, however, a hun-
dred feet or more down toward the bay. He
was watching a certain igloo, and at the same
time keeping an eye on the shore ice. Iyok-ok
had gone seal hunting. When he returned over
the ice, Johnny meant to have a ﬁnal confab
with him in regard to starting north.
As to the vigil he kept on the igloo, that was
the result of certain suspicions regarding the
occupants of that particular shelter. There was


. “ Friend? Enemy? ” 67
a dog team which hung about the place. These
dogs were larger and sleeker than the other
animals of the village. Their ﬁghts with other
dogs were more frequent and severe. That
would naturally mark them as strangers. Johnny
had made several journeys of a mile or two up
and down the beach trail, and, as far as he
could tell, the man of mystery whose trail they
had followed to this village had not left the
place.
“ Of course,” he had told himself, “ he might
have been one of the villagers returning to his
home. But that doesn’t seem probable.”
From all this, Johnny had arrived at the con-
clusion that the watching of this house would
yield interesting results.
It did. He had not been lying on the cliff half
an hour, when the ﬁgure of a man came back-
ing out of the igloo’s entrance. Johnny whis-
tled. He was sure he had seen that pair of
shoulders before. And the parka the man wore;
it was not of the very far north. There was a
smoothness about the tan and something about
the cut of it that marked it at once as coming
from a Russian shop, such as W0 Cheng kept.


68 Triple Spies
“ And squirrel skin! ” Johnny breathed.
He was not kept long in doubt as to the
identity of the wearer. As the man turned to
look behind him, Johnny saw the sharp chin of
the Russian, the man of the street ﬁght and the
many diamonds. He had acquired something
of a beard, but there was no mistaking those
frowning brows, square shoulders and that chin.
“ So,” Johnny thought, “he is the fellow we
have been trailing. The Jap girl wanted to
follow him and so, perhaps, did Iyok-ok. I
wonder why? And say, old dear,” he whis-
pered, “I wonder if it could have been you
who dropped that harpoon. It’s plain enough
from the looks of you that you’d do it, once you
fancied you’d half a reason. I’ve a good
mind-- ” His hand reached for his automatic.
“No,” he decided, “I won’t do it. I don’t
really know that you deserve it; besides I hate
corpses, and things like that. But I say! ”
A new and wonderful thought had come to
him. He felt that, at any rate, he owed this
person something, and he should have it. Be-
side Johnny on the ledge, where some native
had left it, out of reach of the dogs, was a
J
T1


“ Friend? Enemy? ” 69
sewed up seal skin full of seal oil. To the native
of the north seal oil is what Limburger cheese
is to a Dutchman. He puts it away in skin
sacks to bask in the sun for a year or more and
ripen. This particular sackful was “ ripe”; it
was over ripe and had been for some time.
Johnny oould tell that by the smooth, balloon-
like rotundity of the thing. In fact, he guessed
it was about due to burst. Once Johnny had
taken a cup of this liquid for tea. He had it
close enough to his face to catch a whiff of it.
He could still recall the smell of it.
Now his right hand smoothed the bloated
skin tenderly. He twisted it about, and balanced
it in his hand. Yes, he could do it! The Rus-
sian was not looking up. There was a con-
venient ledge, some three feet above his head.
There the sack would strike and burst. The boy
smiled, in contemplation of that bursting.
“ This for what you may have done,” Johnny
whispered, and balancing the sack in his hand,
as if it had been a football, he gave it a little
toss. Over the cliff it went to a sheer fall of
ﬁfteen feet. There followed a muﬂled explo-
sion. It had burst! Johnny saw the Russian
I


70 Triple Spies
completely deluged with the vile smelling liquid.
Then he ducked.
As he lay ﬂat on the ledge, he caught a silvery
laugh. Looking quickly about, he found himself
staring into the eyes of the little Jap girl. She
had been watching him.
“ You—you—know him?” he stammered.
The girl shrugged her shoulders.
“ Your friend?”
She shook her head vigorously.
“ Enemy? Kill?” Johnny’s hand sought his
automatic.
“ No! No! No! ” she fairly screamed. “ Not
kill!” Her hand was on his arm with a frantic
grip.
“ Why?” .
“ No can tell. Only, not kill; not kill now.
No! No! No! Mebby never!”
“Well, I’ll be—” Johnny took his hand
from his gun and peered over the ledge. The
man was gone. It was a dirty trick he had
played. He half wished he had not done it.
And yet, the Jap girl had laughed. She knew
what the man was. She had been close enough
to have stopped him, had she thought it right.
.-lnﬂ


72 Triple Spies
\
why had she followed this Russian so far?
Somehow, Johnny could not help but feel that
the Russian was a deep dyed plotter of some sort.
He was inclined to believe that he had had much
to do with that harpoon episode as well as the
murder attempted by the reindeer Chukches.
“ By Jove!” the American boy suddenly
slapped his knee. “ The knife, the two knives
exactly alike. One he tried to use in the street
ﬁght at Vladivostok; the other he must have
given to the reindeer Chukche to use on anyone
who might follow him.”
For a time he sat in deep thought. As he
weighed the probabilities for and against this
theory, he found himself doubting. There might
be many knives of this pattern. The knife
might have been stolen from him by the Chuk-
che, or the Russian might have given it to the
native as a reward for service, having no idea
to what deadly purposes it would be put. And,
again, if he were that type of plotter, would not
the Jap girl know of it, and desire him killed?
The Japanese girl puzzled Johnny more and
more. Her friendship for Iyok-ok, her eager-
ness to protect the Russian-—-what was to be
‘I


“ Friend? Enemy? ” 73
made of all this? Were the three of them, after
all, leagued together in deeds of darkness? And
was he, Johnny, a pawn to be sacriﬁced at the
proper moment?
And the Russian, why was he traveling so
far north? What possible interests could he
have here? Was he, too, planning to cross the
Strait to America? Or was he in search of
wealth hidden away in this frozen land?
“ The furs! I’ll bet that’s it! ” Johnny slapped
his knee. “This Russian has come north to
demand tribute for his government from the
hunting Chukches. They’re rich in furs — mink,
ermine, red, white, silver gray and black fox.
A man could carry a fortune in them on one
sled. Yes, sir! That’s his business up here.”
But then, the diamonds? Again Johnny
seemed to have reached the end of a blind alley
in his thinking. Who could be so rash as to
carry thousands of dollars’ worth of jewels on
such a trip? And yet, he was not certain the
man had them now. He had seen them but
once, and that in the disguise shop.
Further thoughts were cut short by a head
thrust in at the ﬂap of the igloo. It was Iyok-ok.
I


74 Triple Spies
“ Go soon,” he smiled. “ Mebby two hours.”
“ North? ”
“ Eh-eh ” (yes), he answered, lapsing into
Eskimo.
“ All right.”
The head disappeared. ‘
“Well, anyway, my seal oil bath did some
good,” Johnny remarked to himself. “ It jarred
the old fox out of his lair and started him on
his way.”
He wondered a little about the Jap girl.
Would she still travel with them? These mus-
ings were cut short when he carried his bundle
to the deer sled. She was there to greet him
with a broad smile. And so once more they sped
away over the tundra in the moonlight.
They had not gone ﬁve miles before Johnny
had assured himself that once more the Russian
and his dog team had preceded them.
~“
*-


*
J
CHAPTER VI
“ NOW I SHALL KILL YOU"
Johnny Thompson was at peace with the
world. He was engaged in the most delightful
of all occupations, gathering gold. He had
often dreamed of gathering gold. He had
dreamed, too, of ﬁnding money strewn upon
the street. But now, here he was, with one of
these choice Russian knives, picking away at
clumps of frozen earth and picking up, as they
fell out, particles of gold. Some were tiny;
many were large as a pea, and one had been the
size of a hickory nut. Now and again he
straightened up to swing a pick into the frozen
gravel which lay within the circle of light made
by his pocket ﬂashlight. After a few strokes
he would throw down the pick and begin break-
ing up the lumps. Every now and again, he
would lift the small sack into which the lumps
were dropped. It grew heavier every moment.
75


76 Triple Spies
It was quite dark all about him; indeed,
Johnny was nearly a hundred feet straight into
the heart of a cut bank, and, to start on this
straight ahead drift, he had been obliged to
lower himself into a shaft as into a well, a drop
of ﬁfteen feet or more. That the mine had
other drifts he knew, but this one suited him.
That it had another occupant he also knew, but
this did not trouble him. He was too much
interested in the yellow glitter of real gold to
think of danger. And he was half dazed by
the realization that there could be a gold mine
like this in Siberia. Alaska had gold, plenty of
it, of course, and he was now less than two
hundred miles from Alaska, but he had never
dreamed that the dreary slopes of the Kamchat-
kan Peninsula could harbor such wealth. Some-
one had been mining it, too, but that must have
been months, perhaps years, ago. The pick
handles were rough with decay, the pans red
with rust. .
Curiosity had led Johnny to this spot, a half
mile from the native village at the mouth of the
Anadir River. He had been marooned again in
that village. They had covered three hundred
31


“ Now I Shall Kill You ” 77
miles on their last journey, then had come an-
other pause. This time, though ‘he did not even
see his dogs about the village, Johnny felt sure
that the Russian had once more taken to hiding.
Having nothing else to do, Johnny had fol-
lowed a narrow track up the river. The track
had come to an end at the entrance to the mine.
Thinking it merely a sort of crude cold storage
plant for keeping meat fresh, he had let himself
down to explore it. Increasing curiosity had led
him on until he had discovered the gold. Now
he had quite forgotten the person whose tracks
led him to the spot.
He was shocked into instant and vivid realiza-
tion of peril by a cold pressure on his temple and
a voice which said in the preciseness of a
foreigner:
“ Now I have you, sir. Now I shall kill you,
sir.”
In that instant Johnny prepared himself for
his ﬁnal earthly sensation. He had recognized
the voice of the Russian.
There came a click, then a snap. The next
instant the revolver which had rested against
his forehead struck the frozen roof of the mine.
»_i


78 Triple Spies
The weapon had missed ﬁre and, between turns
of the cylinder, Johnny’s good right hand had
struck out and up.
The light snapped out, and in the midnight
darkness of that icy cavern the two grappled
and fell.
Had Johnny been in possession of the full
power of his left arm, the battle would have
been over soon. As it was they rolled over and
over, their bodies crushing frozen bits of pay-
dirt, like twin rollers. They struggled for mas-
tery. Each man realized that, unless some un-
foreseen power intervened, defeat meant death.
The Russian fought with the stubbornness of
his race; fought unfairly too, biting and kicking
when opportunity permitted. Three times
Johnny barely missed a blow on the head which
meant unconsciousness, then death.
At last, panting, perspiring, bleeding and
bruised, Johnny clamped his right arm about his
antagonist’s neck and, ﬂopping his body across
his chest, lay there until the Russian’s muscles
relaxed.
Sliding to a sitting position, the American
began feeling about in the dark. At last, grin-


“ Now I Shall Kill You ” 79
ping a ﬂashlight, he snapped it on. The face of
the Russian revealed the fact that he was not
unconscious. Johnny slid to a position which
brought each knee down upon one of the Rus-
sian’s arms. He would take no chances with
that man.
Slowly Johnny ﬂashed the light about, then,
with a little exclamation, he reached out and
gripped the handle of the Russian’s revolver.
“Now,” he mocked, “now I have you, sir.
Now I shall kill you, sir.”
He had hardly spoken the words when a body
hurled itself upon him, knocking the revolver
from his hand and extinguishing the light.
“So. There are others! Let them come,”
roared Johnny, striking out with his right in the
dark.
“Azeezruk nucky.” To his astonishment he
recognized the voice of Iyok-ok. What he had
said, in Eskimo, was, “ It would be a bad thing
to kill him,” meaning doubtless the Russian.
“Azeezruk adocema ” (he is a bad one), re-
plied Johnny, throwing the light on the sullen
face of the Eskimo.
“ Eh-eh ” (yes), the other agreed.


“ Now I Shall Kill You ” 81
“Now,” said Johnny, seating himself on a
rusty pan, as the Russian went shuffling out of
the mine, “tell me why you didn’t let me kill
him.”
“ Can’t tell,” was Iyok-ok’s laconic reply.
“ Why? ”
“ Not now. Sometime, maybe. Not now.”
“Look here,” said Johnny savagely, “that
man has tried to kill me or have me killed, three
times, is it not so?”
Iyok-ok did not answer.
“First,” Johnny went on, “ he induces the
reindeer Chukches to try to kill me and fur-
nishes them the knife to do it with. Eh?”
“ Maybe.”
“ Second, he drops a harpoon into my igloo
and tries to harpoon me and blow me up.”
“ Maybe.”
“ And now he puts a revolver to my head and
pulls the trigger. Still you say ‘ No kill.’ What
shall I make of that?”
“ Canak-ti-ma-na” (I don’t know), said the
Eskimo. “ No kill, that’s all.”
Johnny was too much astonished and per-
plexed to say anything further. The two sat
J


82 Triple Spies
there for some time in silence. At last the
Eskimo rose and made his way toward the
entrance.
Johnny ﬂashed his light about the place. He
was looking for his sack of gold. Suddenly he
uttered an exclamation and put out his hand.
What it grasped was the envelope he had seen
in the Russian’s pocket at W0 Cheng’s shop, the
envelope of diamonds. And the diamonds were
still there; he could tell that by the feel of the
envelope.
Hastily searching out his now insigniﬁcant
treasure of gold, Johnny placed it with the
envelope of diamonds in his inner pocket and
hurried from the mine.
Darkness again found him musing over a sear
oil lamp. He was not in a very happy mood.
He was weary of orientalism and mystery. He
longed for the quiet of his little old town, Chi-
cago. Wouldn’t it be great to put his feet under
his old job and say, “Well, Boss, what’s the
dope to-day? ” Wouldn’t it, though? And to
go home at night to doll up in his glad rags and
call on Mazie. Oh, boy! ‘It fairly made him
sick to think of it.


