"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 breaking up the lumps. Every now and again, he would
lift the small sack into which the lumps were dropped. It grew heavier
every moment.
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 Kamchatkan Peninsula could harbor such wealth.
Someone 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 miles on their last
journey, then had come another 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 followed 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 realization 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. 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 mastery. Each man realized that, unless some unforeseen
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, gripping 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 Russian'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), replied Johnny, throwing the light
on the sullen face of the Eskimo.
"Eh-eh" (yes), the other agreed.
"Then what in thunder!" Johnny exclaimed, falling back on English. "He
tried to kill me. Kill me! Do you understand? Why shouldn't I kill him?"
"No kill," said the Eskimo stubbornly.
Johnny sat and thought for a full three minutes. In that time, his blood
had cooled. He was able to reason about the matter. In the army he had
learned one rule: "If someone knows more about a matter than you do,
follow his guidance, though, at the time, it seems dead wrong."
Evidently Iyok-ok knew more about this Russian than Johnny did. Then the
thing to do was to let the man go.
Before releasing him, he searched him carefully. Beyond a few
uninteresting papers, a pencil, a cigaret case and a purse he found
nothing. Evidently the revolver had been his only weapon.
As he searched the man, one peculiar question flashed through Johnny's
mind; if the Russian had the envelope full of diamonds on his person,
what should he do, take them or leave them? He was saved the necessity
of a decision; they were not there.
"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 furnishes 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 perplexed to say anything further.
The two sat 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 Wo
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 seal 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, Chicago. 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.
But, at last, his mind wandered back to the many mysteries which had
been straightened out not one bit by these events of the day. Here he
was traveling with two companions, a Jap girl and an Eskimo. Eskimo?
Right there he began to wonder if Iyok-ok, as he called himself, was
really an Eskimo after all. What if he should turn out to be a Jap
playing the part of an Eskimo? Only that day Johnny had once more come
upon him suddenly to find him in earnest conversation with the Jap girl.
And the language they had been using had sounded distinctly oriental.
And yet, if he was a Jap, how did it come about that he spoke the Eskimo
language so well?
Dismissing this question, his mind dwelt upon the events of the past few
days. Twice he had been begged not to kill the Russian. This last time
he most decidedly would have been justified in putting a bullet into the
rascal's brain. He had been prevented from doing so by Iyok-ok. Why?
"Anyway," he said to himself, yawning, "I'm glad I didn't do it. It's
nasty business, this killing people. I couldn't very well tell such a
thing 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 wouldn'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 suddenly and pounded his knee.
"By Jove! I'll bet that's it!" he exclaimed.
He had happened upon a new theory regarding 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 hungry, that glittering, yellow metal was
of vast importance, especially to the warring factions of Russia.
Surely, this seemed a plausible explanation. And if it was true then he
could hurry on up the coast, with or without his companions and make his
way home.
"But then," he said, perplexed again. He reached his hand into his
pocket to draw out the envelope he had found in the mine. "But then,
there's the diamonds. Would a man coming on such a journey bring such
treasure with him? He couldn't trade them to the natives. They know
money well enough, but not diamonds."
Johnny opened the envelope and shook it gently. Three stones fell into
his hand. They were of purest blue white, perfect stones and perfectly
cut. A glance at the envelope showed him that it was divided into four
narrow compartments and that each compartment was filled with diamonds
wrapped in tissue paper. Only these three were unwrapped.
Running his fingers down the outside of the compartments, he counted the
jewels.
"One hundred and four," he breathed. "A king's ransom. Forty or fifty
thousand dollars worth, anyway. Whew!"
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 Wo 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 up and say: "Here, mister. You tried to kill me
yesterday. Here are your diamonds. I found them in the mine. Please
count them and see if they are all there."
Johnny grinned as he thought of that. There seemed to be nothing to do
but keep the stones, for the time being at least.
"Anyway," he said to himself as he rolled up in his deer skins. "I'll
bet I have discovered something. I'll bet he's one of the big ones,
perhaps the biggest of them all. And he's trying to make his way across
to America to stir things up over there."