Argosy, Vol. 112, No. 2 — page 38: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

204 “Say,” demanded the American sud- denly, ‘“‘ what’s this Bolsheviki business all about anyhow?” The Russian’s features lighted. It was pathetic. He was one of the impractical dreamer types with which great Russia is clogged at the moment; he saw in the lean, capable American a possible convert. — “You wait,” he said. ‘I bring Ivanoff! He tell you.” The young man paused at the door. ‘“ But you were to send telegrafs about the money.” “Sure,” admitted Jim. He was appar- ently interested, deeply interested, in what he saw in the paper before him. The Russian went out. Jim turned and saw that his Czech friend was regarding him out of feverish but understanding eyes. “We're in one of their headquarters vil- lages, I guess, Joe. This pile of literature looks like it. And we’re in a mighty tight place. But we’ve got to carry the bluff through somehow—” “T hear you—make talk—about tele- graf,” whispered the Czech. “Sure. I’m fourflushing, making them think I’m going to send wires that ‘Il wise | them where those rubles are.” “To who will you send, Meester Herring. What will you make say?” “Damned if I know, Joe,” returned the other honestly. ‘‘ Our only chance of get- ting out of here is keeping our wits!” “Why did they not keel me, Meester Herring?”’ “Because I raised hell about it, Joe.” The Czech lay silent for a few moments. “Vou are brave man and good friend, Meester Herring,”’ he declared finally. “T’m a coward—and a cheap skate,” re- turned the American thickly. It was the first time in his life that any one had ever called him a brave man. “We've got to get out of here, Joe, and when we leave we’ve got to have that money. I’ve got to get back to America. I’ve got a new job cut out for me.” 9 The Czech turned his wounded head away. “We never get out, Meester Herring,” he whispered. ‘“ You do not know Bolshe- - Viki.” “Perhaps not. But I know a girl some- THE ARGOSY. where in this country of blood and junk who’s got a date with me in Vladivostok to get married when the business is over. And the whole damned Kaiser’s army can’t keep me from her. You go to sleep and get your strength back. Within the coming three or four days—if the gods let us live that long, we're going to have our work cut out for us and you'll need your nerve and your muscle—”’ ‘What will you do, Meester Herring?” ‘ T’ve got several schemes. One of them has occurred to me since arriving in this dung-hole. I'll tell you when you’re in bet- ter shape to hear it.” Their conversation was cut short by the return of the interpreter with a companion. The former had pencil and paper. “You had better write telegraf,” he sug- gested cannily. ‘“T’m agreeable,” Jim declared. _ He smiled. He took the pencil and paper and crossed to the table. There he sat for a time, chewing the lead of the pencil. ‘How will you get this message sent?” he demanded when he had it completed. “We have telegraf man, leetle station somewhere, is Bolsheviki.” ‘* Aren’t the wires cut?” “No wire Vladivostok. yeschensk all very good.” ‘All right. Send this message to Blagov- yeschensk, And tell your commandant that it is going to take a few days to run this money down. If he will be patient I will do my best for him.” The man took the paper. had written: H. C. WHEELER: Czecho-Slovak Headquarters, Blagovyeschensk, Siberia. When will Chapman leave with the money ? Am delayed. Can carry it through and save him trip. Answer care of bearer. HERRING. Wire Blagov- On it Jim “Instruct your Bolsheviki agent who will probably deliver that wire, to return his answer here, supplying the secret address which vou can give him. It is up to you. When I get the reply, we will see what further steps will be advisable. One cannot capture a million rubles in a moment.” The young man’s face wore a crestfallen (eC) Gomichbooks