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He raised his wounded comrade from the water.
Page [210].

Soldiers of Fortune Series

Under the Mikado’s Flag

OR
YOUNG SOLDIERS OF FORTUNE
BY
EDWARD STRATEMEYER
Author of “On to Pekin,” “Two Young Lumbermen,” “Old Glory
Series,” “Colonial Series,” “American Boys’ Life of
William McKinley,” etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY A. B. SHUTE

BOSTON:
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.

Published November, 1904
Copyright, 1904, by Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Company

All rights reserved

Under The Mikado’s Flag
Norwood Press
Berwick and Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass.
U.S.A.

PREFACE

“Under the Mikado’s Flag” relates the adventures of two young Americans in Korea and Manchuria during the outbreak of the great war between Russia and Japan, which has for its primary object the settling of the vexing question of how much of the Liao-tung Peninsula shall remain under Russian control, and whether or not this control shall eventually be extended to Korea.

In the tale are related some of the causes which led up to this struggle, and also the particulars of the sinking of many ships of war, the numerous attacks upon Port Arthur, the landing of the Japanese troops at Chemulpo and other points, and the advance northward through Korea to the Yalu River. Here the Russians made a strong stand, but being outnumbered they were forced to retreat; and then followed numerous other skirmishes and battles, leading up to the great conflict before Liao-Yang, in which half a million men fought desperately for days—an encounter which has few parallels in modern history.

To those who have read a previous volume of mine, entitled “On to Pekin,” the leading character of the present story will perhaps seem like an old friend. Gilbert Pennington had already served in Cuba, in the Philippines, and in China, so it was no new thing for him to don a soldier’s uniform and go forth to fight as of yore. And what was true of the young man who had once been a lieutenant of the United States regulars, was likewise true of his bosom chum, Ben Russell, and their faithful old comrades-in-arms, Carl Stummer and Dan Casey.

At the present writing it is impossible to predict what the outcome of this great war will be. The resources of Russia are tremendous, but that nation has many troubles at home. On the other hand, the sturdy Japanese are fighting with wonderful bravery thinking nothing of facing death at every turn and with a strategy which is as successful as it is astonishing.

Once more let me thank my young friends for the interest they have shown in my previous books. May they find the present volume equally interesting and profitable.

Edward Stratemeyer.

October 1, 1904.

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

UNDER THE MIKADO’S FLAG

CHAPTER I
A MATTER OF BUSINESS

“Then you have no idea what has become of this Ivan Snokoff, Mr. Chase?”

“Not the slightest, Lieutenant Pennington. I met him at Dalny about a month ago, but since that time I have not seen him.”

“Can you give me any information concerning this trading company of which he was the head?”

“Perhaps,” was the slow answer. Nathan Chase rubbed his chin reflectively. “Would you mind telling me why you put the question?”

“The answer is simple enough,” replied Gilbert Pennington. “As you know, I am connected with the Richmond Importing Company, of the United States.”

“Yes, I know that. They tell me you are one of the principal stockholders.”

“I am a stockholder, although not the principal one. But I am also connected with the company as a selling agent. About six months ago our concern sold Ivan Snokoff five thousand dollars’ worth of goods. We have been trying to collect the bill ever since.”

“Phew! No wonder you are interested. Is the whole amount still due?”

“No, one thousand dollars have been paid. But it looks now as if we should have to whistle for the remaining four thousand unless I can lay my hands on Snokoff.”

“I thought there was something crooked about Snokoff and his company from the very start,” went on Nathan Chase, as he settled back in his office chair. “They didn’t do business in the fair and square fashion of most Russian firms. They sold goods almost regardless of cost. No firm can do that and pay its debts. They claimed to be establishing trade, but trade established in that manner isn’t worth having.”

“I agree with you.”

“The offices across the way were shut up ten days ago. Only a clerk and a porter were in charge. They have disappeared like them employer.”

“Can you give me their names?”

“The clerk’s name was Vanskynov. Somebody said he came to Port Arthur from Mukden. I know nothing of the porter.”

“It’s too bad.” Gilbert Pennington drew a long breath. “I’d give a few dollars just to lay my hands on this Ivan Snokoff. I’d let him know what I thought of him.”

“Have you reported the affair to the authorities?”

“Not yet. I have been hoping right along that I might spot Snokoff somewhere. Besides, matters here seem to be very unsettled just now.”

“You are right there, lieutenant. And they may be more unsettled before long.”

