Panther Eye Part 11

"Charged! Charged to the gunwale!" he exulted. "Now if we can only hook them up with the heating system of this cabin, we're all right. Give us a hand."

Jarvis, catching his idea, began searching for the connecting wires of the heating system, while Dave connected the batteries in series.

"'Ere they are," he exclaimed suddenly. "Right 'ere, me lad."

Soon a life-sustaining warmth came gently stealing over the place.

"Take hoff 'alf the batteries," suggested Jarvis, "'alf's a plenty.

There's no tellin' 'ow long we'll be sailin' in this hark."

This was hardly done when their attention was attracted by the stranger.

He had groaned and turned over.

"Now that it's warm enough," suggested Dave, "we'd better try to help the poor fellow back to consciousness. If he hasn't suffered a concussion of the brain, he'll live yet, and perhaps he can tell us things. There are plenty of questions I'd like to ask him."

"Yes," exclaimed Jarvis eagerly. "'Oo killed Frank Langlois."

They went to work over the man. Having removed his outer garments, they unb.u.t.toned his shirt and began chafing his hands, arms and chest, till they were rewarded by a sigh of returning consciousness.

"Where am I?" the man whispered, as he opened his eyes.

"You're all right," answered Dave quickly. "Drink this and go back to sleep."

He held a cup of steaming malted milk to the man's lips. He drank it slowly. Then, turning an inquiring look on Dave, he murmured, "American?"

In another second he was lost in a sleeping stupor.

Dave twisted himself about and gazed down at the panorama of purple shadows that flitted along beneath them.

"Patient doing well," he murmured at last. "Going due north by west. Forty miles an hour, I'd say. Beautiful prospects for all of us, Mr. Jarvis.

Going right on into a land that does not belong to anybody and where n.o.body lives. Upon which hundred thousand square miles would you prefer to land?"

Jarvis did not answer. He was dreaming day dreams of other adventures he had had in that strange no man's land.

Finally he shook himself and mumbled:

"No 'opes. No 'opes."

"Oh, I wouldn't say it was as bad as that," smiled Dave. "Let's have a cup of tea."

"Yes, let's," murmured Jarvis.

CHAPTER X

PLAYING A LONE HAND

Hardly had Johnny Thompson in Vladivostok uttered his warning to the doctor than a figure leaped out at him from a dark doorway. Not having expected an attack from this direction, Johnny was caught unprepared. A knife flashed. He felt a heavy impact on his chest. A loud snap followed by a scream from his a.s.sailant. There came the wild patter of fleeing footsteps, then the little drama ended.

"Hurt?" inquired the doctor, a deep concern expressed in his tone.

"Nope," Johnny smiled. "But I'm afraid the rascal's ripped a hole in one of my moose-hide sacks. The gold is leaking out."

"Hang the gold!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the doctor. "Let it go. It's done its part--saved your life. An armor of gold! I'd say that's some cla.s.s!"

"That's all right," said Johnny, still keeping an eye out for other a.s.sailants. "But sentiment won't buy biscuits and honey for starving children. Gold will. Give us a hand at stopping the leak."

"Go easy," admonished the doctor, "you'll give the whole thing away."

They worked cautiously, revealing nothing to a possible prying eye. When the task was completed, Johnny stooped to pick up the hilt of the broken blade. He turned it over and over in his hand, regarding it curiously.

"Oriental, all right," he murmured. "I wonder if those little rascals could have beaten us here."

"Come on," exclaimed the doctor impatiently, "this is no place for wondering. I'm for a safe place inside somewhere."

A few turns brought them to Red Cross headquarters, and to one of the big surprises of Johnny's rather adventurous life. He had hardly crossed the threshold when his lips framed the word:

"Mazie!"

Could he believe his eyes? Yes, there she was, the girl chum of his boyhood days, the girl who had played tennis and baseball with him, who had hiked miles upon miles with him, who swam the sweeping Ohio river with him. The girl who, in Chicago, having tried to locate him, had come near to losing her life in a submarine.

"Mazie! Mazie!" he whispered. Then, "How did you come here?"

"By boat, of course," smiled Mazie. "How'd you think?" She took both his hands in hers.

"But, Mazie, this is a man's place. It's dangerous. Besides, what--"

"What's my business? Well, you see, I'm your agent. I'm going to spend all that splendid gold you've been digging to help the orphans. I'm 'M.' It was I who did all that frantic wireless stuff. Did you get it?"

"I did," smiled Johnny, "and if I'd known it was you I would have come on by wireless."

"But now," he said, after a moment's reflection, "as Jerry the Rat would say, 'Wot's de lay?'"

Mazie sighed. "Honest, Johnny, have you the gold? Because if you haven't, it's 'Home, James,' for me. These Russians are the most suspicious people!

They've threatened to put me aboard ship twenty times because I wasn't making good. I wasn't feeding anybody, as I have said I would. And, oh, Johnny!" she gripped his arm, "the last three days I've been so frightened! Every time I ventured out, day or night, I have seen little yellow men d.o.g.g.i.ng my footsteps; not j.a.panese military police, but just little yellow men."

"Hm," grunted Johnny, "I fancy Doc and I met one of them just now. He seemed to know us, too. Here's his dagger."

"Broken?" exclaimed Mazie. "How?"

Johnny stepped to the door of the small parlor and closed it.

"Gold," he whispered, "an armor of gold."

From beneath his coat he drew a sack of gold.