"And if they do?"

"If they do, we'll leave them the greenhouse, coal mine, heating plant and all in exchange for that bit of information."

Jarvis seemed quite content with any arrangement which promised to put a few thousand miles between him and the "b.l.o.o.d.y, bloomin' 'eathen."

After the wound of the one who had been winged by Dave's automatic had been dressed, Dave locked himself in the cabin with the yellow men.

It took him three hours to secure the desired information, but in the end it came.

The wounded Oriental showed him a secret eccentric bearing through which the crank shaft operated. When this bearing was properly adjusted the engine worked perfectly, when it was out of adjustment, it would not work at all.

When Dave had operated the engine for an hour, he sent the prisoners back to the greenhouse, where they were released. The gold they had stolen was found hidden away in a locker of the balloon cabin.

In another hour, the balloon, with all on board, gently urged on by the wind, ably a.s.sisted by the now perfect engine, was making good time toward Vladivostok.

As Johnny Thompson hesitated at the head of the street, listening to the rat-tat-tat of machine guns, uncertain which way to turn, he heard the distant thunder of an engine in midair. Gazing away to the north, he saw a dirigible balloon circling in search of a likely lighting place.

"I wonder which faction that bird belongs to?" he murmured.

If he had but known the truth, a little ray of hope would have pierced the gloom of his leaden sky, for this balloon was none other than the one he had seen carry his good friends, Dave and Jarvis, away from the mines, some weeks before. They had made the journey in safety. Twice they had been obliged to land to escape the fury of a storm. Wild reindeer had made up for the scantiness of their food supply. Now they were about to alight and enter the city of many mysteries.

Pant had already entered. The clan was gathering, gathering for stirring events, for the development of new mysteries and the solving of old ones.

Soon, all unknown to one another, Dave and Jarvis, Pant, Johnny Thompson, Cio-Cio-San, and Mazie would be in the same city--a city seething in the tumult of revolt.

CHAPTER XVIII

UNDER MACHINE-GUN FIRE

By the time Johnny had left the den of Wo Cheng, night had come down upon the city. It was by the light of a golden moon that he saw the balloon hanging in the sky. The balloon, however, interested him little. He was thinking only of Mazie. He had decided to make his way to a corner of the city occupied by j.a.panese people of doubtful character. To do this he must leave the street he was in and, after turning to his right, go straight ahead for ten blocks.

He was not long in discovering that the carrying out of his plans would put him in the greatest danger. The cross-street was jammed with Russians who fled from the raking fire of machine guns set somewhere at the head of that street. Johnny could still hear their rat-tat and the sing of bullets. Men, women and children ran through the street. An aged peasant woman, her face streaming with blood, toppled toward him, then fell. He sprang to a.s.sist her, but two of her own people came to her aid.

"What's the rumpus?" He hazarded the question in English.

"n.o.body knows," said a clean-faced young Russian. "It's the j.a.ps shooting.

Can't tell why. Probably just nervous. Nothing was done against them, though St. Christopher knows it's plenty we'd like to do. They want this peninsula, and if keeping us fighting among ourselves will give it to them, they'll win it."

"I've seen their spies two thousand miles from the last sign of civilization."

"They are everywhere, like fleas."

"I've got to get at some of them. Think they kidnapped a friend of mine,"

said Johnny. "But how can I get past this?"

"I know a closed private alley. Want to try that?"

"I'll try anything."

"Come."

The man led the way half the distance back to Wo Cheng's door, then suddenly opened a door in a wall.

"See. Through there."

He closed the door behind Johnny. Johnny looked about. Straight on before him lay a path, to the right of which was a garden. At the end of the path was another door.

"Must open on another street," he muttered to himself. "Touchy sort of business this prowling through a strange city at night with a big row on foot. Can't be helped though."

He reached the door only to find it locked. The wall was not high. A gnarled pear tree offered him a lift to the top. He had soon scaled it, and was looking up and down the narrow street that ran on the other side.

"Not a soul in sight," he whispered.

He listened for a second. The rattle of machine-gun fire had ceased. Now and again there came the crack of a rifle or automatic.

Johnny slipped off the wall. His feet had hardly touched ground when a shot rang out and a bullet sang past him. Dodging into the deep-set doorway, he whipped out his automatic and waited. Footsteps were approaching.

"Jig's up," he muttered. "Worse luck for it!"

His hands fumbled at the door. In a second there came a dull thud on the other side of it. He had pushed his automatic through a latch-string opening.

"No use getting caught armed," was his mental comment.

In another moment the j.a.panese military police were upon him. In vain he told them that he was an American, in vain presented his papers. They had seen him climb over the wall; that was enough. Many Russian radicals spoke English very well, and, as for papers, they could be forged. Besides, were there not many American radicals, soldiers of fortune, here a.s.sisting in the attempt to overthrow their rule. He should go to prison at once, and "To-morrow!" There was something so sinister about the way they said that "to-morrow" that it sent the cold chills racing down his spine.

Down one narrow street, then another and another they went until, eventually, they came to a frowning stone-wall with an iron-grating set deep in an arched ante-room. Through this doorway he was thrust and the lock clanged behind him.

He was not alone. He had hardly taken a step before he stumbled upon a p.r.o.ne form. Many men and some women were sprawled about on the stone floor.

"Amerikaner," came in a shrill whisper. "Lie down here."

Johnny obeyed.

"Got you, did they," said the voice with a Russian accent.

"Yes, and for what?" said Johnny.

"In this land we do not ask for what. It is enough that we are got."

"What's to-morrow?" asked Johnny suddenly.

"To-morrow we will be shot."