“Do you think there will be war between Russia and Japan?”

“It looks very much like it. How long have you been in Manchuria?”

“I came over from Nagasaki a week ago.”

“Then you know but little of affairs here. Russia has been fortifying this port for several months, and our harbor is filled with warships.”

“I saw some of the warships as our vessel came up the harbor. If war should come, Port Arthur may have a hot time of it.”

“Exactly.” There was a pause. “Anything else I can do for you, lieutenant? If not, I’ll get at my desk work. My correspondence has been very heavy lately.”

“Nothing more, Mr. Chase. I am much obliged to you.”

“Not at all. I am always glad to do what I can for a brother American. Come in again and let me know how you make out.”

“I will,” answered Gilbert Pennington, and after a hearty handshake he left the main offices of the Anglo-Chinese Trading Company and walked slowly up the broad and well-kept business street of Port Arthur upon which the buildings of the concern were located.

Gilbert Pennington was a young man of Southern blood and strong military tendencies. He came from Richmond, Virginia, and upon the death of his parents had drifted, first to the West Indies and then to New York. This was during the opening of our war with Spain, and fired with patriotism, the young Southerner entered the volunteer service and became one of Roosevelt’s Rough Riders, as related in one of my previous books, entitled “A Young Volunteer in Cuba.”

From Cuba the young soldier shifted to the Philippines where, in company with his old-time chums, the Russell boys, he saw much active service under Generals Otis and McArthur, and the much-lamented General Lawton, many particulars of which are given in “Under Otis in the Philippines” and other volumes of the “Old Glory Series.”

While the young soldier was in the Philippines he joined the regular army and shortly after this was sent to China, to aid in the suppression of the Boxer uprising and the rescue of many missionaries and others who had fled to the legations in Pekin for safety. As a lieutenant in the regulars Gilbert saw a good deal of hard fighting, the particulars of which have been set forth in “On to Pekin.” In this volume are also related how the young soldier overturned a plot to cheat him out of his legal share of stock of the Richmond Importing Company, and how he at last came into possession of sixteen thousand dollars of stock which was then worth exactly twice its face value.

Since those strenuous days many changes had taken place. With the rebellion in the Philippines and the uprising in China at an end, the young American had left the army as speedily as possible and applied himself strictly to business. New men were now at the head of the Importing Company, and as Gilbert had a fair knowledge of Japan, Korea, and the eastern coast of China, he was made the selling agent in that territory. For over a year he had done very well at this receiving both a salary and a commission, with all expenses paid.

The first real snag had been struck when he had started to do business with Ivan Snokoff, who represented himself as the head of the Russian-American Importing and Exporting Company, with headquarters at Port Arthur,—a city leased to the Russians by China, and located at the extreme southern part of the Liao-tung Peninsula of Manchuria.

Snokoff could speak English fairly well, and he was one of the smoothest talkers possible to imagine. He said he had many relatives in the United States, and loved to do business with the Yankees because they were so straightforward and honest.

“I lof not the Germans or the Englees,” said Ivan Snokoff. “It is them who are too sharp for the poor Russian, yes. Ivan Snokoff will trade with his friend Pennington, yes—then he will be safe,” and he nearly crushed Gilbert’s fingers with the warmth of his grasp.

Gilbert was too easy-going to see through such a wily schemer as Ivan Snokoff. He took the Russian’s words in good faith, and a mere statement from several others that Snokoff undoubtedly had money was accepted without question. He also learned that a certain Captain Barusky had a share in the Russian company, and that the Baruskys were wealthy.

The first consignment of goods had amounted to four hundred dollars and the second to twelve hundred dollars. Both consignments had been paid for promptly, and Gilbert and the others connected with the Richmond Company had congratulated themselves on having acquired such a customer at Port Arthur, which was rather a hard city in which to sell American goods.

Then came the five-thousand-dollar order. “I have a great chance to make much money, yes,” said Ivan Snokoff. “Send the goods quickly, and I will discount the whole bill. Do not delay, no—or my rival will get the order instead of me.” And the goods were shipped as quickly as possible, Gilbert sending the order by cablegram. Ivan Snokoff was truly delighted and spoke enthusiastically of his profits. But the settlement was delayed from time to time, and then suddenly the Russian disappeared, the offices were closed up, and it slowly dawned upon Gilbert and the Company that they had been led into a trap and swindled.