84 Triple Spies
to Mazie; you can’t tell such things to a woman,
and I want to tell her all about things over here.
It’s been a hard old life, but so far I haven’t
done a single thing that I w0uldn’t be proud
to tell her about. No, sir, not one! I can say:
‘ Mazie, I did this and I did that,’ and Mazie ’ll
say, ‘ Oh, Johnny! Wasn’t that gr-ran-nd? ’ ”
Johnny grinned as the thought of it and felt
decidedly better. After all, what was the use
of living if one was to live on and on and on
and never have any adventures worth‘ the
telling?
For some time he lay sprawled out before the
lamp in silent reﬂection, then he sat up sud-
denly and pounded his knee.
“ By Jove! I’ll bet that’s it!” he exclaimed.
He had happened upon a new theory regard-
ing the Russian. It seemed probable to him that
this man, knowing of this gold mine, perhaps
being owner of it, had come north to determine
its value and the advisability of opening it for
operation in the spring. In these days, when
the money market of the world was gold hun-
gry, that glittering, yellow metal was of vast
importance, especially to the warring factions
_ J l_


86 Triple Spies
Then he stared and his hand shook. His eye
had fallen upon the stamp of the seal in the
corner of the envelope. He knew that secret
mark all too well; had learned it from W0
Cheng. It was the stamp of the biggest and
worst society of Radicals in all the world.
“So!” Johnny whispered to himself. “ So,
Mr. Russian, you are a Radical, a red, a Nihilist,
a communist, an anything-but-society-as-it-is
guy. You want the world to cough up its dough
and own nothing, and yet here you are carrying
round the price of a farm in your vest pocket.”
He chuckled. “ Some reformer, I’d say! ”
But his next thought sobered him. What was
he to do with all that wealth? One of those
stones would make Mazie happy for a lifetime.
But it wasn’t his. He had no right to it. He
could not do a thing he’d be ashamed to tell
Mazie and his old boss about.
But, if they didn’t belong to him, perhaps the
diamonds didn’t belong to the Russian either.
At any rate, the latter’s disloyalty to his nation
had forfeited his right to own property.
Even should this Russian be the rightful
owner, Johnny could not very well hunt him


CHAPTER VII
SAVED FROM THE MOB
“ What do you know about that gold mine?”
Johnny asked, turning an inquiring eye on
Iyok-ok, whom Johnny now strongly suspected
of being a Japanese and a member of the
Mikado’s secret service as well.
“Which mine?” Iyok-ok smiled good-na-
turedly as he blinked in the sunlight. It was
the morning after Johnny’s battle with the
Russian.
“ Are there others? ”
“ Seven mines.” ~
“Seven! And all of them rich as the one
we were in yesterday?” "
The boy shrugged his shoulders.
“ Some much richer,” he declared.
“ How long has the world known of this
wealth? ”
“ Never has known. A few men know, that’s
88
3.
‘ii


Saved from the Mob 89
all. The old Czar, he knew, but would let no
one work the mines. Just at the last he said
‘ Yes.’ Then they hurried much machinery
over here, but it was too late. The Czar-
well, you know he is dead now, but they have
their machinery here still.”
“Who are ‘they’?” asked Johnny with
curiosity fully aroused.
“American. I know. Can’t tell. Worked
for them once. Promise never tell.”
Johnny wrinkled his brow but did not press
the matter.
“But this Russia, the Kamchatkan Penin-
sula? ” Iyok-ok continued. “Whom does it
belong to now? Can you tell me that?”
Johnny shook his head.
“ Neither can They tell. If They knew, and
if They knew it was safe to come back and
mine here, when the world has so great need
of gold, you better believe They would come and
mine, But They do not know; They do not
know.” The boy pronounced the last words
with an undertone of. mystery. “Sometime I
will know. Then I— I will tell you, perhaps.”
“ Where’s the machinery?” asked Johnny.
A‘


90 Triple Spies
“ Up the river. Wanta see it? ”
“ Sure.”
They hurried away up the frozen river and
in ﬁfteen minutes came upon a row of low
sheds. The doors were locked, but to his great
surprise Johnny discovered that his companion
had the keys.
They were soon walking through dark aisles,
on each side of which were piled parts of
mining machines of every description, crushers,
rollers, smelters and various accessories con-
nected with quartz mining. Mingled with these
were picks, pans, steam thawers, windlasses,
and great piles of sluice timber. All these last
named were for mining placer gold.
“ Quartz too? ” asked Johnny.
“ Plenty of quartz,” grinned Iyok-ok. “ Come
out here, I will show you.”
They stepped outside. The boy locked the
door, then led his companion up a steep slope
until they were on a low point commanding a
view of the village below and a rocky cliff above.
“ See that cliff?” asked Iyok-ok. “Plenty
of gold there. Pick it out with your pen knife.
Rich! Too rich.”
W


Saved from the Mob 91
i“"ﬁ'W
“ Then this Peninsula is as rich as Alaska?”
“ Alaska?” Iyok-ok grinned. “Alaska?
What shall I say? Alaska, it is a joke. Think
of the great Lena River! Great as the Yukon.
Who knows what gold is deposited in the beds
and banks of that mighty stream? Who knows
anything about this wonderful peninsula? The
Czar, he has kept it locked. But now the Czar
is dead. The key is lost. Who will ﬁnd it?
Sometime we will see.”
The boy was interrupted by wild shouts com-
ing from the village. As their eyes turned in
that direction, Johnny and Iyok-ok beheld a
strange sight. The entire village had apparently
turned out to give chase to one man. And,
down to the last child, they were armed. But
such strange implements of warfare as they
carried! All were relics of by-gone days;
lances, walrus harpoons, bows and arrows, axes,
hammers and many more.
As Johnny watched them, he remembered hav-
ing been told by an old native that during and
after the great war these people had been un-
able to procure a sufﬁcient supply of ammuni-
tion and had been obliged to resort to ancient
I
.<
v
II
|l
.‘I
I
4<
ii
.1
I!
.1
1|!
|J
|<
_1
,1
,|
41
\l
:1
cl
xi 1
I!
4!
A
1|!
|l
ii
ll


92 Triple Spies
methods of hunting. These were the bow and
arrow, the lance and the harpoon. Powerful
bows, of some native wood, shot arrows tipped
with cunningly tempered bits of steel. The
drawn and tempered barrel of a discarded riﬂe
formed a point for the long-shafted lance. The
harpoon, most terrible of all weapons, both for
man and beast, was a long wooden shaft with
a loose point attached to a long skin rope. Once
ﬁve or six of these had been thrown into the
body of a great white bear or some offending
human he was doomed to die a death of ago-
nizing torture; his body being literally torn to
pieces by the drag upon the strong skin ropes,
fastened to the steel points imbedded in his ﬂesh.
Now it seemed evident that for some misdeed
one member of the tribe had been condemned
to die. As Johnny stood there staring, the
whole affair seemed so much like things he had
seen done on the screen, that he found it difﬁcult
to realize that this was an actual tragedy, being
enacted before his very eyes.
“ They do it in the movies,” he said.
“ Yes,” his companion agreed, “ but here they
will kill him. We must hurry to help him.”


Saved from the Mob 93
“ Who is he?” i
“ Don’t you see? The Russian.”
“Oh!” sighed Johnny. “ Let ’em have him.
He deserves as much from me, probably deserves
more from them.”
“ N0! No! N0! ” Iyok-ok protested, now very
much excited. “ That will never do. We must
save him. They think he’s from the Russian
Government. Think he will demand their furs
and carry them away. They mistake. They
will kill him. Your automatic! We must hurry.
Come.”
Johnny found himself being dragged down
the hill. As he looked below, he realized that
his companion was right. The man was doomed
unless they interfered. Already skillful archers
were pausing to shoot and their arrows fell
dangerously near the fugitive.
“ Now, from here,” panted Iyok-ok. “Your
automatic. Shoot over their heads. They will
stop. I will tell them. They will not kill him.”
Johnny’s hand went to his automatic, but
there it rested. These natives? What did he
have against them that he should interrupt
them in the chase? And this Russian, what


94 Triple Spies
claim did he have on him that he should save
his life? None, the answer was plain. And
yet, here was this boy, to whom he had grown
strangely attached, begging him to help save
the Russian. A strange state of affairs, for
sure. _
Toward them, as he ran, the Russian turned
a white, appealing face. To them came ever
louder and more appalling the cry of the excited
natives. Now an arrow fell three feet short of
its mark. And now, a stronger arm sent one
three yards beyond the man, but a foot to one
side. The whole scene, set as it was in the
purple shadows and yellow lights of the north-
land, was fascinating.
But the time had come to act.
“Well, then,” Johnny grunted, whipping out
his automatic, “ for your sake I’ll do it.”
Three times the automatic barked its vicious
challenge. The mob paused and waited silently.
Out of this silence there came a voice. It was
the voice of Iyok-ok by Johnny’s side. Through
cupped hands, he was speaking calmly to the
natives. His words were a jumble of Eskimo,
Chukche and pidgen-English, but Johnny knew
4...5,.


Saved from the Mob 95
they understood, for, as the speech went on, he
saw them drop their weapons, then one by one
pick them up again to go shuﬂling away.
Johnny looked about for the Russian. He had
disappeared.
“ Now what did you do that for? ” he asked
his companion. _
“ Can’t tell now,” Iyok-ok answered slowly.
“ Sometime, mebbe. Not now. Azeezruk
nucky, that’s all.” _
He paused and looked away at the hills; then
turning, extended his hand. “ Anyway, I thank
you very, very much I thank you.” _
With that they made their way toward the
village and the sea, which, packed and glistening
with ice, reﬂected all the glories of the gorgeous
Arctic sunset.
Three hours later Iyok-ok put his head in at
Johnny’s igloo and said:
“ One hour go.”
“ North?” asked Johnny.
“ North.”
“ You go? ”
“ Eh-eh.”
“ Jap girl go? ”
1.3
1 :£:=_=z :z AIALZ an an. :-
n
an
221;; 2:
11
ll
0|
____
Z2215; -Q 2;
nl


96 Triple Spies _
“ Eh-eh.”
“East Cape? Behring Strait?”
“ Mebbe.” With a smile, the boy was gone.
“ Evidently the Russian is on the move
again,” Johnny observed to himself. “ Wonder
what he intends to do about his diamonds?
Well, anyway, that proves that the gold mines
are not his goal.”
As Johnny dug into his pack for a dry pair
of deer skin stocks, he discovered that his belong-
ings had been tampered with.
“ The Russian,” he decided, “ evidently hasn’t
forgotten his diamonds.”


CHAPTER VIII
WHEN AN ESKIMO BECOMES A JAP
Johnny Thompson smiled as he drew on a
pair of rabbit skin trousers, then a parka made
of striped ground squirrel skin, ﬁnished with a
hood of wolf_ skin. It was not his own suit; it
had been borrowed from his host, a husky young
hunter of East Cape. But that was not his
reason for smiling. He was amused at the
thought of the preposterous misunderstanding
which his traveling companions had concerning
him.
Only the day before he had exclaimed:
“Iyok-ok, I believe I have guessed why the
Russian wants to kill me.”
“ Why? ”
“He thinks I am a member of.the United
States Secret Service.”
“ Well? Canak-ti-ma-na ” (I don’t know).
The boy had looked him squarely in the eye
as much as to say, “ Who could doubt that?”
97


98 Triple Spies
At ﬁrst Johnny had been inclined to assure
Iyok-ok that there was no truth in the assump-
tion, but the more he thought of it, the better he
was satisﬁed with things as they were. His com-
panions carried with them a great air of mystery;
why should he not share this a little with them?
He had let the matter drop.
But now, since he was considered to be a mem-
ber of a secret service organization, he prepared
to act the part for one night at least. With the
wolf skin parka hood drawn well around his
face, he would hardly be recognized, garbed as
he was in borrowed clothes.
The mysterious Russian had adopted a plan of
sending his dogs to some outpost to be cared for
by natives. This made the locating of the igloo
he occupied extremely difﬁcult. It had been by
the merest chance that Johnny had caught a
glimpse of him as he disappeared through the
ﬂaps of a dwelling near the center of the village.
The American had resolved to watch that place
and discover, if possible, some additional clues
to the purpose of the Russian.
Skulking from igloo to igloo, Johnny came at
last to the one he sought. Making his way to
_


When an Eskimo Becomes a Jap 99
the back of it, he studied it carefully. There
were no windows and but one entrance. There
was an opening at the top but to climb up there
was to be detected. He crept round to the other
corner. There a glad sigh escaped his lips. A
spot of light shone through the semi-transparent
outer covering of walrus skin. That meant that
there was a hole in the inner lining of deer skin.
He had only to cut a hole through the walrus
skin to get a clear view of the interior. This he
did quickly and silently.
He swung his arm in disgust as he peered in-
side. Only an old Chukche woman sat in the
corner, chewing and sewing at a skin boot sole.
Johnny hesitated. Had he mistaken the igloo?
Had the Russian purposely misled him? He was
beginning to think so, when his eye caught the
end of a sleeping bag protruding from a pile of
deer skins. This he instantly recognized as
belonging to the Russian.
" Evidently our friend is out. Then I’ll wait,”
he whispered to himself.
He had been there but a few moments, when
the native woman, putting away her work, went
out. She had scarcely disappeared through the
.._,,,,. ‘I
lli
iii;-3‘; i Qjéi ~
W
fa?
ill!
Ill
ii
1..
‘l
1!
ll
‘.
It
I.
4


100 Triple Spies
ﬂap than a dark brown streak shot into the room.
As Johnny watched it, he realized that it was a
small woman, and, though her clothing was un-
familiar, he knew by certain quick and peculiar
movements that this was the Jap girl.
Ah ha! Now, perhaps, he should learn some
things. Perhaps after all these three were in
league; perhaps they were all Radicals with a
common purpose, the destruction of all organ-
ized society; Japanese Radicals are not at all
uncommon.
But what was this the Jap girl was doing?
She had overturned the pile of deer skins and was
attempting to reach to the bottom of the Russian’s
sleeping bag. Failing in this, she gave it a num-
ber of punches. With a keen glance toward the
entrance she at last darted head foremost into the
bag, much as a mouse would have gone into a
boot
She came out almost at once. Her hands were
empty. Evidently the thing she sought was not
there. Next she attacked a bundle, which Johnny
recognized as part of the Russian’s equipment.
She had examined this and was about to put it
in shape again when there came the faint shuﬂle


Wherg art Eskimo Becomes a Jap 101
of feet at the entrance. With one wild look about
her, she darted to the pile of deer skins and dis-
appeared beneath it.
She was not a moment too soon, for instantly
the sharp chin and the sullen brow of the
Russian appeared at the entrance.
When he saw the bundle in disorder, he
sprang to the center of the room. His hand
on his belt, he stared about the place for a
second, then much as a cat springs at a tuft
of grass where a mole is concealed, he sprang
at the pile of deer skins. ' g
Johnny’s lips parted, but he uttered not a
sound. He hand gripped the blue automatic.
If the Russian found her, there would be no
more Russian, that was all.
But to his intense surprise, he saw that as
the man tore angrily at the pile, he uncovered
nothing but skins.
Johnny smothered a sigh of relief which was
mixed with a gasp of admiration. The girl
was clever, he was obliged to admit that. In a
period only of seconds, she had cut away the
rope which bound the skin wall to the ﬂoor
and had crept under the wall to freedom.


