Five minutes to nine and yet no call.  Wrinkles came to her forehead, her step grew more impatient.

“If he does not call, what shall I do?” she asked herself.

Then there came the sharp ring of the telephone.  She sprang to the instrument, but the call was for another member of the club.

Three minutes in which to decide.  She walked thoughtfully across the floor.  Should she go?  Her money was now almost gone.  It was true that a treasure, which to many would seem a vast fortune, had disappeared from her father’s house over night.  It had been taken by force.  And she knew the man who had taken it; had followed him thousands of miles.  Now there had come to her a man of her own race, who assured her that the treasure was not in the possession of the man who had stolen it, but in the possession of an honest man who would willingly surrender it to her, providing only he could be made certain that it was to go directly into her hands.  That this might be, he demanded that she meet him at a certain place known to the strange Japanese.  There she might prove her property.  The story did seem plausible—­and her need was great.  Soon she would be cast out upon the world without a penny.  So long as she had money she was welcome at this club; not longer.

There came the purring of a muffled bell in the hall.  He had come.

Should she go?  A mood of reckless desperation seized her.

“I will,” she declared.

The next instant she was tucking a short, gleaming blade beneath her silk middy and then drawing on a long silk coat.

The man waited in the hallway.  He was doubtless prepared for another extended argument, but none came.  Instead, the girl walked down the steps with him and into a waiting taxi.

It was a rather long ride they took.  First speeding along between rows of apartment houses they at last dashed into the business section of the city.  The stranger sat in one corner of the cab, not saying a word.  Passing through the business section, they approached the river.  It was then that Cio-Cio-San’s heart began to be filled with dread.  She had heard of many dark deeds done down by the river.  But after all, what could they want of her, a poor Japanese girl, almost without funds?

The cab came to a stop with a jolt.  A tall building loomed above them.  The strange Japanese held the door open that she might alight.  She stepped to the sidewalk, and, at that instant, strong arms seized her, pinning her arms to her sides, while a coarse cloth was drawn tightly over her mouth.  She then felt herself being pushed through space, and the next moment heard the muffled echoes of the footsteps of her captors.  They were in the basement of some great deserted building, the sound told her that.

“Betrayed!  Betrayed!” her mind kept repeating.  “Betrayed by one of my own people!”

CHAPTER XVII