At first the young American knew not what to do. He was in a foreign country, and his Russian rivals had never wanted him to do business there. Not one of them was willing to give him any information concerning Snokoff or his connections, and at the bank it was stated that the rascal had closed his account and not shown himself since. Even the customhouse officials could tell nothing. Gilbert had feared to go to the police, knowing that the police department of Russia is a wonderful and fearful institution, and that the officers might lock him up for having had anything to do with Snokoff in the first place.

“But I’m going to bring that fellow to justice somehow,” said Gilbert to himself more than once. “He shan’t escape as easily as he thinks.”

Mr. Nathan Chase was an American merchant who did business both at Port Arthur and at Tien-Tsin. Gilbert had met him once at the latter city, while the young American was still a soldier. The merchant had just come back to Port Arthur after a trip to Pekin, and as soon as Gilbert heard of this he made the call which has just been described.

Gilbert knew that a war between Japan and Russia would greatly complicate matters. He had heard about this at Nagasaki, and could now see that preparations for resisting an attack had been going forward in and around Port Arthur during the entire winter. All the forts had been strengthened, and the city was filled with soldiers from Russia. Many of the Chinese and Japanese residents of the place were leaving, and the railroad station was crowded from morning to night.

“If Port Arthur should be attacked by the Japanese, everything will be upset here,” thought the young American dismally. “In the excitement such a thing as having Snokoff arrested will be out of the question. I wish——”

Gilbert’s thoughts were interrupted at this moment by the appearance of a young man who was hurrying along the street, a bundle in each hand. A second look at the fellow convinced the young American that the individual was Ivan Snokoff’s clerk.

“Hold on!” he shouted, and running forward, caught the clerk by the arm. The fellow stopped, looked at the young American in alarm, and then tried to jerk away.

“Let me go,” he said, in Russian.

“I wish to talk to you,” answered Gilbert, who had picked up a smattering of the language.

“What do you want?”

“I want to know what has become of Ivan Snokoff.”

“I know not.”

“You worked for him. How came you to close up the offices so unexpectedly?”

“By my master’s orders.”

“Do you know he owes our company a great deal of money?”

At this the young Russian shrugged his shoulders.

“What have I to do with that? You made your bargain with him, not with me.”

“That is true, but if you are honest you will not mind telling me where he is.”

“Have I not said that I do not know?” The clerk hesitated and then squinted at Gilbert suggestively. “No, I cannot tell you where Ivan Snokoff is, but—but——”

“But what?”

“Sire, I am a poor man, and I have a wife and two children to support.”

“You are too young to have a wife and two children.”

“No, sire, it is true. I was seventeen when I was married, and Ulma, my wife, was but fifteen.”

“Do you mean to say you need money?”

“It is true. Ivan Snokoff left me without work, and owing me money. I have next to nothing saved. To-day I am moving my family to poorer quarters. In another two weeks my money will all be gone.”

“What has all this to do with me?”

“’Tis plain enough, sire. You need information, Nicholas Vanskynov needs money. Let us make an exchange.”

“You will tell me something of value if I will pay you for it?”

“Yes.”

“How much do you want?”

Again the young Russian shrugged his shoulders.

“What shall I say? You are a rich man and will never miss a few rubles.”

“Well, I shall not mind paying you a few rubles if you can really tell me something of value,” answered Gilbert.

“Then come to some place where it is warm and I will tell you all I know,” returned Nicholas Vanskynov.

CHAPTER II
GILBERT LEARNS SOMETHING

The winter had been long and severe in Manchuria, and even now, early in February, it was biting cold and with a touch of snow in the air at Port Arthur.

Close at hand was a shop where refreshments of various kinds could be had and to this place Gilbert led the way making certain that the Russian followed. He saw at a glance that Nicholas Vanskynov was a fellow of small caliber and could readily be handled if given a little money. Sitting down to a table he ordered a cup of coffee and some fancy cakes for himself and asked the other what he would have.

“Since you are so kind, I will take a glass of quass,” was the answer, quass being a sour beer much used by Russians.

“Now, what can you tell me of value?” asked the young American, after the refreshments had been brought and Vanskynov had partaken of the liquor with apparent satisfaction.

“Let us first speak of the reward, sire.”

“How much do you want?” demanded Gilbert sharply. “Remember, I can hand you over to the police, if I desire.”

“The police!” At the threat the young Russian grew pale, for the police department is a terror to all who live under Russian law, its findings being generally final and absolute. “How so?”