When an Eskimo Becomes a Jap 103
~‘ _?_
laws and modes of punishment all its own, and,
if the Russian succeeded in making his way to
America and if he, Johnny, did not give proper
account of these diamonds, sooner or later,
punishment would be meted out to him, and that
not the least written in the code of the Radical
world.
He dismissed the subject from his mind for
the time and gave his whole attention to the
Russian. But that gentleman, after evincing
hisexceeding displeasure by kicking his sleep-
ing bag about the room for a time, at last
removed his outer garments, crept into the bag
and went to sleep.
One other visit Johnny made that night. As
the result of it he did not sleep for three hours
after he had let down the deer skin curtain to
his sleeping compartment.
“Hanada! Hanada?” he kept repeating to
himself. “ Of all the Japs in all the world! To
meet him here! And not to have known him.
It’s preposterous.”
Johnny had gone to the igloo now occupied
by Iyok-ok. He had gone, not to spy on his
friend, but to talk to him about recent develop-


104 Triple Spies _
ments and to ascertain, if possible, when they
would cross the Strait. He had got as far as
the tent ﬂaps, had peered within for a few
moments and had come away again walking as
a man in his dream.
What he had seen was apparently not so
startling either. It was no more than the boy
with his parka off. But that was quite enough.
Iyok-ok was dressed in a suit of purple pajamas
and was turned half about in such a manner
that Johnny had seen his right shoulder. On it
was a three-cornered, jagged scar.
This scar had told the story. The boy was
not an Eskimo but a Jap masquerading as an
Eskimo. Furthermore, and this is the part
which gave Johnny the start, this Jap was none
other than Hanada, his schoolmate of other
days; a boy to whom he owed much, perhaps
his very life.
“ Hanada! ” he repeated again, as he turned
beneath the furs. How well he remembered
that ﬁght. Even then— it was his ﬁrst year in
a military preparatory school—he had shown
his tendencies to develop as a featherweight
champion. And this tendency had come near


When an Eskimo Becomes a Jap 105
to ending his career. The military school was
one of those in which the higher classmen treated
the beginners rough. Johnny had resented this
treatment and had been set upon by four husky
lads in the darkness. He had settled two of
them, knocked them cold. But the other two had
got him down, and were beating the life out of
him when this little Jap, Hanada, had appeared
on the scene. Being also a ﬁrst year student,
he had come in with his ju'jut’su and between
them they had won the battle, but not until the
Jap had been hung over a picket fence with a
jagged wound in his shoulder. It was the scar
of that wound Johnny had seen and it was that
scar which had told him that this must be
Hanada. _
He smiled now, as he thought how he had
taken Hanada to his room after that boy’s bat-
tle and had attempted to sew up the cut with an
ordinary needle. He smiled grimly as he thought
of the ﬁght and how he had resolved to win or
die. Hanada had helped him win.
And here he had been traveling with the
Japanese days on end and had not recognized
him. And yet it was not so strange. He had


106 Triple Spies
not seen him for six years. Had Hanada rec-
ognized him? If he had, and Johnny found it
hard to doubt it, then he had his own reasons
for keeping silent. Johnny decided that he
would not be the ﬁrst to break the silence. But
after all there was a strange new comfort in
the realization that here was one among all
these strangers whom he could trust implicitly.
And Hanada would make a ‘capital companion
with whom he might cross the thirty-ﬁve miles
of drifting, piling ice which still lay between
him and America. It was the contemplation of
these realities which at last led him to the land
of dreams.


108 Triple Spies
belongs to the tribe. They own it in common.
If I kill a white bear, a walrus or a reindeer, it
doesn’t all go in my storehouse. I pass it round.
It goes to the tribe. So does every other form
of wealth they have. Nothing belongs to any-
one. Everything belongs to everybody. So,
when my old friend gets too old to hunt, ﬁsh
or mend nets, he basks in the sun and needn’t
worry about anything at all. Pretty soft. Per-
haps our friend the Russian is not so far wrong
after all if he’s a communist.”
“ Uh-hu,” the Jap grunted; then he exclaimed,
“That reminds me, Terogloona, the_Chukche
who lives three doors from here, asked me to
tell you to stay out of his igloo this afternoon.”
“ Why? ”
The Jap merely shrugged his shoulders.
“ I have a way of doing what I am told not
to, you should—” Johnny was about to say,
“you should know that,” but checked himself
in time.
“ Better not go,” warned Hanada as he turned
away.
After an early noon lunch Johnny strolled up
the hill top. He wanted to get a view of the


J oh/nny ’s Free-for-All 109
Strait. On particularly clear days, Cape Prince
of Wales on the American side of Behring
Strait can be seen from East Cape in Siberia.
This day was clear, and, as Johnny climbed, he
saw more and more of the peak as it lay across
the Strait, above the white ice ﬂoes.
With trembling ﬁngers he drew a one dollar
bill from his pocket and spread it on his knee.
“There it is,” he whispered. “There’s the
place where you came from, little old one-spot.
And I am going to take you back there. The
Wandering Jew once stood here and saw his
sweetheart in a mirage on the other side. He
was afraid to cross. But he only had a sweet-
heart to call him. We’ve got that and a lot
more. We’ve got a country calling us, the
brightest, the best country on the map. And
we dare try to go back. Once that dark line of
water disappears we’ll be going.”
Then questions began to crowd his brain.
Would Hanada attempt the Strait at this time?
What was his game anyway? Was he a mem-
ber of the Japanese secret service detailed to
follow the Russian, or was he traveling of his
own accord? Except by special arrangement


110 Triple Spies
Japanese might not come to America. Was
Hanada sneaking back this way? It did not
seem like him. Perhaps he would not cross at
all.
Johnny’s eyes once more swept the broad
expanse of drifting ice. Then his gaze became
riveted on one spot. The band of black water
had narrowed to a ribbon. This meant an on-
shore wind. Soon they would be able to cross
from the solid shore ice to the drifting ﬂoe.
Surely there could be no better time to cross the
Strait. With the air clear and wind light, the
crossing might be made in safety.
Even as he looked, Johnny saw a man leap
the gap. Curiosity caused him to watch this
man, whom he had taken for a Chukche hunter.
Now he appeared, now disappeared, only to
reappear again round an ice pile. But he be-
haved strangely for a hunter. Turning neither
to right nor left, except to dodge ice piles, he
forged straight ahead, as if guided by a com-
pass. Soon it became apparent that he was
starting on the trip across the Strait. Chuk-
ches did not attempt this journey. They had
not sufﬁcient incentive. Could it be the Russian?


Johnny ’s Free-for-All 111
Iohnny decided he must hurry down and tell
Hanada. But, even as he rose, he saw a second
person leap across the gap in the ice. This
one at once started to trail the ﬁrst man. There
could be no mistaking that youthful springing
step. It was Hanada in pursuit.
With cold perspiration springing out on his
forehead, Johnny sat weakly down. He was
being left behind, left behind by his friend, his
classmate, the man who above all men he had
thought could be depended upon. How could he
interpret this?
For a time Johnny sat in gloomy silence, try-
ing to form an answer to the problem; trying
also to map out a program of his own.
Suddenly he sprang to his feet. He had
remembered that there was some sort of party
down in the village, which he had been invited
not to attend, and he had meant to go. Per-
haps it was not too late if he hurried. He raced
down the hill and straight to the igloo he had
been warned against entering. A strapping
young buck was standing guard at the ﬂaps.
“ No go,” he said as ]ohnny approached.
“ Go,” answered Johnny.


112 Triple Spies
“ No go,” said the native, his voice rising.
“ Go,” retorted Johnny quietly.
He moved to pass the native. The latter put
his hand out, and the next instant felt himself
whirled about and shot spinning down the short
steep slope which led from the igloo entrance.
Johnny’s good right arm had done that.
As the American lad pushed back the ﬂaps
of the igloo and entered he stared for one brief
second. Then he let out a howl and lunged for-
ward. Before him, in the center of the igloo
stood the old man who had been so peacefully
smoking his pipe two hours before. He was
now standing on a box which raised him some
three feet from the ﬂoor. About his neck was
a skin rope. The rope, a strong one, was fas-
tened securely to the cross poles of the igloo. A
younger man had been about to kick the box
away.
This same younger man suddenly felt the jar
of something hard. It struck his chin. After
that he felt nothing.
The ﬁght was on. There were a dozen
natives in the room. A brawny buck with a
livid scar on his right cheek lungeid at Johnny.


J oh/n/n.y’s Free-for-All 113
He speedily joined his friend in oblivion. A
third man leaped upon Johnny’s back. Johnny
went over like a bucking pony. Finally landing
feet ﬁrst upon the other’s abdomen, he left him
to groan for breath. A little fellow sprang
at him. Johnny opened his hand and slapped
him nearly through the skin wall. They came;
they went; until at last, very much surprised and
quite satisﬁed, they allowed Johnny to cut the
skin rope and help his old blind friend down.
A boy poked his head in at the ﬂap. He had
been a whaler and could speak English. He
surveyed the room in silence for a moment,
taking in each prostrate native.
“ Now you have spoiled it,” he told Johnny
with a smile.
“ I should say myself that I’d messed things
up a bit,” Johnny admitted, “but tell me what
it’s all about. What did the poor old cuss do?”
“ Do? ” the boy looked puzzled. “ That one
do?”
“ Sure. What did they want to hang him
for? He was too old and feeble to do any-
thing very terrible; besides he’s blind.”
“Oh,” said the boy smiling again. “He


114 Triple Spies
done not anything. Too old, that why. No
work. All time eat. Better dead. That way
think all my people. All time that way.”
Johnny looked at him in astonishment, then
he said slowly:
“I guess I get you. In this commune, this
tribe of yours, everyone does the best he can
for the gang. When he is too old to work,
ﬁsh or hunt, the best thing he can do is die,
so you hang him. Am I right?”
“Sure a thing,” replied the boy. “That’s
just it.”
Johnny shot back: _
“ No enjoying a ripe old age in this commune
business?”
“ No. Oh, no.”
“Then I’m oﬁ’ this commune stuﬁ‘ forever,”
exclaimed Johnny. “ The old order of things
like we got back in the States is good enough
for me. And, I guess it’s not so old after all.
It’s about the newest thing there is. This
commune business belongs back in the stone age
when primitive tribes were all the organizations
there were.”
" He had addressed this speech to no one in


Johnny ’s Free-for-All 115
particular. He now turned to the boy, a black
frown on his brow.
“See here,” he said sharply, “this man, no
die, See? Live. See? All time live, see? No
kill. You tell those guys that. Tell them I
mebby come back one winter, one summer.
Come back. Old man dead. I kill three of
them. See?”
Johnny took out his automatic and played with
it longingly. _
“ Tell them if they don’t act as if they mean
to do what I say, I’ll shoot them now, three
of them.” _
The boy interpreted this speech. Some of the
men turned pale beneath their brown skins; some
shifted uneasily. They all answered quickly.
“They say, all right,” the boy explained
solemnly. “ Say that one, if had known you
so very much like old man, no want-a hang
that one.”
“ All right.” Johnny smiled as he bowed
himself out. ‘
It was the ﬁrst near-hanging he had ever
attended and he hoped it would be the last.
But as he came out into the clear afternoon


116 Triple Spies
air he drank in three full breaths, then said,
slowly:
“Communism! Bah! ”
Hardly had he said this than he began to
realize that he had a move coming and a speedy
one. He was in the real, the original, the
only genuine No Man’s Land in the World.
He was under the protection of no ﬂag. The
only law in force here was the law of the tribe.
He had violated that law, deﬁed it. He actually,
for the moment, had set himself up as a dictator.
“ Gee!” he muttered. “ Wish I had time to
be their king! ”-
But he didn’t have time, for in the ﬁrst place,
all the pangs of past homesick days were re-
turning to urge him across the Strait; In the
second place the mystery of the“Russian and
Hanada’s relation to him was calling for that
action. And, in the third place, much as he
might enjoy being king of the Chukches, he was
quite sure he would never be offered that job.
There would be reactions from this day’s busi-
ness. The council of headmen would be called.
Johnny would be discussed. He had com-
mitted an act of diplomatic indiscretion. He


Johnny ’s Free-for-All 117
might be asked to leave these shores; and then
again an executioner might be appointed for
him, and a walrus lance‘ thrust through his
back.
Yes, he would move. But ﬁrst he must see
the Jap girl and ask about her plans. It would
not do to desert her. Hurrying down the
snow path, he came upon her at the entrance
to her igloo.
Together they entered, and, sitting cross-
legged on the deer skins by the seal oil lamp,
they discussed their futures.
The girl made a rather pitiful ﬁgure as she
sat there in the glow of the yellow light. Much
of her splendid “pep” seemed to have oozed
away. _
As Johnny questioned her, she answered quite
frankly. No, she would not attempt to cross
the Strait on the ice. It would be quite danger-
ous, and, beside, she had promised to stay. She
did not say the promise had been made to
Hanada but Johnny guessed that. Evidently
they had thought the Russian might return.
She told her American friend that she was
afraid that her mission in the far north had


