The Argosy, Vol. XIII No. 464 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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“have received charming girl. 114 ‘‘Itisa terrible thing indeed,” resumed Colonel Sudekin, ‘‘ and of special import to those who can read between the lines. I am convinced that anumber of escaped convicts have banded together and found a hiding place somewhere in the deso- late region of the Angarariver. They must have a competent leader and I fear it will be a difficult matter to capture them—the country is almost inaccessible to mounted troops you know. So far not a trace of the assassins has been found. The assault on the post station has added largely to their numbers— principally convicts of the most danger- ous nature. The governor is almost out of his mind with rage and despair. It is no light matter to lose one’s daughter in such a way.” “Yes,” said Andre, ‘‘Varia was a I knew her well.” His voice shook with emotion as he thought of the probable fate that awaited her. ‘But that affair is only indirectly cornected with your summons tonight,” resumed Colonel Sudekin, picking up a bunch of papers from the table. ‘I instructions from St. Petersburg to intrust you with a very important mission. You are probably aware that the annual yield from the Czar's gold mines is now in the govern- ment treasury of this city, and that this is the time of year when it is customary to send it forward to Russia. Yesterday I would have hesitated to give the order for its transport—knowing as I did that this band of escaped convicts were men- acing the post road—but the affair of last night will drive them back into the mountain fastnesses, and the hot pur- suit which has already commenced will render the highway safe for some time tocome. Therefore I have decided to send the convoy of gold forward at once, and in accordance with orders re- ceived you will assume charge of it.” Andre’s face flushed and his eyes sparkled with gratification. ‘‘Thank you! Thank you!” he cried. ‘‘ This is an unexpected mark of esteem. I shall not prove unworthy of your con- fidence, Colonel Sudekin, I assure you.” The colonel did not reply for a mo- ment. His feelings toward Andre were rather more than those of acom- mander for a trusted officer in his staff. He had grown to like the young man, as in former days he loved and honored Count Dagmar—a fact of which Andre was ignorant. ‘T think I may tell you,” he resumed finally, ‘‘that if you carry out your orders faithfully, and reach St. Peters- burg in safety with the convoy of gold, you will be permitted to remain there with a full restoration to your former rank and position—excepting possibly your place in the Bureau of Police. The Czar has forgiven your indiscretion, but he will hardly place you under the au- thority of Inspector Jaroslav again. That would be unpleasant for both of ou.” Andre did not feel the sting of these last words. The thought of returning to St. Petersburg again, of living there among his old friends and associates, made his head swim, and he took hold of the table for support. ‘Yours is an onerous responsibility,” continued Colonel Sudekin gravely. ‘Don't forget that. The gold is valued at two millions of rubles. Of course you will have a strong escort of Cossacks— all tried and trusted men—but the jour- ney is long and unceasing vigilance will be necessary. You will start in three days, and for the present you are re- lieved from your regular duties.” Colonel Sudekin’s voice had again as- sumed its usual official sternness—a timely warning. which Andre was prompt to heed. and stiffly saluted. He straightened up. THE ARGOSY ‘‘T appreciate this mark of honor,” he said huskily, ‘‘and I am deeply grateful _forthe Czar’s clemency. As for the safe conduct of the gold—my life shall answer for that.” . After receiving a few brief instruc- tions in regard to minor details of the proposed journey, Andre parted from the worthy colonel and rode back through the brilliant gas lit streets with alighter heart than he had known for many a month. His period of banish- ment was over, and at the end of that long three thousand mile journey— which seemed trivial enough at the pres- ent moment, he saw in imagination the bright vista of his old life—the clubs, the salons and the mess rooms of the Russian capital, and the ylittering Neva winding pnder granite bridges and by Stately palaces. Three days later a string of wagons, four in number, all solidly constrircted and boxed up, rumbled by night through the deserted streets of Irkutsk and turned westward along the great Si- berian road. Each was drawn by four stout horses and drivenby an armed soldier. Ten mounted Cossacks ac- companied the convoy, five riding in front and five behind. These wagons held the Czar’s golden treasure, and the officer in command of them was Captain Andre Dagmar. CHAPTER XV. A STARTLING DISCOVERY. T was late in the afternoon when Valbort and his companions entered a deep rocky gorge through which trickled a tiny stream. Donald's quick ear caught a distant roaring sound and he concluded that a larger stream was not faraway. ‘This belief was verified a few moments later. Valbort suddenly halted, and raising his fingers to his lips gave a single shrill whistle. It was answered almost immediately by a simi- lar signal, and as svon as they heard it the convicts hastened forward as fast as they could go. The gorge soon contracted to a nar- row passage, barely wide enough for half a dozen men to walk abreast, and then, after making a sharp turn, it sud- denly opened on the banks of a river fully a quarter of a mile wide, though it seemed far less than that, owing to the vast altitude of the mountains that shut in the spot from all sides. A second whistle from Valbort brought adozen men out from their hid- ing places among the rocks. They were allsturdy fellows—some with ferocious aspects, and others with rather pleasing, intelligent faces, They were heavily armed and dressed in thick warm clothes and high boots. Donald had no doubt that this was the party who committed the assault on General Tichimiroff and carried off his daughter—though the girl was nowhere visible. The whole affair was now per- fectly plain to him. These men—all es- caped convicts—had banded together and found a safe hiding place in the mountains, supporting themselves by making raids on the travelers and post stations along the great Siberian road. They were doubtless under efficient leadership, and though Valbort seemed to be in command of all at the present time, Donald felt convinced that he was not the actual chief. The fact that Val- bort had made his way eastward after escaping from the Tomsk prison, proved that he must have known of the exist- ence of this band and had purposely gone to join it. For the same reason Leontef and Gross had made their dar- ing escape a few days before. There was nothing strange about this, for it is awell known fact that news of every nature