“For aiding Ivan Snokoff to get away without paying his just debts.”

“I did not aid him, no, no! When he went I thought all was right—I did not learn the truth until later. I have lost much myself, for I thought I was to have a steady position with him.”

“How much do you want me to pay you?”

“Not much, sire, no. Surely you will never miss ten rubles,” went on the young Russian, mentioning a sum less than eight dollars, a Russian ruble being worth, at the present time, 76 to 78 cents.

“Can you give me information of value?”

“I think I can.”

“Then tell me what you know, and if the news is worth anything you shall have your money.”

“Ah, I knew the American would be generous to a poor Russian—the United States is a great country.”

“What do you know?”

“It is of Captain Barusky that I would speak—he who comes of a most honorable family.”

“The same captain that had an interest in the trading company?” questioned Gilbert quickly.

“Yes, the same. He and Ivan Snokoff are great friends—I have heard that they have been in many business ventures together.”

“Do you know where Captain Barusky is?”

“He was out of active service for several years, but now he is once more in the army. Since it looks so much like war with Japan the Czar has called upon all our country’s defenders to take their proper places in the army and the navy.”

“And where is this Captain Barusky stationed?”

“He was at Mukden, but I have heard that he was seen at one of the forts of this port only day before yesterday.”

“What fort?”

“That I cannot tell, but I think it was the one nearest to the dry dock.”

“I am glad to know this,” said Gilbert slowly. He was wondering how he could get hold of his man. “Do you know for a fact that he was a partner in the company?”

“Yes, for I once saw the papers. Besides, he once lent Ivan Snokoff six hundred rubles with which to pay off certain bills for goods, and I know he shared in the profits. They were a pair of sly foxes. Were I you, I should have this bold captain held by the authorities. It may be he will then reveal what has become of Ivan Snokoff.”

“I’ll certainly do something—if I can find him.” Gilbert was silent for a moment. “Give me your new address,” he continued. “I may want you again.”

“And the rubles——”

“Here they are,” and the young American counted out the amount in Russian scrip, for silver rubles are now but seldom seen. “I’ll give you a good deal more, if you’ll aid me to get back what belongs to our company.”

“Nicholas Vanskynov is at your service, sire. Here is the address,” and it was written down in a notebook which Gilbert brought forth.

After this the young American questioned the Russian clerk closely concerning Ivan Snokoff’s methods of doing business. He learned that all the goods sold had been shipped out of Manchuria, so that to trace them farther was next to impossible. Beyond a doubt Captain Barusky was hand-in-glove with Snokoff, and the pair had cleaned up a good many thousand dollars by their nefarious actions.

After parting with the Russian clerk, Gilbert attended to various matters of business for the balance of that day and also for the morning of the next. While he war near the railroad station he saw a long train come in from the north packed with soldiers.

“This certainly looks like war,” he reasoned, as he watched the soldiers leave the train and march off to a temporary barracks. “And those chaps look as if they meant business, too,” he continued, noticing how well the body was drilled. “I declare, it arouses my old fighting blood just to look at them!” And he drew himself up as of old, when he was a lieutenant under Old Glory.

War talk was everywhere, and Russians and foreigners of all sorts filled the streets and discussed the situation in subdued tones. The Japanese said but little, and the Russians gave them the blackest of looks as they passed by.

The strained situation between Japan and Russia was of long standing. In a work of this kind it is not necessary to go into all the details which led to the great war which was so close at hand. Sufficient be it to say that Japan objected strongly to having any part of China or Korea held by Russia, and viewed with alarm the strong fortifications of Port Arthur, the building of the great Trans-Siberian railroad from the frontier to the port itself, and the occupation of other Chinese towns by the Russians.

“In but a few years more Russia will claim both Manchuria and Korea,” said the Japanese, “and then our own safety will be menaced.” Which was certainly true, for the islands that make up the kingdom of Japan lie directly to the southeast of the territory named, with nothing but the Sea of Japan between. More than this, the occupation of Manchuria and Korea by the Russians would interfere seriously with Japanese trade—a commerce that amounted to many millions of dollars annually.

This was the Japanese side of the story. On the Russian side, that country claimed it was not occupying anything for which it had not paid, and it was merely establishing itself in Manchuria to preserve peace and order.