118 Triple Spies
met with failure. She would not tell what that
mission was, but admitted this much: she had
once been very rich, or her family had. Her
father had been a merchant living in one of the
inland cities of Russia. The war had come
and then the revolution. The revolutionists
had taken all that her father owned. He had
died from worry and exposure, and she had
been left alone. Her occupation at present was,
well, just what he saw. She shrugged her
shoulders and said no more.
Johnny with his natural generosity tried to
press his roll of American money upon her.
She refused to accept it, but gave him a rare
smile. She had money enough for her immedi-
ate need and a diamond or two. Perhaps when
the Strait opened up she would come by gasoline
schooner to America. _
Her mention of diamonds made Johnny jump.
He instantly thought of the diamonds in his
pocket. Could it be that her father had con-
verted his wealth into diamonds and then had
been robbed by the Radical revolutionist? He
was on the point of showing the diamonds to
her when discretion won the upper hand. He
_1‘


J 0hrmy’s Free-for-All 119
thought once more of the cruel revenges meted
out by these Radicals. Should he give the dia-
monds to one to whom they did not belong, the
penalty would be swift and sure.
Johnny did, however, press into her hand a
card with his name and a certain address in
Chicago written upon it and he did urge her to
come there should she visit America.
He had hardly left the igloo when a startling
question came to his mind. Why had the
Russian gone away without further attempt to
recover the treasure now in Johnny’s possession?
He had indeed twice searched the American’s
igloo in his absence and once had made an
unsuccessful attack upon his person. He had
gained nothing. The diamonds were still safe
in Johnny’s pocket.’ What could cause the man
to abandon them? Here, indeed, must be one
of the big men of the cult, perhaps the master
of them all.‘
With this thought came another, which left
Johnny cold. The cult had spies and avengers
everywhere. They were numerous in the United
States. They could afford to wait. Johnny
could be trusted to cross the Strait soon. There


120 Triple S pies
would be time enough then. His every move
would be watched, and when the time was ripe
there would be a battle for the treasure.
That night, by the light of the glorious Arctic
moon Iohnny found his way across the solid
shore ice and climbed upon the drifting ﬂoes,
which were even now shifting and slowly piling.
He was on his way to America. Perhaps he
was the ﬁrst American to walk from thei old
world to his native land. Certainly, he had
never attempted thirty-ﬁve miles of travel which
was fraught with so many perils.
\
S


CHAPTER X
THE JAP GIRL IN PERIL
Hardly had Johnny made his way across the
shore ice and begun his dangerous journey
when things of a startling nature began to
happen to the Jap girl.
She was seated in her igloo sewing a gar-
ment of eider duck skins, when three rough-
looking Chukches entered and, without cere-
mony, told her by signs that she must accom-
pany them.
She was conducted to the largest igloo in the
village. This she found crowded with natives,
mostly men. She was led to the center of
the ﬂoor, which was vacant, the natives being
ranged round the sides of the place.
Instantly her eyes searched the frowning
faces about her for a clue to this move. She
soon found it. In the throng, she recognized
ﬁve of the reindeer Chukches, members of that
121


122 Triple Spies
band which had attempted to murder Johnny
Thompson and herself.
p Their presence startled her. That they would
make their way this far north, when their
reindeer had been sent back by paid messengers
some days before, had certainly seemed very
improbable both to Johnny and to the girl.
Evidently the Chukches were very revengeful
in spirit or very faithful in the performance of
murders they had covenanted to commit. At any
rate, here they were. And the girl did not de-
ceive herself, this was a council chamber. She
did not doubt for a moment that her sentence
would be death. Her only question was, could
there be a way of escape? The wall was lined
with dusky forms this time. The entrance was
closely guarded. Only one possibility offered;
above her head, some ﬁve feet, a strong raw-
hide rope crossed from pole to pole of the igloo.
Directly above this was the smoke hole. She
had once entered one of these when an igloo was
drifted over with snow.
The solemn parley of the council soon began.
Like a lawyer presenting his case, the headman
of the reindeer tribe stood before them all and


The Jap Girl in Peril 125'
with many gestures told his story. At intervals
in his speech two men stepped forward for exam-
ination. The jaw of one of them was very stiff
and three of his teeth were gone. As to the
other, his face was still tied up in bandages of
tanned deer skin. His jaw was said to be
broken. The Jap girl, in spite of her peril,
smiled. Johnny had done his work well.
There followed long harangues by other
members of the reindeer tribe. The last speech
was made by the headman of East Cape. It
was the longest of all.
At length a native boy turned to the Jap girl
and spoke to her in English.
“They say, that one; they say all; you die.
What you say?”
“ I say want —a — die,” she replied smiling.
This answer, when interpreted, brought forth
many a grunt of surprise.
“ They say, that one! they say all,” the boy
went on, “how you want—a die? Shoot?
Stab? ”
“ Shoot.” She smiled again, then, “ But ﬁrst
I do two thing. I sing. I dance. My people
alletime so.”


124 Triple Spies
“ Ki-ke ” (go ahead) came in a chorus when
her words had been interpreted.
No people are fonder of rhythmic motion and
dreamy chanting than are the natives of the
far north. The keen-witted Japanese girl had
learned this by watching their native dancing.
She had once visited an island in the Paciﬁc
and had learned while there a weird song and
a wild, whirling dance.
Now, as she stood up she kicked from her
feet the clumsy deer skin boots and, from be-
neath her parka extracted grass slippers light
as silk. Then, standing on tip toe with arms
outspread, like a bird about to ﬂy, she bent her
supple body forward, backward and to one side.
Waving her arms up and down she chanted in
a low, monotonous and dreamy tone.
All eyes were upon her. All ears were alert
to every note of the chant. Great was the
Chukche who learned some new chant, intro-
duced some unfamiliar dance. Great would he
be who remembered this song and dance when
this woman was dead.
The tones of the singer became more distinct,
her voice rose and fell. Her feet began to


The Jap Girl in Peril 125
. -—rqn“Q|
move, slowly at ﬁrst, then rapidly and yet more
rapidly. Now she became an ‘animated voice
of stirring chant, a whirling personiﬁcation of
rhythm.
And now, again, the song died away; the
motion grew slower and slower, until at last
she stood before them motionless and panting.
“ Ke-ke! Ke-ke! ” (More! More!) they
shouted, in their excitement, forgetting that this
was a dance of death. .
Tearing the deer skin parka from her shoul-
ders and standing before them in her purple
pajamas, she began again the motion and the
song. Slow, dreamy, fantastic was the dance
and with it a chant as weird as the song of the
north wind. “ Woo-woo-woo.” It grew in
volume. The motion quickened. Her feet
touched the ﬂoor as lightly as feathers. Her
swaying arms made a circle of purple about her.
Then, as she spun round and round, her whole
body seemed a purple pillar of ﬁre.
At that instant a strange thing happened.
As the natives, their minds completely absorbed
by the spell of the dance, watched and listened,
they saw the purple pillar rise suddenly toward


126 Triple Spies
the ceiling. Nor did it pause, but mounting
straight up, with a vaulting whirl disappeared
from sight.
Overcome by the hypnotic spell of the dance,
the natives sat motionless for a moment. Then
the bark of a dog outside broke the spell. With
a mad shout: “ Pee-le-uk-tuk Pee-le-uk-tuk! ”
(Gone! Gone!) they rushed to the entrance,
trampling upon and hindering one another in
their haste.
* * * * *
When Johnny reached the piling ice, on his
way across the Strait, he at ﬁrst gave his entire
attention to picking a pathway. Indeed this
was quite necessary, for here a great pan of
ice, thirty yards square and eight feet thick,
glided upon another of the same tremendous
proportions to rear into the air and crumble
down, a ponderous avalanche of ice cakes and
snow. He must leap nimbly from cake to cake.
He must take advantage of every rise and fall
of the heaving swells which disturbed the great
blanket winter had cast upon the bosom of the
deep.
All this Johnny knew well. Guided only by


130 Triple Spies
for no more molasses and ﬂour remained in the
village. This last drunken madness would be
the most terrible of all. She told him ﬁnally of
the igloo where all the men had gathered.
Johnny pondered a while in silence. He was
forever taking over the troubles of others. How
could he help this girl, and save himself from
harm? What could he do anyway? One could
not steal four gallons of liquor before thirty
or forty pairs of eyes.
Suddenly, an idea came to him. Begging a
cigaret from the native beauty, he lighted it
and gave it three puﬁs. No, Johnny did not
smoke. He was merely experimenting. He
wanted to see if it would make him sick. Three
puffs didn’t, so having begged another “pill”
and two matches he left the room saying:
“ I’ll take a look.”
* * * * *
When the Jap girl leaped through the smoke
hole of the igloo at East Cape she rolled like
a purple ball oﬁ? the roof. Jumping to her feet
she darted down the row of igloos. Pausing
for a dash into an igloo, she emerged a moment
later bearing under one arm a pile of fur gar-


The Jap Girl in Peril 131
ments and under the other some native hunting
implements. Then she made a dash for the
shore ice.
It was at this juncture that the ﬁrst Chukche
emerged from the large igloo. At his heels
roared the whole gang. Like a pack of blood-
thirsty hounds, they strove each one to keep
ﬁrst place in the race. Their grimy hands
itched for a touch of that ﬂying girlish ﬁgure.
Though she was a good quarter mile in the
lead she was hampered by the articles she car-
ried. Certain young Chukches, too, were noted
for their speed. Could she make it? There
was a full mile of level, sandy beach and quite
as level shore ice to be crossed before she could
reach the protection of the up-turned and
tumbled ice farther out to sea.
On they came. Now their cries sounded more
distinctly; they were gaining. Now she heard
the hoarse gasps of the foremost runner; now
imagining that she felt his hot breath on her
cheek she redoubled her energy. A grass slip-
per ﬂew into the air. She ran on barefooted
over the stinging ice.
Now an ice pile loomed very near. With a


132 _ Triple Spies
ﬁnal dash she gained its shelter. With a whirl
she darted from it to the next, then to the right,
straight ahead, again to the right, then to the
left. But even then she did not pause. She
must lose herself completely in this labyrinth of
up-ended ice cakes.
Five minutes more of dodging found her far
from the shouting mob, that by this time was
as hopelessly lost as dogs in a bramble patch.
The Jap girl smiled and shook her ﬁst at the
shore. She was safe. Compared to this tangled
wilderness of ice, the Catacombs of Rome were
an open street.
Throwing a fur garment on a cake of ice, she
sat down upon it, at the same time hastily draw-
ing a parka over her perspiring shoulders. She
then proceeded to examine her collection of
clothing. The examination revealed one fawn
skin parka, one under suit of eider duck skin, one
pair of seal skin trousers, two pairs of seal skin
boots, with deer skin socks to match, and one
pair of deer skin mittens. Besides these there
was an undressed deer skin, a harpoon and :1
seal lance.
Not such a bad selection, this, for a moment’s


The Jap Girl in Peril 133


choosing. The principal difficulty was that the
whole outﬁt had formerly belonged to a boy of
fourteen. The Jap girl shrugged her shoulders
at this and donned the clothing without com-
punctions.
When that task was complete she surveyed
herself in an up-ended cake of blue ice and
laughed. In this rig, with her hair closely
plaited to her head, her own mother would have
taken her for a young Chukche boy out for a
hunt
Other problems now claimed her attention.
She was alone in the world without food or
shelter. ‘She dared not return to the village.
Where should she go?
Again she shrugged her shoulders. She was
warmly clad, but she was tired and sleepy.
Seeking out a cubby hole made by tumbled cakes
of ice, she plastered up the cracks between the
cakes with snow until only one opening re-
mained. Then, dragging her deer skin after
her, she crept inside. She half closed the open-
ing with a cake of snow, spread the deer skin
on the ice and curled up to sleep as peacefully
as if she were in her own home.


134 Triple Spies
One little thing she had not reckoned with;
she was now on the drifting ice of the ocean,
and was moving steadily northward at the rate
of one mile an hour.
r
‘L


CHAPTER XI
A FACE IN THE NIGHT
When Johnny left the igloo of the native girl
he made his way directly up the hill for a dis-
tance of a hundred yards. Then, turning, he
took three steps to the right and found himself
facing the entrance to a second stone igloo. That
it was an old one and somewhat out of repair
was testiﬁed to by the fact that light came
streaming through many a crevice between the
stones.
Keeping well away from the entrance, Johnny
took his place near one of these crevices. What
he saw as he peered within would have made
John Barleycorn turn green with envy. A
moonshine still was in full operation. Beneath
a great sheet iron vat a slow ﬁre of driftwood
burned. Extending from the vat was the barrel
of a discarded riﬂe. This riﬂe barrel passed
through a. keg of ice. Beneath the outer end of
135


136 Triple Spies _
the riﬂe barrel was a large copper-hooped keg
which was nearly full of some transparent
liquid. The liquid was still slowly dripping
from the end of the riﬂe barrel.
That the liquid was at least seventy-ﬁve per
cent alcohol Johnny knew right well. That it
would soon cease to drip, he also knew; the ﬁre
was burning low and no more driftwood was
to be seen.
Johnny sized up the situation carefully. Aside
from some crude benches running round its
walls and a cruder table which held the moon-
shine still, the room was devoid of furnishings.
Ranged round the wall, with the benches for
seats, were some thirty men and perhaps
half as many hard-faced native women. On
every face was an expression of gloating
expectancy.
Now and again, a hand holding a small
wooden cup would steal out toward the keg to
be instantly knocked aside by a husky young
fellow whose duty it appeared to be to guard
the hooch.
Iohnny tried to imagine what the result would
be were he suddenly to enter the place. He
___q_


140 Triple Spies
I
caught a face peering at him round an ice pile.
“The Russian,” he exclaimed.
* * * * =0:
When the Jap girl awoke after several hours
of delicious sleep in her ice palace bedroom,
she looked upon a world unknown. The sun
was shining brightly. The air was clear. In a
general way she knew the outline of East Cape
and the Diomede Islands. She knew, too, where
they should be located. It took her some time
to discover them and when she did it was with
a gasp of astonishment. They were behind her.
Realizing at once what had happened, she
stood up and held her face to the air. The
wind was off shore. There was not the least
bit of use in trying to make the land. A stretch
of black waters yawned between shore and ice
ﬂoe by now.
Shrugging her shoulders, she climbed a pile of
ice for a better view, then hurrying down again,
she picked up the harpoon and began puzzling
over it. She coiled and uncoiled the skin rope
attached to it. She worked the rope up and
down through the many buttons which held it
to the shaft. She examined the sharp steel


A Face in the Night 1-11
point of the shaft which was fastened to the
skin rope.
After that she sat down to think. Over to
the left of her she had seen something that lay
near a pool of water. She had never hunted
anything, did not fancy she’d like it, but she
was hungry.
There was a level pan of ice by the pool.
The creature lay on the ice pan. Suddenly she
sprang up and made her way across the ice
piles to the edge of that broad pan. The brown
creature, a ‘seal, still some distance away, did
not move.
Searching the ice piles she at last found a
regularly formed cake some eight inches thick
and two feet square. With some diﬂiculty she
pried this out and stood it on edge. The edge
was uneven, the cake tippy. Rolling iton its
side she chipped it smooth with the point of
the harpoon.
The second trial found the cake standing
erect and solid. Gripping her harpoon, she
threw herself ﬂat on her stomach and pushing
the cake before her, began to wriggle her way
toward the sleeping seal.


