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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not quite that bad," smiled Dave, "though G.o.d knows it has been bad enough."

"Communism!" exclaimed the man springing up. "Communism will never do. It drives men to dry-rot. Here we have had Communism at its very best, a group of friends, each doing the best for the whole group at all times, but we have not been happy. We have been of all men the most miserable.

Each one of us would give a year of this for one week spent in honest compet.i.tion for a livelihood with other men.

"Compet.i.tion! Compet.i.tion! I cannot tell how it is, but I know it to be a truth now; honest compet.i.tion is not only the life of trade, it is the life of man and without it man will die of inactivity which comes when interest dies.

"But my country, my poor Russia, my brave Russia! She will yet see her error and build up a government like your own, a free government of the people, a government not without its faults, but ever striving toward perfection. She must do it!"

He sank back exhausted by this impa.s.sioned utterance. For some time he did not move nor speak. At last he roused himself.

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

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

"We will help you."

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

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

"Just some natives that came here and wished to stay," smiled the Russian.

"When they came, they had been pretty badly torn up by a polar bear. We nursed them back to life and they have been so grateful for it that they have never left."

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

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

"Now mind y'. I'm a tellin' y'," stormed Jarvis, striking his fists together, "them's no natural 'eathen. Them's two spies from far down the coast. A polar bear me eye! An ice anchor it was that cut 'alf a ear off'n the little one. Them's the lads that Dave and me 'ad the tussle with on the submarine more'n a year ago. I tell you they're no natural 'eathen an'

I 'ates to think what'll 'appen to 'em if I meets up with 'em again."

Dave sprang to the door through which the men had just pa.s.sed. They were not to be seen. The incident was disturbing. There could be little doubt but that Jarvis had identified the men as the same pair that had locked them in a prison made of walrus tusks the year before, and had fought with them later on the submarine. Now if they had recognized Jarvis, what might they not do? He continued to think of this while the Russian showed them through the most wonderful greenhouse in all the world.

"You see," said their host, "we built this against the side of the cliff, at the point where the soft coal mine cropped out. We cut away enough of the coal to make room for a great stone furnace. From this furnace we ran heat tunnels of stone through the entire greenhouse. The work is all very simple. Coal is mined and loaded on trucks of wood, run on wooden tracks.

From there it is shoveled into the furnace. We ran stone troughs through the greenhouse connecting them to the warm spring. This furnishes water for use in our homes, and for irrigating the rich soil we have brought from the tundra. At the same time, it keeps the air here sufficiently moist."

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

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

Nothing!"

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

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

"The gold! It is gone!"

"Was there much?" asked Dave.

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

"The 'eathen, the unnatural, b.l.o.o.d.y, bloomin' 'eathen," exclaimed Jarvis.

"Find them and you find the gold."

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

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

Three days were spent in futile attempts to start that oriental engine.

When this was given up, it was decided that they should inflate the balloon, await a favorable wind and try their fortunes at drifting back to the land whence they came.

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

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

The balloon was at last inflated. Provisions were loaded. The wind was beginning to shift. They would be off in a few hours. All were expectant.

A tense nervousness gripped them, a sensation composed half of hope and half of despair. They were eating the evening meal in the common mess hall by the cliff when a sound utterly strange to the Russian's ears smote the silent air. It was a thundering pop-pop-pop.

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

"The 'eathen! The b.l.o.o.d.y, bloomin' 'eathen. It's the engine."

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

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

"The 'eathen! The b.l.o.o.d.y, bloomin' 'eathen!" cried Jarvis.

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

CHAPTER XVII