HANADA'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 another. 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 companion. 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
desperation 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 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 conference 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?"
"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 be killed. 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 blunder. Don't you
see? We were to get them all."
"But the girl, Cio-Cio-San?" Johnny questioned.
"She is not of the secret police. She helps me as a friend, that's all,
and I will help her if I can."
Johnny wished to question him regarding the treasure, but something held
him back.
"So you see how it is." Hanada spoke wearily. "We have gone so far, so
very far. Mebbe to-morrow, mebbe next day, we would have uncovered their
lair; but to-night the police are on my trail, for 'treason' they call
it. Bah! It was a dream, a great and wonderful dream; a dream that would
mean much for your country and mine." His words were full of mystery.
"But now they will arrest me, and you must carry on the hunt for the
Russian and his band. This other thing, it can wait. It will come,
sometime, but not now."
"What other?" asked Johnny.
Hanada did not answer.
There came the stealthy shuffle of feet in the corridor.
"They are coming," whispered Hanada. "Remember my testimony will free
you, but you must not stop; you must hunt as never before, you must get
that man!"
There came, not the expected tattoo of police billies on the door, but a
shrill whisper through the key-hole:
"Johnny," the voice said, "are you there? Let me in. I seen it! I seen
it! I get the century note you promised me! Let me in!"
* * * * *
When Mazie entered the taxi with the man who was an entire stranger to
her she did it on the impulse of the moment. The swift sequence of
events had carried her off her feet. First, she had been startled into
the hope that Johnny still lived; then she had been assured by the
police sergeant that he could not possibly be living, only to be told a
moment later by this stranger that he was still alive.
Once she had settled back against the cushions and felt the jolt of the
taxi over the car tracks, she began to have misgivings. Was this a trap?
Had she better call to the driver and demand to be allowed to alight? A
glance at her fellow traveler tended to reassure her. He was
undoubtedly a foreigner, but was an honest-looking fellow and neatly
dressed.
As the cab lurched into a side street toward the river, she again
experienced misgivings; but this time it was the faint hope still
lingering in her breast of seeing her good pal once more that kept her
in her seat.
The taxi paused before an old building which was enshrouded in darkness.
She was ushered out of the taxi and the next instant, before she had
time to cry out, she was bound and gagged. Her feet were tied as well as
her hands, and she was hastily carried into the building. Through rooms
and halls all dark as night she was half carried, half dragged, until
she found herself out over the swirling waters of the river.
Wild questions rushed through her brain. Was this murder? Bound and
gagged as she was, would she be thrown into the river to drown? Why? Who
were these men? She had not believed until that moment that she had an
enemy in the world. She knew no secrets that could inspire anyone to
kill her.
While all these thoughts were driving through her brain, she was being
slowly lowered toward the water. Down, down she sank until it seemed to
her she could feel the wash of the water on her skirts. At that instant,
when all seemed lost, strong arms seized her and she was carried down a
clanking iron stairway.
She caught her breath. She must now be far below the level of the water.
What place was this she was being taken into? And why?
She was finally flung down upon a leather covered lounge. The next
moment the whole place seemed to be sinking with her as if she were in
some slowly descending elevator.
Opening her eyes she looked about her. The place, a long and narrow
compartment, was dimly lighted by small incandescent bulbs. The
trapdoor, or whatever it had been, through which she had been carried,
was closed.
Eight or ten men were grouped about the room, while in one of the
darkest corners cowered a little Japanese girl. One of the men came
close to Mazie and untied her bonds, also removing the gag. She was now
free to move and talk. She realized the utter uselessness of either. The
walls of the room appeared to be of steel. There was a strange
stuffiness about the air of the place; they must be either underground
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 distance, a man uttered a low growl of disapproval, 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.