“She is not of the secret police.  She helps me as a friend, that’s all, and I will help her if I can.”

Johnny wished to question him regarding the treasure, but something held him back.

“So you see how it is.”  Hanada spoke wearily.  “We have gone so far, so very far.  Mebbe to-morrow, mebbe next day, we would have uncovered their lair; but to-night the police are on my trail, for ‘treason’ they call it.  Bah!  It was a dream, a great and wonderful dream; a dream that would mean much for your country and mine.”  His words were full of mystery.  “But now they will arrest me, and you must carry on the hunt for the Russian and his band.  This other thing, it can wait.  It will come, sometime, but not now.”

“What other?” asked Johnny.

Hanada did not answer.

There came the stealthy shuffle of feet in the corridor.

“They are coming,” whispered Hanada.  “Remember my testimony will free you, but you must not stop; you must hunt as never before, you must get that man!”

There came, not the expected tattoo of police billies on the door, but a shrill whisper through the key-hole: 

“Johnny,” the voice said, “are you there?  Let me in.  I seen it!  I seen it!  I get the century note you promised me!  Let me in!”

* * * * *

When Mazie entered the taxi with the man who was an entire stranger to her she did it on the impulse of the moment.  The swift sequence of events had carried her off her feet.  First, she had been startled into the hope that Johnny still lived; then she had been assured by the police sergeant that he could not possibly be living, only to be told a moment later by this stranger that he was still alive.

Once she had settled back against the cushions and felt the jolt of the taxi over the car tracks, she began to have misgivings.  Was this a trap?  Had she better call to the driver and demand to be allowed to alight?  A glance at her fellow traveler tended to reassure her.  He was undoubtedly a foreigner, but was an honest-looking fellow and neatly dressed.

As the cab lurched into a side street toward the river, she again experienced misgivings; but this time it was the faint hope still lingering in her breast of seeing her good pal once more that kept her in her seat.

The taxi paused before an old building which was enshrouded in darkness.  She was ushered out of the taxi and the next instant, before she had time to cry out, she was bound and gagged.  Her feet were tied as well as her hands, and she was hastily carried into the building.  Through rooms and halls all dark as night she was half carried, half dragged, until she found herself out over the swirling waters of the river.

Wild questions rushed through her brain.  Was this murder?  Bound and gagged as she was, would she be thrown into the river to drown?  Why?  Who were these men?  She had not believed until that moment that she had an enemy in the world.  She knew no secrets that could inspire anyone to kill her.