142 Triple Spies
Once she paused long enough to bore a peep
hole through the cake with her dagger. From
time to time the seal wakened, and raised his
head to look about. Then he sank down again.
Now she was but three rods away, now two,
now one. Now she was within ten feet of the
still motionless quarry.
Stretching every muscle for a spring like a
cat, she suddenly darted forward. At the next
instant she hurled the harpoon deep into the
seal’s side. She had him! Through her body
pulsated thrills of wild triumph which harkened
back to the days of her primitive ancestry.
Then for a second she wavered. She was a
woman. But she was hungry. Tomorrow she
might be starving.
Her knife ﬂashed. A stream of red began
dyeing the ice. A moment later, the creature’s
muscles relaxed.
The Japanese girl, Cio-Cio-San, sat up and
began to think. Here was food, but how was it
to be prepared? To think of eating raw seal
meat was revolting, yet here on the ﬂoe there
was neither stove nor fuel.
Slowly and carefully she stripped the skin
_._l


A Face in the Night 143
from the carcass. Beneath this she found a
two-inch layer of blubber, which must be more
than ninety per cent oil. Under this was a com-
pact mass of dark meat. This would be good
if it was cooked. She sat down to think again.
The fat seemed to offer a solution. It would
burn if she had matches. She felt over the
parka for pockets, and, with a little cry of joy,
she found in one several matches wrapped in a
bit of oiled seal skin. Every native carried
them.
Hastily she stripped off a bit of fat and hav-
ing lighted it, watched it ﬂare up and burn
rapidly. ‘She laughed and clapped her hands.
But before she could cut off a bit of meat to
roast over its flames, the soft ice began melting
beneath it and the ﬂames ﬂickered out with a
snapping ﬂutter.
This would not do. There must be some other
way found. Rising, she drove her harpoon into
the snow at the crest of an ice pile. To this
she fastened her deer skin, that it might act as
a beacon to guide her back to her food supply.
Then she turned about the ice pile and began
wandering in search of she hardly knew what.
1


144 Triple Spies
She at last came upon some old ice, with cakes
ground round and discolored with age and then
with a little cry of joy she started forward.
The thing she saw had been discarded as worth-
less long ago; some gasoline schooner’s crew
had thrown it overboard. It was an empty ﬁve-
gallon can which had once held gasoline. It was
red with rust, but she pounced upon it and
hurried away.
Once safely back at her lodge she used the
harpoon to cut out a door in the upper end of
the can. After cutting several holes in one side,
she placed it on the ice with the perforated side
up and put a strip of blubber within. This she
lighted. It gave forth a smoky ﬁre, with little
heat, but much oil collected in the can. Seeing
this, she began fraying out the silk ribbon of
her pajamas. When she had secured a sulﬁ-
cient amount of ﬁne fuzz she dropped it along
the edge of the oil which saturated it at once.
She lighted this, which had formed itself into
a sort of wick, and at once she had a clear and
steady ﬂame.
She had solved the problem. In her seal oil
oven, meat toasted beautifully. In half an hour


A Face in the Night 145
she was enjoying a bountiful repast. After the
feast, she sat down to think. She was fed for
the moment and apparently safe enough, but
where was she and whither was she being car-
ried by this drifting ice ﬂoe?
* * * * *
For a second, after seeing the face of the
Russian on the ice, Johnny Thompson stood
motionless. Then he turned and ran, ran madly
out among the ice piles. Heedless of direction
he ran until he was out of breath and exhausted,
until he had lost himself and the Russian com-
pletely.
No, Johnny was not running from the Rus-
sian. He was running from himself. When he
saw the Russian’s face, lit up as it was by the
ﬂare of the ﬂames that had burst forth from
that abandoned igloo, there had been something
so crafty, so cruel, so remorselessly terrible
about it that he had been seized with a mad
desire to kill the man where he stood.
But Johnny felt, rather than knew, that there
were very special reasons why the Russian must
not be killed, at least not at that particular
moment. Perhaps some dark secret was locked


" Get that Man " 149
anything of the Russian. Two things would
seem to indicate that that mysterious fugitive
was in town; three times Johnny had found him-
self being closely watched by certain rough-
looking Russian laborers, and once he had nar-
rowly averted being attacked in a dark street
at night by a gang of the same general character.
Hanada had not yet chosen to reveal his
identity, and Johnny had not questioned him.
Only the day before a placard in the post
ofﬁce had given him a start. It was an adver-
tisement offering a thousand dollars reward for
knowledge which would lead to the arrest of a
certain Russian Radical of much importance.
This man was reported to have made his way
through the Allied front near Vladivostok, and
to have started north, apparently with the inten-
tion of crossing to America. To capture him,
the placard declared, would be an act of practical
patriotism.
Johnny had stared in wonder at the photo-
graph attached. It was the likeness of a nun
much younger than the Russian they had fol-
lowed so far, but there could be no mistaking
that sharp chin and frowning brow. They had


150 Triple Spies
doubtless followed that very man for hundreds
of miles only to lose him at this critical moment.
What had surprised him most of all had been
the jap’s remark, as he read the notice:
“ The blunderer! Wooden-headed blunderer! ”
Hanada had muttered as he read the printed
words.
“Would you take him if you saw him?”
Johnny had asked.
The Jap had turned a strangely inquiring
glance at him, then answered:
“ No! ”
But they had not found him. And now the
ice was going out. Soon ships would be com-
ing and going. Little gasoline schooners would
dash away to catch the cream of the coast-wise
trading; great steamers would bring in coal,
food, and men. In all this busy trafﬁc, how easy
it would be for the Russian to depart unseen.
Johnny sighed. He had grown exceedingly
fond of dogging the track of that man. And
besides, that thousand dollars would come in
handy. He would dearly love to see the man
behind prison bars. There would be no holding
him for crimes he had attempted in Siberia, but
_ L
u_


“ Get that Mam. ” 153
~T ""'ﬁP"‘ W
as the platform lurched backward. The two
men at the other tower had reversed the motor,
but they were too late.
The next moment the outer tower toppled
into the sea; the cable cut the water with a
resounding swish. Johnny saw the Russian
leap from ice cake to ice cake until at last he
disappeared behind a giant pile, safe on a broad
ﬁeld of solid ice.
Hanada sat down. His face was white.
“ Gone!” he muttered hoarsely.
“ A boat?” suggested Johnny.
“No good. The ice ﬂoe’s two miles wide,
forty miles long and all piled up. Couldn’t ﬁnd
him. He’d never give himself up. But he’ll
come back.
“ How? ”
“ I don’t know, but he’ll come. You’ll see.
He’s a devil, that one. But we’ll get him yet.”
“ And the thousand,” suggested Johnny.
Hanada looked at him in disgust. “ A thou-
sand dollars! What is that?”
“ Is it as bad as that? ” Johnny smiled in spite
of himself.
“Yes, and worse, many times worse. I tell
J


154 Triple Spies
you, we must get that man! VVhen the time
comes, we must get him, or it will be worse for
your country and mine.”
“ Ours is the same country,” suggested
johnny.
“Huh!" Hanada shrugged his shoulders.
I am Hanada, your old schoolmate, now a
member of the Japanese Secret Police, and you
are Johnny Thompson. Whatever else you are,
I don’t know. The Russian has left us for a
time. Let’s talk about those old school days,
and forget.”
And they did.
ll
-.n-_i


CHAPTER XIII
BACK TO OLD CHICAGO
In the spring all the ice from upper Behring
Sea passes through Behring Strait. One by
one, like squadrons of great ships, ﬂoes from
the shores of Cape York, Cape Nome and the
Yukon ﬂats drift majestically through that nar-
row channel to the broad Arctic Ocean.
So it happened that in due time the ice ﬂoe
on which the Russian had sought refuge drifted
past the Diomede Islands and farther out, well
into the Arctic Ocean, met the ﬂoe on which the
Jap girl had been lost as it circled to the east.
All ignorant of the passenger it carried, the
girl welcomed this addition to her broad domain
of ice. She had lived on the ﬂoe for days,
killing seal for her food and melting snow to
quench her thirst. But of late the cakes had
begun to drift apart. There was danger that
the great pan on which she had established her-
‘ 155
-I.


156 Triple Spies
self would drift away from the others, and, in
that case, if no seals came, she would starve.
This new ﬂoe crowded upon hers and made the
one on which she camped a solid mass again.
Spying some strange, dark spots on the newly
arrived ﬂoe, she hurried over to the place and
was surprised to ﬁnd that it was a great heap
of rubbish carted from some city. Though she
did not know it, she guessed that city was Nome.
With the keen pleasure of a child she explored
the heaps, selecting here a broken knife, there
a discarded kettle, and again some other utensil
which would help her in setting up a convenient
kitchen.
But it was as she made her way back to her
camp that she received the greatest shock. Sud-
denly, as she rounded a cake of ice, she came
upon a man sprawled upon the ice, as if dead.
The girl took no chances. In the land whence
she came, it was not considered possible that this
man should die. She sprang between two up-
ended cakes, and from this shelter studied him
‘cautiously. Yes, there was no mistaking him;
it was the Russian. A slight movement of one
arm told her he was not dead. VVhether he was


Back to Old Chicago 157
U
unconscious or was sleeping she could not tell.
Presently, after tying her dagger to her waist
by a rawhide cord, she crept silently forward.
An ear inclined toward his face told her that he
was breathing regularly; he was sleeping the
torpid sleep of one worn by exhaustion, ex-
posure and starvation.
Ever so gently she touched him. He did not
move. Then, with one_ hand on her dagger, she
felt his clothing, as if searching for some object
hidden in his fur garments. Her touch was
light as a feather, yet she appeared to have a
wonderful sense of location in the tips of those
small, slender ﬁngers.
Once the man moved and groaned. Light as
a leaf she sprang away, the dagger gleaming in
her hand. There were reasons why she did not
wish to kill that man ; other reasons than the
fact that she was a woman and shrank from
slaying, and yet she was in a perilous position.
Should it come to a choice between killing him
or suffering herself, she would kill him. ‘
Again the man’s body relaxed in slumber.
Again she glided to his side and continued her
search. When at last she straightened up, it
I


Back to Old Chicago 159
infested Strait, her crew half mutinuous, and
her food supply low, was subjected to two veXa-
tious delays. Once she halted to pick up a man
who signaled her from the top of a shattered
tower of wood which topped an ice pile. The
man was a Russian. Again, the boat paused to
take on board a youth, whom they supposed to
be a Chukche hunter who had been carried by
the ﬁoes from his native shores.
The Russian paid them well for his passage
to Seattle. The supposed Chukche was sent to
the galley to become cook’s helper.
This Chukche boy was no other than the Jap
girl. She realized at once the position she was
in; a perilous enough one, once her identity was
disclosed, and she did all in her power to play
the part of a Chukche boy. She drew maps on
the deck to show the seamen that she was a
member of the reindeer Chukche tribes, who
spoke a different language from the hunting
tribes, thus explaining why she could not con-
verse freely with the veteran Arctic sailors who
had learned Chukche on their many voyages.
She was fortunate in immediately securing a
_cook’s linen cap. This she wore tightly drawn
A.


160 Triple Spies
down to her ears, covering her hair completely.
One thing she discovered the ﬁrst night on
board: The Russian had in his stateroom a
bundle. This had been hidden when she searched
him on the ice. To have a look into that bun-
dle became her absorbing purpose. Three times
she attempted to enter his stateroom. On the
third attempt she did actually enter the room,
but so narrowly escaped having her linen mask
torn from her head and her identity revealed by
the irate Russian, that she at last gave it up.
Upon docking at Seattle both the Russian and
the girl mingled with the crowd on the dock and
quickly disappeared.
The clerks in Roman & Lanford’s department
store were more than mildly curious regarding
an Eskimo boy, who, entering their store that
day and displaying a large roll of bills, demanded
the best in women’s wearing apparel. They had
in stock a complete outﬁt, just the size that
would ﬁt the strange customer, who was no other
than the jap girl.
=v= * * =|< *
Johnny Thompson and Hanada, after two
weeks of fruitless watching and waiting in
Jtﬂk


Bach to Old Chicago 161
- .. 1 " ' -_rrr-"r
Nome, took a steamer for Seattle. Johnny had
not been in that city a day when, while walking
toward the Washington Hotel, he felt a light
touch on his arm, and turned to look into the
beaming face of the Jap girl.
“ You — you here? ” he gasped in amazement.
“ Yes.”
“Why! You look grand,” he assured her.
“ Regular American girl.”
She blushed through her brown skin. Then
her face took on a serious look:
“ The Russian — ” she began.
“ Yes, the Russian! ” exclaimed Johnny
eagerly.
“ He is here-.—no, not here. This morning
he takes train for Chicago. To-night we will
follow. We will get that man, you and I, and
— Iyok-ok.” Her lips tripped over the last
word. '
“ Hanada,” Johnny corrected.
“ He has told you?”
“ Yes, he is an old friend.”
“ And mine too. Good! To-night we will go.
We will get that man. Three of us. That bad
one!”
F" ~‘.n-‘wilt


CHAPTER XIV
T HE MYSTERY OF THE CHICAGO
RIVER
Johnny Thompson dodged around a corner
on West Ohio street, then walked hurriedly
down Wells street. At a corner of the building
which shadowed the river from the north he
paused and listened; then with a quick wrench,
he tore a door open, closed it hastily and
silently, ahd was up the dusty stairs like a ﬂash.
At the top he waited and listened, then turning,
made his way up two other ﬂights, walked
down a dark corridor, turned a key in a lock,
threw the door open, closed it after him,
scratched a match, lighted a gas lamp, then
uttered a low “ Whew! ” at the dust that had
accumulated everywhere.
Brushing off a ch‘air, he sat down. For a few
moments he sat there in silent reﬂection. Then
rising, he extinguished the light, threw up the
164 ‘
_{.