“If we leave the Chinese to themselves in Manchuria no foreigners doing business there will be safe,” said the Russians. “The railroad is bound to come sooner or later, and we may as well build and own it as to leave the work to somebody else.” This was fair talk, yet the world at large felt that the whole scheme was one meant to enlarge Russian territory and power, and do it largely at ultimate expense to Japan.

Port Arthur is a commercial city of considerable size, located at the base of a series of hills overlooking the sea beyond. The entrance to the harbor itself, which is directly in front of the city, is long and narrow. On each spur of land are several forts, and beyond those on the right, as the harbor is entered, is a large basin, with a single dry dock. On the left is what is called West Port. The inner harbor is somewhat oval in shape, two miles wide from east to west, and a mile wide north to south.

As already mentioned, the fortifications were strong, yet the Russian authorities were doing all in their power to make them stronger. They were likewise bringing into the city vast quantities of supplies, for what purpose the foreigners could only imagine. Every mile of the railroad was being closely guarded, so that the Chinese natives, known to be friendly to the Japanese, might not tear up the tracks.

Gilbert knew that there were four forts located at the entrance to the harbor, and he determined to visit these before going to the other strongholds about the city. He understood very well that he would not be permitted inside any of the forts, but thought there would be no objections to his making inquiries about Captain Barusky.

“Those higher in command will certainly want to know what sort of a man he is,” thought Gilbert. “I don’t think they’ll endure anything crooked, even though they don’t want us Americans to take away Russian trade.”

His visit to the first fort was a failure. He was halted while still some distance off and asked his business.

“I am looking for a certain Captain Barusky,” said he. “Is he located here?”

The guard did not know.

“Can you find out for me?” was Gilbert’s next question.

“Not at present. Come in two hours. I shall be relieved then.”

This was all the young American could get out of the guard, and he was told, if he remained where he was, he would be arrested. Hearing this, Gilbert lost no time in hurrying away.

Some time later he was in the vicinity of the second fort. A great lot of extra stores had arrived and all was in confusion. Some Chinese coolies were handling the stuff and now some Russian soldiers came out to assist them, grumbling loudly because toe Chinese could not do the work alone.

Gilbert was greatly interested in the work of the coolies. Evidently they had to carry their loads to the very heart of the fort, for each was blindfolded and had to take hold of a rope, the front end of which was in the hands of a Russian sergeant. The sergeant brandished a whip, and if a coolie did not move to suit him, he would give the fellow a cut with the lash.

“This is certainly tough on the Chinamen,” thought the young American. “It’s a wonder they don’t revolt. If they wanted to, they could make matters warm for the Russians.”

The coolies having disappeared for the time being, the Russian soldiers came up for their loads. With them were several officers, one of whom eyed Gilbert narrowly.

All unconscious of what was taking place, Gilbert drew a little closer to the stores. Then of a sudden he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” demanded the Russian officer.

Gilbert was slightly startled and drew back. But the grip upon his shoulder was not relaxed.

“Tell me what you are doing here?” repeated the officer.

“Not very much,” was the young American’s answer.

“I saw you at the other fort a while ago.”

“That is true. I was——”

“What are you doing here?” demanded the Russian officer.—Page [20].

“Don’t try to explain here. Come with me. We allow no spying around here, I can tell you that. You are an American, I believe.”

“Yes.”

“So much the worse for you. Come with me.”

And somewhat against his will Gilbert was marched off to one of the buildings inside of the fortifications.

CHAPTER III
DETAINED BY THE RUSSIANS

In spite of the fact, well known to all in Port Arthur, that the Russians allowed no foreigners in or near their forts, Gilbert was much astonished to find himself virtually a prisoner of the officer who had detained him.

Almost before he knew it, he found himself in a small office attached to the fort proper. Here two burly soldiers were on guard, and each scowled ominously at him.

“I reckon I’ve put my foot into it this time,” he told himself.

He wished to explain to the officer, but the latter would not listen. A few words were spoken to one of the soldiers, in a Siberian dialect which Gilbert could not understand, and then the officer left as quickly as he had come.

“What are you going to do with me?” questioned the young American, after a moment of silence.

At this query each of the Russian soldiers merely shrugged his shoulders.

“You have no right to detain me in this manner,” went on Gilbert. “I am an American citizen and have done no wrong.”

For answer one of the soldiers motioned him to a bench and placed his rather dirty hand over Gilbert’s mouth, at the same time raising his gun. It was a hint to sit down and keep quiet, and feeling it would be useless to resist, Gilbert did as suggested.

