Johnny studied the situation carefully, and the more he studied, the more baffled he became.  If a boat had been tied to the windowsill there would have been marks on the casing.  There were no such marks; yet, the fugitives had gone that way.  He thought of the shots fired from the river the previous night and tried to connect the two.  He could not make it out.

“Dey’s gone!” said Jerry the Rat.  “Did dey fleece y’?”

Johnny smiled.  “They were trying to croak me, Jerry, and they nearly did it.  Got a bump on my head big as a turkey buzzard’s egg.”

“Who wuz dey?”

“That’s what I don’t know altogether.  Say, Jerry, are there some tough characters hanging around the river these days that ain’t regular crooks?”

“Is dey?  Dere’s a mess of ’em!”

“Where do they stay?” asked Johnny eagerly.

“Dat’s it.”  The little fellow scratched his head.  “I bin skulkin’ ’round ’em to find out.  Sometimes I follers ’em, like now.  Dey always drop out like this.  Dey’s queer.  Dey ain’t regular crooks, nor regular guys either.  Dey’s cookin’ soup for sump’n big.”

“That’s what I think,” said Johnny.  “What are they like?

“Dey’s five Roosians, three Heinies, one Wop, an’ one Jap, I seen.”

“Say, Jerry,” said Johnny suddenly, “do you want to earn some honest money?”

“Not work?”

“No, spyin’.”

“Not on me pals?  Not on regular crooks?”

“No, on these queer ones.”

“I’m on.  Wot’s de lay?”

“Find where they stay.  Hunt them day and night till you do.  Here’s a twenty.  There’s more where that came from.  There’s a century note if you get them.  Get me?”

The Rat ducked his head in assent.

“Then good night.”

“Night,” he mumbled.

They were out of the building now and Johnny made his way cautiously back to his room.  He had had quite enough for one night.  Once he paused to thrust his hand beneath his vest.  Yes, the diamonds were still there.  His assailants had not had time to find them.  He was not sure whether he was glad or sorry.

CHAPTER XVI

CIO-CIO-SAN BETRAYED

Very alert, Johnny Thompson at the stroke of eight the next night crept from a narrow runway between two buildings and walked briskly down the street.  He had reached the runway by a route known only to himself.  He was sure that for a time, at least, he would not be followed.  At last he reached the bridge which was coming to harbor many mysteries for him.  Halfway across the span he paused, and sinking into the shadow of an iron girder, began watching the surface of the water.

He was, in fact, attempting to understand those murky depths.  From his room he had detected a strange light.  Either reflected on the water or shining up through it, this light appeared a pale yellow glow, such as he had often seen given off by the jelly fish in the Pacific.  That there was no such jelly fish to be found in fresh water he knew quite well.  And he had never in his life noticed that glow in the river.