166 l Triple Spies
lay power and mystery. The Charles River of
Boston Johnny had seen, and called it a place
of play for college boys. The Seine of Paris
was a thing of beauty, not of power. The Spo-
kane was a noisy blusterer. But the old Chi-
cago was a grim and silent toiler. It bore on
its waters great scows, lake boats, snorting,
smoking tugs, screaming ﬁre boats and police
boats. Then, too, it was a river of mysteries.
Down into its murky depths no eye could peer
to discover the hidden and mysterious burdens
which it carried away toward the Father of
Waters.
Yes, give Johnny the room by the old Chicago!
It was dusty and grim; but tomorrow he would
clean it thoroughly. Just now he wished merely
to sit here and think for an hour.
The time had been when Johnny had not
cared who saw him enter this haven; but to-day
things were dilferent. Since he had got into
this affair with the Russian and his band he had
had a feeling that he was being constantly
watched.
There was little wonder at this, for did he
not carry on his person forty thousand dollars’
.___ as _.__


The Mystery of the Chicago River 167
_'-
worth of rare gems? And did they not belong
to someone else?
“ To whom?” Johnny said the words aloud
as he thought of it.
His mind turned to his Japanese comrades,
the girl and the man. He had told neither of
them about the diamonds. Perhaps he should
have done so, and yet he felt a strange reticence
in the matter. ~
He was to meet Hanada at eight o’clock.
Hanada had never told him why they were pur-
suing the Russian; why he could not be killed in
Siberia; why he must not be killed or arrested
if seen now, until he, Hanada, said the word.
He had not told why he thought that the Secret
Service men had committed a blunder in offer-
ing a reward for the Russian’s capture.
As Johnny thought of it he wondered if he
were a fool for sticking to this affair into which
he had been so blindly led. He had not shown
himself to his old boss or to Mazie. To them
he was dead. He had looked up the ofﬁcial
record that very morning and had seen that he
was reported “ Missing in Vladivostok; prob-
ably dead.”
4


The Mystery of the Chicago River 169
doubt. Cio-Cio-San was staying with friends,
students at the University. It had been ar-
ranged that the three of them should meet at
odd times and various places to discuss matters
relating to their dangerous mission. In this
way they hoped to throw members of the band
of Radicals off their tracks.
Their conversation that night came to little.
Hanada had found no trace of the Russian, nor
had he come into contact with any other im-
portant Radicals since reaching Chicago. John-
ny’s report was quite as brief. Hanada showed
no inclination to reveal more regarding the mat-
ter, and Johnny did not question him. He had
fully determined to see the thing through, cost
what it might.
It was after a roundabout walk through the
deserted streets of the business section of the
city that they came to South Water street. This
street, the noisiest and most crowded of all
Chicago at certain hours, was now as silent and
deserted as a village green at midnight. Here
a late pedestrian hurried down its narrow walk:
there some boatman loitered toward his craft in
the river. But for these the street was deserted.
_ I ..


The Mystery of the Chicago River 171
“ Turned the corner,” panted Johnny.
“ C’mon! ”
Again they dashed ahead, slowing only as
they reached the other street.
Sure enough, halfway down the block they
saw their man. He was walking rapidly toward
the bridge. Quickening their pace they followed.
Distinctly they saw the man go upon the
bridge. Very plainly they heard every footstep
on the echoing planks. Then, just as they were
about to step upon the bridge, the footsteps
ceased.
“ Sh! ” whispered Johnny, bringing his friend
to a halt. “ He’s stopped; maybe laying for us.”
For a minute they stood there. The lapping
of the water was the only sound till, somewhere
in the distance an elevated train rattled its way
north.
“ C’mon,” said Johnny. “ We’ve met that
bird in worse places than this; we can meet him
again.”
But they did not meet him, although they
walked the full length of the bridge. There
was not a place on the whole structure where a
man could hide, but they searched it thoroughly.
L


The Mystery of the Chicago River 173
across that. It came to rest as it glared into
their eyes. It blinked one, two, three times,
then went out.
“ I’m glad they didn’t hold it on us,” breathed
Johnny. “In that light anybody that wanted
to could get a bead on us.”
Hearing heavy, hurrying footsteps approach-
ing, they stood up well back against the iron
braces.
“ Police!” whispered Johnny.
“You fellows shoot?” demanded one of the
policemen as they came up and halted before the
two boys.
“ Nope,” Johnny answered.
“ No stallin’ now.”
“ Search us,” Johnny suggested. “ The shots
were ﬁred at us, though where from, blessed if
I know. Came right out of space. We’d just
searched the bridge from end to end. Not a
soul on it.”
“ What’d y’ search it fer?”
“ A man.”
“ W’at man? ”
“ That’s it,” Johnny evaded. “ We wanted to
know who he was.”
-v=~ -' _..=.._.___


174 Triple Spies
The policemen conversed with one another in
low tones for a moment. ‘
“One of the bullets struck a cross-arm; I
heard it,” suggested Johnny. “ You can look
at that if it’ll be any comfort to you.”
The policeman grunted, then following John-
ny’s ﬂashlight, examined the spot where the
bullet had ﬂaked the paint from the bridge iron.
“ Hurum! ” he grumbled. “That’s queer.
Bullet slid straight up the iron when it struck.
Ordinarily that’d mean she was shot square
against it from below and straight ahead, but
that can’t be, fer that brings her comin’ direct
out of the river, which ain’t human, nor possi-
ble. There wasn’t a boat nor a barge nor even
a plank on the river when the searchlight ﬂashed
from the gray prowler; was there, Mike? ”
“ Not even a cork,” said Mike.
“ Well, anyway, that clears youse guys,”
grunted the leader. “ Now you better beat it.”
Bidding Hanada good night, Johhny walked
across the bridge, around four blocks, then
made a dash for his room. There was dust on
his blankets, but he could shake it off. Any-
way, he probably would not sleep much that
i _
4-‘nli-_


CHAPTER XV
THE CAT CRY OF THE UNDERWORLD
Dodging in front of a street car, Johnny
turned abruptly to the right and trailed a taxi
for half a block; then he shot across the side-
walk to the end of a dark alley. Then he ﬂat-
tened himself against the wall and listened. Yes,
it came at last, the faint thud of cautious foot-
steps. He had not thrown the man off the
scent,
“ Well then, I will,” he muttered, gritting his
teeth. Johnny was a triﬂe out of sorts to-night.
The chase annoyed him.
He dodged down the alley, then up a narrow
court. Prying open the window of an empty
building, he crept in and silently slid the sash
back in its place. Tiptoeing across the hall
with the lightness of a cat, he crept up the
dusty stairs. One, two, three ﬂights he ascended,
then feeling for the rounds of a short ladder,
176
1.4:-


The Cat Cry of the Underworld 177
he climbed still higher, to lift a trapdoor at last
and creep out upon the roof.
Once there he skulked from chimney to chim-
ney until he had crossed the ﬂat roofs of three
buildings. The third had a trapdoor close to
a chimney. This he lifted, then dropped be-
hind him. He was now in his own building.
Panting a little from the exertion, he tiptoed
down the hall, turned the key and entered his
room.
Having made sure that the iron blinds were
closed, he snapped on a light. His eyes, roving
around the room, fell presently upon something
white on the ﬂoor. Johnny could see his own
name scrawled upon it. There were but a few
people in all the world who knew that Johnny
Thompson had ever lived here. Probably all
of those who did know thought him dead and
buried in Russia. VVho had written this note?
Friend or foe?
He tore open the envelope and glanced at the
note. It came to the point with brutal frank-
ness.
“ Johnny Thompson: You are known to
have in your possession rare gems which do
ml


178 Triple Spies
not belong to you. You will please leave them
on the doorstep of 316 North Bird place, and
rap three times before you leave.
“ If not— ”
That was all, save that in place of a signature
there was a splotch of red sealing wax. The
wax had been stamped with an iron seal. The
mark of the seal was that of the Radical Clan
— the same as that on the envelope which con-
tained the diamonds.
“ And that, I suppose,” whispered Johnny to
himself, “means that if I do not leave the
diamonds where I am told to I shall be ﬂattened
out like that drop of wax.”
Switching out the light, he opened the blinds
and took his old seat by the window. He was
at once absorbed in thought. So all his dodg-
ing and twisting had not served to throw them
off his track. They had discovered his den.
And he must give up the diamonds and -
“ If not — ”
Those two words stood out as plainly before
him as if they were ﬂashed forth from an
electric sign on the roof across the river.
He was half minded to give the diamonds up,
L
a__ 43_


180 Triple Spies
hand once more, to speak to her, to assure her
in a score of .ways that he was not dead.
Then Hanada had disappointed him. He had
hoped they would meet again and have another
conference that night; had hoped that the wise
little Jap would have some solution of the mys-
tery of the shots from the river, and the strange
disappearance of the man they had taken to be
the Russian. But Hanada had said “ No.” He
had given no reason; had merely left things
that way. Hanada had been like that always;
he never explained. Perhaps he did have some
other important engagement; then why could
he not tell Johnny of it? Why all this con-
stant enshrouding of affairs in mystery? What
did he, Johnny, know about the whole business
anyway? Not a thing. He was only assured
by the Jap that it was his duty to stick on the
trail of the Russian until it led somewhere in
particular. He was not, in any circumstances,
to have him arrested or killed without ﬁrst
consulting Hanada. _
“ What rot! ”
johnny got up and paced the ﬂoor. Then,
suddenly realizing that there was no longer
u
_--l


The Cat Cry of the Underworld 181
cause for secrecy as to his whereabouts, he
threw on the light and swung a punching bag
down from the wall.
This ancient bit of leather, which had hung
unused for many months, gave forth a volley
of dust at ﬁrst. But soon it was sending
resounding thwacks echoing down the hall from
Johnny’s right and left punch.
Johnny even smiled as he sat down after a
ﬁfteen minutes round with this old friend. He
was greatly pleased at one thing; his left arm
was now quite as good as his right.
As he sat there, still smiling, his eyes fell
on that note which had been thrust under his
door. A strange, wild impulse seized him.
“ So they know where I stay,” he muttered.
“I’ll see how near I can come to ﬁnding out
where they are hiding.” _
Taking the envelope containing the diamonds
from his pocket, he crowded it down into the
depths of his clothing; then, snapping off the
light, he went out.
Hastening down the street and across the
bridge, he was soon threading deserted streets
and dark alleys. In time he came out upon Bird
\
I


182 Triple Spies
place, a half street, ending in a wall. The pas-
sage was narrow, hardly more than an alley.
The night was exceptionally dark and the
place cheerless— just the setting for a crime.
Lights behind drawn shutters were few. Only
the very wretched or very wicked haunted such
habitations.
Hugging the wall, Johnny sidled along toward
316. He knew the spot exactly, for though
Johnny had never been of the underworld, he
had spent many a restless night prowling about
in all parts of the city. Suddenly he ﬂattened
out in a doorway and stood motionless, breath-
ing quietly.
Had he heard the faint pat-pat of footsteps?
Had he caught the dark blue of a shadow on
yonder wall? For a full three minutes he stood
there; then hearing, seeing nothing more, he
glided out and resumed his snake-like journey
toward the door of 316.
. This time he did not go far, for suddenly
looming from dark doorways four huge forms
sprang at him. Johnny understood it all in a
moment. The note was but a trick. They had
not intended to trust him to leave the diamonds.
____ J __,.|hn


The Cat (7!!! Of the Ugll.-d.61‘_w0rld 183
They did not live at 316 at all. They merely
had meant to draw him to this dark alley, then
to “get” him. Well, they would ﬁnd him a
tough nut to crack!
His right shot out, and a heavy bulk crashed
to the pavement. His left swung and missed.
A wild creature sprang at his throat. Johnny’s
mind worked like lightning. Four were too
many. They would get him. He must have
help. The cat cry of the underworld! He had
known that cry two years before. He had many
friends who would answer it. They had intro-
duced themselves at his boxing bouts. They
had liked him because he played a fair game and
“packed a winning wallop.” If any of them
were near they would come to his aid.
Drawing a long breath, he let forth a piercing
scream that rose and fell like the wail of a ﬁre
siren. At the same time he jabbed ﬁercely with
his right. The man collapsed, but at that
instant a third man struck Johnny on the head
and, all but unconscious, he reeled and fell to the
ground.
Faintly as in a dream, he heard guttural
murmurs. He felt the buttons give as his coat


184 Triple Spies
was torn open. Then there came the ringing
report of a shot from the distance.
“ Da bolice! ” came in a guttural mutter.
* * * * *
The reason Hanada would not meet Johnny
on this particular night was that he had a‘press-
ing engagement with other persons. Just at
seven o’clock he might have been seen emerg-
ing from an obscure street. He hailed a taxi-
cab and getting in, drove due north across the
river and straight on until, with a sharp turn
to the right, he drove two blocks toward the
lake, only to turn again to the right and cross
the river again. He had gone south several
blocks when suddenly signaling the driver to
stop, he handed him a ﬁve-dollar bill and darted
into the welcoming portals of a vast hotel.
The next moment he was crossing marble
ﬂoors to enter a heavily carpeted parlor. This,
too, he crossed. Then the walls of the room
seemed to swallow him up.
In a small, dimly lighted anteroom his coat
and hat were taken by a servant. He then
stepped into a room where a round table was
spread with spotless linen and rare silver.
_..vd.


