CIO-CIO-SAN
Hardly had Johnny Thompson's finger lessened its pressure on the trigger
of his automatic, than the interpreter sprang straight at the figure that
cast the shadow.
A scream rent the air.
With a spring, Johnny was on his feet, just in time to see one of the
figures drop. In the dim light he could not tell which one. He stood there
motionless. It had all happened so quickly that he was stunned into
inactivity.
In that brief moment bedlam broke loose. The Mongol chief sprang from
behind his curtain. Other Mongols, deserting all night games of chance,
came swarming in on all sides. Their jargon was unintelligible. Johnny
could not tell them what had happened, even had he rightly known.
The fallen man was dragged out upon the snow, where his blood made a
rapidly spreading dark circle on the crystal whiteness. He was dead beyond
a doubt.
Slowly the group settled in a dense ring about some one who was talking
rapidly. Evidently the survivor of the tragedy was explaining. Was it the
interpreter or the other? Johnny could not crowd close enough to tell.
He flashed his electric torch upon the fallen body. The sight of the hilt
protruding from the chest, over the heart, gave Johnny a start. His
interpreter had won. It was his knife that had made the fatal thrust. The
dead man was undoubtedly Oriental and not a member of the Mongolian
tribe.
That knife! Johnny started. How had this person come into possession of
that blade which he had given to Cio-Cio-San? That Cio-Cio-San would not
give it away, he was certain. What then had happened? Had it been stolen
from her, or was this strange interpreter, who had doubtless just now
saved his life, Cio-Cio-San herself? It seemed unbelievable, yet his mind
clung to the theory. He would soon know.
Slowly the crowd dispersed. The killing of an Oriental in such a camp as
this was merely an incident in the life of the tribe, a thing soon to be
forgotten. Two servants of the chief bore the body away. Once more Johnny
found himself sitting in the triangle with his interpreter and the Mongol.
In his hands he held two knives; one he had drawn from the heart of the
dead man and had cleansed in the snow; the other was the one dropped by
the murderer. This last one evidently had been meant for him.
The Mongol was profuse in his apologies, while he lauded to the sky the
bravery of the little interpreter. The slain man, he explained, was no
member of his company. He was one of three who had camped on the outer
edge of the village that very night. Doubtless they had followed Johnny
with the purpose of murdering and robbing him. He had sent at once for the
other two men, but they had fled. He hoped now that his guests might sleep
in peace.
After delivering this message, he bowed himself back through the curtains.
Johnny and the interpreter were left alone. It was a dramatic moment. The
interpreter's fingers twitched nervously. Once the brown eyes fell upon
the knives Johnny held, but instantly they flashed away. Johnny had drawn
a freshly lighted fish-oil lamp to his side.
"Friend," said he in a low tone, "you have done me a great service this
night. Will you do me but one more?"
"Gladly, most gracious one."
The small head bent low.
"Allow me." Johnny took one of the brown hands, and began rolling up the
loose sleeve of the brown-skin parka. The brown face blanched a trifle. He
uncovered a sleeve of pink silk, and beneath that a slender brown arm. On
the arm, a finger's length beneath the elbow, was a triangular scar.
Johnny sighed, then carefully rolling down the sleeve, dropped the hand.
"It is enough," he smiled, "you are my old and very dear friend,
Cio-Cio-San. You have to-night added greatly to the debt of gratitude
which I owe you and can never repay. But why did you come? And why, most
of all, are you in disguise? Why are you in Russia at all? Why not in your
beloved Japan?"
Cio-Cio-San sighed as if relieved at feeling the mask removed.
"I came to Russia to find a very dear relative who had lived with my
family in the interior of Russia before this revolution came upon us. I
met Mazie; your so good friend. She pressed me into her service. Who could
refuse? I was glad to be of help.
"Then, because there was no Japanese man who could speak for you to the
Mongols, she asked me to go. And, because it is unsafe for a woman to go
on such a journey, undisguised, I dressed as a man. So, there you have it
all. I am glad you know, you are a man of great honor. You will not tell
others. You will protect me from them." There was no question in her
voice.
Johnny put out his hand in silence. Her small brown one rested in his for
a moment.
Then in drowsy silence they sat by the sputtering lamp until the tinkle of
bell, the clatter of harness, the shout of drivers, and the distant lowing
of cattle, told them it was another day.
That day's business was quickly brought to a close. Before the sun was
high in the heavens, Johnny found himself once more tucked beside his
interpreter in the cutter, slowly following his Russians, who drove a
splendid herd of cattle over the snow-clad fields and hard-packed roads
toward Vladivostok. Johnny owned that herd. Soon it would be supplying
nourishment to the hungry little ones.
The return journey was crowded with recollections of other days, of those
days when he and Cio-Cio-San had followed the glistening trail to the far
Northland. But, as the spires of the cathedral in the city loomed up to
greet him, Johnny's mind was filled with many wonderings and not a few
misgivings. He was coming to the city of eastern Russia which more than
any other had seen revolt and counter-revolt, pillage and sudden death. In
that city now, starvation and disease stalked unmolested. In that city,
the wary Japanese military police maintained order while many a rampant
radical lurked in a corner to slay any who did not believe in his gospel
of unlimited freedom and license. Into that city Johnny must go. Every man
in it craved gold and food, and Johnny had both. He would use it for the
good of the sufferers, if he was given time. But those who rob and kill,
do not wait. He was troubled about Mazie. He had trusted gold to her care.
Had he acted unwisely; subjected her to needless perils?
He thought of the Oriental who had attempted to take his life back there
in the Mongol's camp. There had been a strong resemblance between this man
and the band of men who had attempted to rob Mine No. 1. Had they secured
reindeer and made their way to Vladivostok? If so, they would dog his
trail, using every foul means to regain possession of the gold. And Mazie?
If they had entered the city, had they discovered that part of the gold
was in her hands? He shivered at the thought of it.
At last, leaving the cattle in a great yard, surrounded by a stone fence,
some five miles from the outskirts, he drove hurriedly into Vladivostok.