is in some way transmitted among the exiles from one end of Siberia to the other. Donald watched with much interest the meeting between the two parties. Those convicts who had been rescued from the post station must have.had many acquaintances among the others to judge from the warm welcome that was extended to them. They embraced affectionately and in some cases shed tears. The greater part of this convict band probably belonged to the ‘ Ter- rorists "—that vast secret organization. of Russia which relies on dynamite and assassination for the accomplishment of its ends, and has nothing in common with the Socialists, who advocate milder measures. Donald, who held aloof from the rest, was regarded with suspicion and made the object of more than one whispered conversation. No one but Valbort knew him and that individual was too deeply engaged in consultation with one of his companions to make any explanation. Donald was standing near enough to catch a whisper of their conversation and the words made his heart leap. ‘“‘ Where is the girl?” asked Valbort. ‘‘T hope no harm has befallen her.” ‘“No,” replied the other. ‘She is safe and even in good spirits. It was thought best to send her on ahead. You know——” Here the conversation be- came inaudible and a moment later Val- bort gave the order to move forward. It was now late in the afternoon. In two hours at most the sun would go down. The convicts—who now num- bered twenty five—fellin with alacrity behind Valbort who led the way to the shore of the river at a point where a high wall of rock fell sheer into the stream. Without hesitation, Valbort entered the water and waded cautiously for- ward, keeping close to the steep rocky bank. A distance of nearly a quarter of a mile was traversed in this way, but no word of complaint:'escaped any of the men, thongh the water, which at the deepest point did not come to their knees, must have soaked through their boots and chilled their feet painfully. It was necessary to cling to the rocky wall, for just beyond it the water grew deep and rapid and was full of floating cakes of ice. 7 At length Valbort stepped out on a narrow ledge, which began almost at the water’s edge and gradually mounted along the face of the cliff, which rose to a height of several hundred feet and partially overhung the river, so that it was impossible for any one traveling on the ledge to be seen from above. The path was a narrow and dizzy one, but the convicts fearlessly followed their guide, taking care not to look down into the gulf below. Donald’s curiosity increased as he went forward. Hebegan to realize that these men had chosen a hiding place absolutely impregnable and safe from pursuit. That quarter of a mile stretch through the water would effectually throw all pursuers off the track. The narrow path crept upward by degrees for half a mile until it was scarcely twenty feet from the overhang- ing brow of the mountain, and then it turned and led downward by a gradual slope of a mile or more—barely wide enough for one man to walk safely— though he must needs be clear headed to do even that—and never varying in width. Finally, when it was only a few feet above the water, the path made a sharp angle and came to an abruptend. One by one the men disappeared around this corner until it came Donald's turn, and the next instant he was standing in the strangest place he had ever seen in his life. Before him was a great hollow—a natural recess scooped right out of the solid rock. In shape it was like a cres- Colin cent. A beach, paved with pebbles and big stones, served for the floor. It fol- lowed the water's edge for a distance of fifty or sixty feet’ and extended al- most as far into the cavern. at its deep- est part. The.place was absolutely im- pregnable andseecure from discovery, for the extent of the beach was cut off at each end by walis of rock which fell sheer into the water. Along the face of the lower wall ran the narrow path by which the men had come, but the upper wall was as smooth as glass—without a crevice or projection. Far overhead was the brow of the mountain, extending outward to such a distance that none could gaze down upon the beach from the summit. And upon the opposite shore of the river— which at this point was a seething whirl- pool plunging madly amid jagged rocks ——-towered high pinnacles, rising sheer from the water, and heavily timbered. The most skilled mountain climber could scarcely have gained access to their tops. In short, the spotchosen by these escaped convicts for their place of re- fuge was absolutely safe from the prying eyes of the Cossacks. These points Donald noted at a brief glance, and then he gave his attention to the scene before him, which was wel} calculated to excite his interest and curiosity. One corner of the cavern was filled up with stuff that must have been plundered from travelers and post stations along the great Siberian road— innumerable cases of biscuit and dried meats, canned goods and salted fish, hampers of wine, kegs of vodsa, and a vast store of arms and ammunition. Against the rear wall of the cavern were great masses of fir and spruce boughs—evidently used for bedding— and a stack of military blankets, all nearly roiled up. The only apparent occupants of the place when Valbort and his band arrived, were two rough looking men toasting their limbs éver a cheerful wood fire, but a moment later a more striking fig- ure appeared on the scene from behind @ great rock in the farthest corner of the cavern. ; The new comer was a man of massive build and herculean proportions, be- tween fifty and sixty years of age, to judge from his iron gray beard and mustache—though his flery eyes and elastic step would have done credit to a much younger man. His features bore the unmistakable stamp of crime and desperation, and on his smooth white forehead was a long purple scar. One glance at this strange mark sent a shudder through Donald from head to foot, and in an instant memory flashed into his mind, word for word, the proc- lamation he had seen tacked up on the. gateway of the post station. The iden- tification was complete in every partic- ular, and left no room for doubt. The man before him—the leader of this band of convicts—was the famous assassin and ‘‘ Terrorist,” Feodor Baranok, who had escaped from the mines of Kara more than a year before, and on whose head was set a price of 5,000 rubles. Donald's startled features attracted the attention of Baranok. He strode towards him, but suddenly changed his mind and turned aside to greet some of the newly joined members of the band. Meanwhile, under Valbort’s super- vision, more wood was heaped on the fire, and cooking vessels were brought forward, preparatory to getting supper. The sun was now out of sight. Night was at hand. CHAPTER XVI. IN A TIGHT PLACE. T was a strange and weird scene that lay before Donald's eyes a few moments later. Close to the fire, in the narrow radius of light which made Eloookks, Conn