The Cat Cry of the Underworld 185
_
There were ﬁve chairs ranged around the table.
Hanada frowned as he counted them.
“ It seems,” he murmured, “ that the man
who attends to the serving does not know that
Hanada dines with the Big Five to-night. Ah
well! There is time enough and room enough.
We shall dine together; never fear.”
He stepped back in the shadow of the heavy
curtains and waited expectantly.
“The Big Five,” he murmured. “Some of
America’s richest, surely Chicago’s greatest
millionaires. And Hanada dines with them.
They will listen to him, too. They will hang on
his word. The Big Five will listen. And if
they say ‘Yes,’ if they do—” He drew in
his breath sharply. “If they do we will set the
world aﬁre with a great, new thing. They have
the money, which is power, and I have the
knowledge, which is greater power.”
There was a sound outside the door. A serv-
ant entered and, bowing deferentially, moved
toward the table. He deftly rearranged the
chairs and the silver. When he left, there were
six places set. Hanada smiled.
Had one been permitted to look in upon the
i


186 Triple Spies _
\
diners in this simply appointed room of one of
'America’s great hotels that night, he might
have wondered at the manner in which ﬁve of
Chicago’s great men hung upon the words of
one little Japanese, who, now and then as he
spoke, as if to indicate the vastness and gran-
deur of his theme, spread his hands forth in a
broad gesture.
The meal ended, his speech concluded, all
questions answered, he at last rose, and with a
low bow said:
“ And now, gentlemen, I leave the proposi-
tion with you. Please do not forget that it is
a great and glorious venture; a new and glori-
ous empire! An honor to your country and
mine.”
He was gone.
For some time the ﬁve men sat in silence.
Then one of them spoke:
“ Is he mad?”
“Are we all mad? ” questioned a second.
His voice was husky.
“ Well,” said a third, “ it sounds like a dream,
a dream of great possibilities. We must sleep
over it.”
L _.
a-Ii


188 Triple Spies
\
“ Got a gun?” asked Johnny, standing a bit
unsteadily.
“ Two of ’em. C’mon. We ken git de yeggs
yit.”
Johnny grasped the gun held out to him and
the next instant was following the strangely
swift rat of the waterfront.
“ Dere dey go! ” exclaimed the little fellow.
Down an alley they rushed, then out on a
broad, but dimly lighted street. They were
gaining on the gang. ‘ They would overhaul
them. There would be a battle. Johnny ﬁgured
this out as he ran, and tried to discover the
mechanism of his weapon.
But at that juncture the pursued ones dashed
through an open window of a deserted building
which ﬂanked the river.
“Dere dey go! De cheap sluggers!”
exclaimed Jerry. _
Leaping across the street, he reached the
window only a moment after the last of the
four had slammed it down.
But the men had paused long enough to
throw the catch. It took Jerry a full minute
to break its grip.
Jig


190 Triple Spies
Johnny smiled. “ They were trying to croak
me, Jerry, and they nearly did it. Got a bump
on my head big as a turkey buzzard’s egg.”
“ Who wuz dey? ”
“That’s what I don’t know altogether. Say,
Jerry, are there some tough characters hanging
around the river these days that ain’t regular
crooks? ”
“ Is dey? Dere’s a mess of ’em! ”
“ Where do they stay? ” asked Johnny eagerly.
“Dat’s it.” The little fellow scratched his
head. “ I bin skulkin’ ‘round ’em to ﬁnd out.
Sometimes I follers ’em, like now. Dey always
drop out like this. Dey’s queer. Dey ain’t
regular crooks, nor regular guys either. Dey’s
cookin’ soup for sump’n big.”
“ That’s what I think,” said Johnny. “ What
are they like?
“ Dey’s ﬁve Roosians, three Heinies, one Wop,
an’ one Jap, I seen.”
“ Say, Jerry,” said Johnny suddenly, “ do you
want to earn some honest money?”
“ Not work? ”
“ No, spyin’.”
“ Not on me pals? Not on regular crooks?”
L
T
*“"'-‘Int_


The Cat Cry of the Underworld 191
‘( U
No, on these queer ones.
“I’m on. Wot’s de lay? ”
“ Find where they stay. Hunt them day and
night till you do. Here’s a twenty. There’s
more where that came from. There’s a century
note if you get them. Get me?” _
The Rat ducked his head in assent.
“ Then good night.”
“Night,” he mumbled.
They were out of the building now and
Johnny made his way cautiously back to his
room. He had had quite enough for one night.
Once he paused to thrust his hand beneath his
vest. Yes, the diamonds were still there. His
assailants had not had time to ﬁnd them. He
was not sure whether he was glad or sorry.
L-I *' j


Cio-Cio-San Betrayed 193
be found in fresh water he knew quite well.
And he had never in his life noticed that glow
in the river.
Now, as he surveyed the surroundings, he
realized that the light could not have been re-
ﬂected from any illumination in street or build-
ing. The glow from the water had appeared
close to the wall of the empty building through
which his four assailants of the night before
had made good their escape.
As he stood there, slouching in the shadows,
Johnny gave a great start; the light had ap-
peared again. Beyond question it was beneath
the water, not shining upon it. From this van-
tage point the light seemed stronger. It
appeared for a few seconds, then disappeared
again. Johnny scratched his head. What could
it mean? For some time he stood in a brown
study, then he laughed silently to himself.
“ Probably phosphorescent substances being
sent out from the drainpipe of a factory or
chemical laboratory,” he decided.
At that instant he was all alert. His hand
closed on his automatic. A stealthy footfall had
sounded on the bridge.
AI


194 Triple Spies
“Oh! It’s you,” he whispered a moment
later.
Hanada grinned as he gripped Johnny’s hand.
“ Thought I might miss you,” he whispered.
The two were soon engaged in animated con-
versation. Their talk had to do with _Iohnny’s
adventure of the night before and the informa-
tion regarding the Radicals furnished by Jerry
the Rat. Hanada appeared unduly excited at
the news.
“It seems,” said Johnny, “that there must
be a national conference of Radicals meeting
somewhere near this river. Perhaps our old
friend, the Russian of Vladivostok, is a dele-
gate.” _
Hanada shot him a swift glance, as if to say:
How much do you know about this matter
anyway?”
But for some time the Japanese did not speak;
then it was concerning an entirely different
affair. Cio-Cio-San had been visited by a fellow
countryman who, although wholly unknown to
her, had appeared to know a great deal about
her private business. He had informed her that
she had, within the last year, been robbed of
(S
_~ i


Cio-Cio-San Betrayed 197
of the night before, nor did he now as they
were about to part.
"Dull and heavy, there came the tread of feet
on the bridge.
“ The police! ” whispered Johnny.
Hanada seemed distinctly nervous.
As the two patrolmen came abreast of them
one of them ﬂashed his light.
Hanada cringed into the shadows.
“ Well,” said a deep voice, “ here’s luck!
Youse guys come with us. Youse guys is
wanted at the station."
“ Vl/‘hat for?” Johnny demanded.
“Youse guys know well enough. Treason,
they call it.”
“Treason?” Johnny gave a happy laugh.
“Treason? They’ll have hard work to prove
that.”
* * * * *
Had one been privileged to see Cio-Cio-San
at the moment Johnny Tompson and his friend
were arrested, he might easily have imagined
that she was back in Japan. The room in which
she paced anxiously back and forth was Iapanese
to the ﬁnal detail. The ﬂoor was covered thickly
L


200 Triple Spies
willingly surrender it to her, providing only he
could be made certain that it was to go directly
into her hands. That this might be, he de-
manded that she meet him at a certain place
known to the strange Japanese. There she
might prove her property. The story did seem
plausible—and her need was great. Soon she
would be cast out upon the world without a
penny. So long as she had money she was wel-
come at this club; not longer.
There came the purring of a mufﬂed bell in
the hall. He had come.
Should she go? A mood of reckless despera-
tion seized her.
“ I will,” she declared.
The next instant she was tucking a short,
gleaming blade beneath her silk middy and then
drawing on a long silk coat.
The man waited in the hallway. He was
doubtless prepared for another extended argu-
ment, but none came. Instead, the girl walked
down the steps with him and into a waiting taxi.
It was a rather long ride they took. First
speeding along between rows of apartment
houses they at last dashed into the business sec-
_I _


CHAPTER XVII
A THREE-CORNERED BATTLE
While Johnny and Hanada were being led
away to the patrol box a young man came run-
ning up. He was a reporter, out scouting for
news.
“Who’s that?” he asked, as he caught a
glimpse of Johnny’s face.
“Johnny Thompson, you nut!” growled the
policeman. “ Didn’t you never view that map
of his before?”
“ Yes, but Johnny Thompson’s dead.”
“ All right, have it your own way.”
“What’s the charge?”
“ Conspiracy. Now beat it.”
The youth started on a run for the nearest
telephone. He had hit upon a ﬁrst page story.
A half-hour later every newsboy in the down-
town district was shouting himself hoarse, and
the words he shouted were these:
202
xx
I _
__.__u_J


204 Triple Spies
With an effort she made her way to a restaurant
where a cup of black coffee revived her.
For a time she sat in a daze, utterly oblivious
of the ﬁgure she cut — a well dressed, handsome
young woman in opera cloak and silk gown,
seated at the counter of a cheap restaurant.
Johnny Thompson alive, here in Chicago,
arrested for conspiracy? What did it mean?
Could it mean that Johnny had been a deserter,
that he had become involved in the radical move-
ment which, coming from Russia, seemed about
to sweep the country off its feet? She could not
quite believe that, but—
Suddenly anew thought sent her hurrying
into the street. Hailing a taxi, she ordered the
chauffeur to drive around the block until she
gave him further orders. Her thoughts now
were all shaped toward a deﬁnite end: Johnny
Thompson, her good pal, was not dead. He was
in Chicago and in trouble. If it were within her
power, she must ﬁnd him and help him.
Studying the newspaper, she noted the point
at which he had been arrested. “Wells street
bridge," she read. “That means the Madison
Street police station.” _
_._.__ _ l _


A Three-Cornered Battle 205
Her lips were at the speaking tube in an
instant. “ Madison Street police station, and
hurry!” she ordered. “An extra ﬁve for
speed.” The taxi whirled around a corner on
two wheels; it shot by a policeman; dodged up
an alley, and out on the other side, then stopped
with a jolt that came near sending Mazie
through the glass.
“Here you are.” She thrust a bill in the
driver’s hand, then raced up the steps and into
the forbidding police station.
A sergeant looked up from the desk as she
entered. _
“Johnny Thompson,” she said excitedly. “ I
want to see Johnny Thompson!”
“I’d like to myself, miss,” he said smiling.
“There never was a featherweight like him.
But he’s dead.”
“ Dead?” Mazie caught at her throat.
“ Sure. Didn’t you read about it? Long
time ago. Died in Russia."
‘ Oh!” Mazie sank limply into a chair.
“ Then you haven’t heard? He isn’t arrested?
He isn’t here?!”
4‘ ? 97
Arrested. .The sergeant’s face took on
1.


206 Triple Spies
an amused and puzzled look; then he smiled
again. “ Oh, yes, there was something on the
records tonight saying he and a Jap was wanted
for conspiracy. But take it from me, lady, that’s
all pure bunk; some crook posing as Johnny
Thompson, more than likely. I tell you, there
never was a more loyal chap than this same
Johnny ; one of the ﬁrst to enlist.”
“I—I know,” faltered Mazie. Now, for
the ﬁrst time, she noticed a man who had
entered after her. He stepped to the desk and
asked a question regarding a person she knew
nothing of. Then he went silently out again.
Mazie sat quite still, then rising, she smiled
faintly at the sergeant.
“ I — I guess you must be right— but— but
the papers are full of it.”
“Oh, the papers!” The ofﬁcer spread his
hands out in a gesture of contempt. “They’d
print anything! ”
As Mazie stepped out into the street she was
approached by a man, and with a little start,
she noticed that it was the one who had entered
the police station a few minutes before. Halting,
she waited for him to speak.
‘I
&-1


A Three-Cornered Battle 207
u _ p n
You were looking for Johnny Thompson.
He said the words almost in a whisper.
“ Yes.” ‘
“ Well, he is alive. He is not dead. He was
arrested, but has been discharged. I can take
you to him. Shall I? ”
“Oh, will you?” Mazie’s voice echoed her
gratitude.
“ Sure. There’s a taxi now,” the man replied
in a foreign accent.
* * * * *
Johnny had not been released; far from it.
And yet it was true, he was at that very moment
free. His freedom was‘ only from moment to
moment, however; the kind of freedom one gets
who runs away from the police.
It was not Johnny’s fault that he ran away
either. They had been following the orders of
the police to the letter, he and Hanada. They
had gone across the bridge with them, had
meekly submitted to being handcuffed, had been
waiting for the patrol-wagon, when things
happened.
Four men dashed suddenly from the dark-
ness, and before the patrolmcn could draw guns
4 __


208 Triple Spies
or clubs, before johnny could realize what was
happening, the ofﬁcers were ﬂat on the pave-
ment, with hands and feet tied.
Johnny’s brain worked rapidly. He under-
stood all right. These men were Radicals. He
was the prize they were after—he and _the
diamonds. Once let him be taken to the police
station, there to be searched, the diamonds
would be lost to them forever.
But handcuffed as he was, Johnny was not
the boy to submit to being kidnapped without a
ﬁght. As one of the Radicals leaped at him, he
put his hands up, as in a sign of surrender, then
brought them, iron bracelets and all, crashing
down on the fellow’s head. The man went down
without a cry.
Hanada, too, had not been idle. He slipped
the handcuffs from his slender wrists and seizing
the club of one of the fallen policemen, aimed
a blow at the second man who leaped at Johnny.
A moment later, Johnny heard his shrill
whisper:
“ C’mon! ”
They were away like a ﬂash. Down a dark
alley, over a fence, _with Johnny’s handcuffs
L


A Three-Cornered Battle 209
jangling, they sped. Then, after crossing a
street and leaping into a yard ﬁlled with junk
and scrap iron, they paused.
“ Let’s see,” said Hanada.
He took Johnny’s wrist, and after twisting
the iron bracelets and working for a momerrt
with a bit of rusty wire, he unlocked the hand-
cuffs and threw them in the scrap heap.
“ Clumsy things! Belong there,” he grunted.
“ But,” said Johnny slowly, “what’s the big
idea? They’ll get us again, and running away
will only get us in bad. They’ll think those
Radicals were in cahoots with us.”
“ I think not,” said Hanada. “ We left them
one or two of the Radicals for samples. But
that doesn’t much matter now. They will get
me, yes. And they will not let me go either, not
even under bond. But you, you have done
nothing. They will let you go. My testimony
will set you free. Then you must carry on the
hunt and the ﬁght, which they will keep me
from continuing because they do not know what
they are doing. That’s why I must have a little
time to talk to you before they take me; time to
explain everything, and to tell you how very
A


210 Triple Spies
important it is that you get that Russian, and
all those that are with him.”
“ My room,” whispered Johnny, now breath-
less with interest. “ My room ; the police do not
know about it. We might be able to hide there
for hours. We can reach it by the next bridge
and by alleys and roofs. C’mon! ”
.5
_.|-


CHAPTER XVIII
HAN ADA’S SECRET
Johnny smiled grimly. He was in his old
place by the window overlooking the river.
Hanada was seated beside him.
They could hear the many noises that rose
from the street below. Now a patrol wagon
came jangling by. Now a squad of policemen
emerged from one alley to plunge down an-
other. A riot call had been sent in and the
streets were alive with patrolmen and detectives
all on the trail of Johnny and his Japanese com-
panion. By this time, too, they must be on the
trail of the Radicals. So far as Johnny knew,
the Radicals had not actually interfered with the
enforcement of the law. Now driven to despera-
tion at the thought of the loss of that treasure
which was still in Johnny’s possession, they had
stepped over the line. From now on the police
211 _
§
.. ........._..T :_ _.


