"Well, that's settled," said Dave, after a moment's reflection. "Now what about Pant? Where is he?"

"Let's go ask the gang."

In a little cabin close to the water-front, they found the gang. They were all there but Pant.

"Where's Pant?" asked Johnny.

"On his way to America," said one of the men. "Saw him on the steamer not a half hour ago. He told me to tell you he'd left the gold for you up at the Red Cross."

"Have his goggles on?"

"Nope."

"And his eyes?" The men, leaning forward eagerly, listened for the answer to this question.

"Steamer was pullin' out; I was too far away to see 'em."

"Oh!" The men sank back in disgust.

"As for that," said Jarvis, "I seen 'im plain enough the night of the sc.r.a.p. 'E'd 'ad 'is goggles smashed to bits. I saw 'is eyes plain as I see yours."

The men leaned forward again.

"An'," Jarvis went on, "an' 'ope I may die for it, if 'e ain't got one panther eye. I saw the pupil of it shut up in the light just like a cat's."

"You'll die for it, or say you're wrong, anyway, about the panther part,"

smiled Johnny.

"D' y' mean to say I lied?" demanded Jarvis hotly.

"Not exactly that. You saw what you expected to see, that's all. As far as the panther part is concerned, you're dead wrong."

All eyes were now turned on Johnny.

"You see," he smiled, "the pupil of a panther's eye does not contract to a line in the light as a house cat's does. It contracts to a smaller circle, just as yours and mine do. Go consult your encyclopedia. Ask any hunter of big game, or keeper of a zoo, and he'll tell you that I'm right."

The laugh was plainly on Jarvis, and he got it from everyone.

"All the same," he maintained stoutly, "that don't prove that Pant ain't got a cat's eye, an' you all know 'e 'as or 'e's a devil. 'E can see in the dark."

There was no disputing this point, and there the argument dropped.

Two months later, having got the haven of refuge well established and turned over to the management of the Red Cross, Johnny and Mazie were on a Pacific liner bound for America. Johnny might return at some future time to the Seven Mines, but for the present he had had quite enough of Russia.

The gang were all on board. With Dave went two persons--the beautiful young exiled Russian girl and her mother.

As the steamer lost the last glimpse of land, Johnny drew from his pocket a wireless message he had received that morning. It read:

"Come over. Get in on something good. Secret Service and a three-ring circus, Pant."

"Secret Service and a three-ring circus," repeated Johnny. "Sounds pretty good. Worth looking up. Pant's a queer one. Bet he's found something different and mysterious. I'll bet on that."

He had. But this story must be told in our next volume.