212 Triple Spies _
would be after them. Johnny was awakened
from these reﬂections by the voice of Hanada.
“ That man,” the Japanese youth was saying,
“that Russian, the one we have followed so
far, he is the big one, the head of the Radical
movement, and he is at this moment in confer-
ence with all his chosen leaders. To-morrow,
next day, next week, he may strike. And what
will the result be? Who can tell? In the whole
world he has millions of followers who will rise
at his call. We must get him, get that man
before it is too late. I am a member of the
Japanese Secret Police. And you?”
“A plain American citizen,” answered
Johnny, “ which, by the laws of our land, makes
me a policeman, a marshal, a member of the
secret service— anything and everything, when
the safety of my people, the stability of my
government, is _ at stake.” Johnny’s chest
swelled proudly.
“ Oh! I understand,” breathed Hanada.
“But,” said Johnny quickly, “you say we
must get that man. I have had opportunities to
kill him, to let him be killed and always you
have hindered me. Why?”

_


Hanada’s Secret 213
“Don?t you see even now? ” Hanada asked.
“ Don’t you see that now is the time to strike?
Now he is meeting with his leaders. We must
take him not alone, but the whole band. We
must scatter them to the ends of the earth, put
them in prison, banish them. Then the whole
affair will be ended forever.”
Hanada leaned forward. His eyes glowed;
his words were sharp with excitement. Johnny
listened, breathless.
“ We must get them all,” he continued.
“ That is why our secret service people allowed
him to break through the lines at Vladivostok,
and make his way north to cross the Strait.
That is why I followed him, as an Eskimo, to
dog his tracks and yet to protect‘ him. That is
why he could not bekilled. He was to be a
decoy; a decoy for the whole band. Your Secret
Service, of which I thought you were a member,
would not have allowed him to cross to America.
That is why I deserted you at East Cape. I
thought you were of the Secret Service, and
would have the Russian arrested as soon as his
foot touched American soil. That is why I said
the offer of a reward for his arrest was a
I _ i._x


218 Triple Spies
steel. There was a strange stuﬁiness about the
air of the place; they must be either under-
ground or under water. She did not know
what was to be the next move, or why she was
here. She realized only that she could do
nothing.
Instinctively she moved toward the girl in
the corner. Before she had gone half the dis-
tance, a man uttered a low growl of disap-
proval, and motioned her to a chair. She sat
down unsteadily and, as she did so, she realized
that the place had a slightly rolling motion, like
a ship on the sea.
i~ __I


224 Triple Spies
say frankly that your friend is clever, and has a
way, quite a way, of using his hands.”
Mazie did not need to be told that.
“ But it is not that of which I wish to speak.”
The Russian took a step nearer. Mazie, feeling
his hot breath on her cheek, shrank back.
“ Your friend, as I say, has been troubling us
a great deal, and in this he has been misled,
sadly misled. He does not understand our high
and lofty purpose; our desire to free all man-
kind from the bonds of organized society. If he
knew he would act far differently. Of course,
you cannot explain all this to him, but you can
write him a note, just a little note. You will
write it now, in just another moment. First,
I will tell you what to say. Say to him that you
are in great trouble and danger. Say that you
may be killed, or worse things may happen to
you, unless he does precisely as you tell him to
do. Say that he is to leave a certain package,
about which he knows well enough, at the Pen-
dergast Hotel, to be given to M. Kriskie. Say
that he is, after that, to leave Chicago at once
and is not to return for sixty days.
“ See? ” He attempted another smile. “ It
ii-_— _ _:‘ _


“ I Seen 1t—A Submaririe! ” 225
is little that we ask of you; little that we ask of
him — virtually nothing.”
Mazie’s heart was beating wildly. So that
was the game? She was to be a decoy. She
knew nothing of Johnny’s actions, but knew
they were for the good of his country. How
could she ask him to abandon them for her
sake? _
As her eyes roamed about the room they fell
upon the little Jap girl. In her face Mazie read
black rage for the Russian, and a deep com-
passion for herself.
“Come,” said the Russian; “we are wast-
ing time. Is it not so? You must write. You
should begin now. So, it will be better for all.”
For answer, Mazie took the paper in her
white, delicate ﬁngers and tore it across twice.
Then she threw it on the ﬂoor.
Quickly the man’s attitude changed to wild
rage.
“ So! ” he roared. “ You will not write? You
will not? We shall see! ”
He seized her arm and gripped it until the
blood rushed from her face, and she was
obliged to bite her lips to suppress a scream.
4


226 Triple Spies
“ So!” he raged. “We shall see what hap-
pens to young women like you. First, we will
kill your young friend, Johnny Thompson; then
what good will your refusal have done? After
that, we shall see what will happen to you. We
Radicals will win by fair means or foul. What
does it matter what means we take, so long as
the point has been won? ”
Roughly he pulled her from the chair and
flung her from him.
Then the little Japanese girl was dragged to
the chair. A Japanese man, whom Mazie had
not before noticed, came forward. From his
words and gestures Mazie concluded that he
was going through, in the Japanese language,
the same program which the Russian had just
ﬁnished.
The results were apparently the same, for at
the close the girl threw the paper on the ﬂoor
and stamped upon it. At that the Russian’s rage
knew no bounds. With an imprecation, he
sprang at the Japanese girl. As Mazie looked
on in speechless horror, she fancied she caught
the gleam of a knife in the girl’s hand.
But at that instant the attention of all was


232 Triple Spies
Perhaps by this time they may be killing her.
I’ll keep. I can’t get away; not for good. I’m
known the country over, beside your charge
against me is false, idiotic.”
“ Yes, yes,” it was Hanada’s hoarse whisper.
“ Take me to a hospital. I’ll tell all and you
will know he was not in it at all. Let him help
you. And — and, for God’s sake, get that man.”
He sank back unconscious.
“ Here, Mulligan,” ordered a sergeant, “you
and Murphy take this Jap to the Emergency
quick. You, Kelly and Flannigan, get over to
the box and call the police boats with drags.
Tell ’em to drag the river from Madison street
in one direction and from the lake in the other.
It sounds like a dream, but this thing has got
to be cleared up. Them shots come from the
river sure’s my name’s Harrigan. We got to
ﬁnd how it’s done.”
A half hour later, two innocent looking police
boats moved silently up the river from Madison
street bridge. They traveled abreast, keeping
half the river’s width between them. From
their bows there protruded to right and left,
heavy iron shafts. From these iron shafts, at
_. A ___.__\___


At the Bottom of the River 235
times and then hung there, with the ﬂoor for its
ceiling.
Overcome with fright and misery, Mazie did
not stir for a full minute, then she dragged
herself from the gruesome spot where she lay.
She gave one quick glance at the door. It
appeared to have been wedged solidly shut.
Then she turned to Cio-Cio-San, who also had
arisen.
“What can have happened?” Mazie asked
in a voice she could scarcely believe was her
own.
What had happened was this: one of the
hooks on the police boat had caught in an outer
railing of the submarine. The giant iron ﬁsh
was hooked.
To throw other drags, fastened on longer
chains, into the sub; to send tugs and police
boats snorting backward; to tighten the chains
and draw the sub to the surface, to whirl it
about until the hatchway was once more at the
upper side, this was merely a matter of time.
When the Radicals saw what had been done,
they doubtless realized that if they refused to
come out the lid would be blown off and they
_d
\_i~


236 Triple Spies
would be likely to perish in the explosion. They
had apparently planned to charge the police and
attempt an escape, for the Russian came ﬁrst
with a rush, a pistol in each hand. But Johnny
Thompson’s good right arm spoiled all this.
He had leaped to the surface of the sub and
when the Russian appeared he gave him a blow
under the chin that lifted him off his feet and
sent him plunging into the river.
Seeing this the other members of the gang
surrendered.
Johnny was the ﬁrst man below. Seeing the
closed door to the right, he hammered on it,
shouting:
“ C’mon out, we’re the police.”
Slowly the door opened. There before him
stood Mazie.
“ Mazie! ” Johnny’s eyes bulged with aston-
ishment.
“ Johnny! ” There was a sob in her voice.
Then catching herself, she glanced down at her
wrinkled and blood-bespattered dress.
“ Johnny,” she implored, “ for goodness’ sake
get me out of this horrid place so I can change
these clothes.”
.l..


At the Bottom of the River 237
“ There’s decent enough dresses at the police
station,” suggested a smiling ofﬁcer.
“ Call the wagon,” said Johnny.
Soon they were rattling away toward the
station, Mazie, Cio-Cio-San, and Johnny.
“Johnny,” Mazie whispered, “ you didn’t
desert, did you?”
“Did you think that?” Johnny groaned in
mock agony.
“No, honest I didn’t, but what—what did
you do?” _
“ Just got tired of waiting for Uncle Sam to
bring me home from Russia, so I walked, that’s
all. Here’s my discharge papers, all right.
And here’s my transportation.”
With a smile Johnny handed her the two
crumpled papers.
“ You see,” he exclaimed, “ a Russian brigand
got me in the left arm when I was guarding the
Trans-Siberian Railroad. They sent me to the
hospital, then gave me my discharge. Said I’d
be no more good as a soldier. And after wait-
ing for a boat that never seemed to come I hit
out for the north. Nothing crooked about that
at all, but I had to be a bit sly about it anyway,
I


At the Bottom of the River 239
“ Hanada,” Johnny exclaimed. “ I must ﬁnd
out about him.”
“Just came from there myself,” said the
police sergeant, a kindly light in his eyes.
“ I’m sorry to tell you, but your friend’s checked
in.”
“ Dead? "
“ Dead,” answered the ofﬁcer, “but he lived
long enough to know that the band of world
outlaws was captured. He died happy knowing
that he had served his country well, and I
guess that’s about all any Jap asks.”
“ Oh, yes, one more thing,” he went on; “ he
cleared up that little matter of conspiracy before
he died. Something that concerned him alone.
You weren’t in it. His part, well, you might
call it treason, then again you mightn’t. Con-
sidering what he’s done for this country and his,
we don’t call it treason. It’s been sponged off
the slate.”
“ I’m glad to hear that,” sighed Johnny, as
he turned to rejoin Mazie.


The Owner of the Diamonds 241
found a letter waiting for him. He opened this
in some surprise and read it in great astonish-
ment. It was from one of Chicago’s richest
men; a man he had never met and indeed had
never dreamed of meeting. Yet here was the
man’s note requesting him to meet him in his
private oﬂice at ﬁve o’clock.
“All right, I’ll do that little thing,” Johnny
whispered to himself, “ but meantime I’ll go out
to the University and see Cio-Cio-San.”
An hour later he found himself sitting beside
the Japanese girl on the thick mats of that
Japanese room at her club. i
“ Cio-Cio-San,” he said thoughtfully, “ I
remember hearing you tell of having been
robbed of a treasure. Did you ﬁnd it last night
in the submarine?”
“No,” she said softly. “Last night was a
bad night for me. I lost my best friend. He
is\dead. I lost my treasure. I do not hope to
ever ﬁnd it now.”
“ Cio-Cio-San,” Johnny said the name slowly.
“ Since you do not hope ever to see your treas-
ure again, perhaps you will tell me what it was.”
“Yes, I will tell you. You are my good
" M ______


242 Triple” Spies
friend. It was diamonds, one hundred and ten
diamonds and ten rubies, all in a leather lined
envelope with three long compartments._ The
rubies were at the bottom of the envelope.”
“Then,” said Johnny, “you are not so far
from your treasure after all. A few of the
stones are gone, but most of them are safe.”
He drew from his pocket the envelope which
he had carried so far and at such great peril.
Had he needed any reward, other than the
consciousness of having done an honest deed,
he would have received it then and there in the
glad cry that escaped from the Japanese girl’s
lips. _
When she had wept for joy, she opened the
envelope and shaking out the three loose stones
dropped them into Johnny’s hand.
“ VVhat’s that?” he asked.
“ A little reward. A present.”
Taking the smallest of the three between
ﬁnger and thumb he gave her back the others.
“One is enough,” he told her. “ I’ll give it
to Mazie.”
“ Ah, yes, to Mazie, your so beautiful, so won-
derful friend,” she murmured. Then, after a
--txww-_.
\‘1*


I
_ \ —J


F’
l
l
l
t
l
L.
_


\-
I
_
..
__ _


4. 0’ _ j


_
_