Half an hour dragged by slowly, and the young American was growing impatient, when the officer who had first accosted him came back, accompanied by a dark, surly individual dressed in the uniform of a captain.

“Here is the American,” said the first of the pair. “I found him watching us rather closely.”

“Ha!” came from the second. He turned to Gilbert. “And what have you to say for yourself?”

“What is there to say?” returned the young American boldly. “Certainly I have done no wrong.”

“You were acting the part of a spy.”

“Not at all. I am looking for a certain Captain Barusky, who is, so I have been told, located at one of the forts in or near this port.”

“Captain Barusky? That is my name.”

“Indeed!” Gilbert was taken somewhat by surprise. He looked at the man closely, and the face did not at all please him.

“What do you want of me? What is your name?”

“I want to see you on business,” was Gilbert’s bold answer. “My name is Gilbert Pennington, and I am the selling agent for the Richmond Importing Company. I think you have heard of that concern.”

Captain Barusky started slightly and changed color. But he quickly recovered and took on a look of unconcern.

“I have heard of your company, yes, but I know little about it, and nothing about you.”

“Probably you know more about Ivan Snokoff,” went on Gilbert dryly.

“Yes, I know him quite well.”

“You were partners in business, so I understand.”

“Partners? Never! I am not a business man.”

“Do you mean to say that you did not have an interest in the concern which Ivan Snokoff ran?”

“Never. Why are you so curious to know?”

“Because Ivan Snokoff owes our company four thousand dollars, and he has run away,” answered Gilbert flatly. He felt that the man before him was not telling the truth. “I have been told upon pretty good authority that you were his partner.”

“It is not true.” Captain Barusky glared at Gilbert savagely. “This looks as if you had come here to make trouble for me. Let me warn you to beware. You cannot attack the honor of a Russian officer recklessly.”

Gilbert felt the truth of the last words and resolved to be cautious. He felt that he was among those who were more likely to prove enemies than friends.

“Then you mean to tell me that you had nothing to do with Ivan Snokoff or his company?” he asked, after a pause.

“I will not say that. I knew Snokoff fairly well, and when he came to me for a loan I lent him several hundred rubles, which, later on, he paid back.”

“And you had nothing to do with the company?”

“Nothing whatever.”

“If that is true, I must beg your pardon for troubling you. Can you tell me where Ivan Snokoff is?”

“I cannot, although I think he has gone to Liao-Yang or Mukden.”

There was a pause, which was broken by the officer who had brought Gilbert in.

“Do you think he is a spy?” he questioned abruptly.

“Hardly,” answered Captain Barusky, after some hesitation.

“Shall we let him go?”

“Yes. I will see that he does not linger around this vicinity.” The captain turned to the young American. “Come with me, and be thankful that you have escaped a night in the guard-house.”

Glad to get away at any cost, Gilbert followed Captain Barusky from the office and out of the fort grounds. The two walked a distance of several rods further, when the captain came to a halt.

“Now you are at liberty to go,” said he, in a low voice, so that the soldiers standing near might not hear. “But before you do so, allow me to give you a word of advice. Do not try to make trouble for me, for if you do, I shall certainly make Port Arthur too hot to hold you.” And with this warning he turned abruptly and hurried back to the fort.

For an instant Gilbert thought to answer back, but then he shut his lips tightly and remained silent. He was satisfied in his mind that Captain Barusky had not told him the truth concerning Ivan Snokoff and his dealings with that rascal. Yet how to get hold of the captain in a legal way was a question.

“I’ll have to go slow,” he thought. “If I don’t the captain will try to prove that I am a spy—and then I may be put in prison or shot. I wish this war scare was over. Then a fellow might get down to real business.”

The next day was a busy one for the young American. He had several bills to collect, and in some instances it was hard to get the money. There was also something wrong about a consignment of goods, and this matter had to be straightened out at the customhouse.

Gilbert had had an account at one of the banks, but now he resolved to close this and stow his cash about his person.

“There is no telling what is going to happen soon,” he thought. “If there is any fighting here, financial matters will be all upset. I’ll keep the money where I can lay my hands on it.”

There was another matter to worry Gilbert fully as much as did the money. He had had consigned to several firms in Manchuria goods to the value of sixteen thousand dollars. These goods were on board the three-masted schooner Columbia, which was now somewhere in Japanese waters, with part of her cargo consigned to firms in Nagasaki. What would happen to the schooner, if she should attempt to come into Port Arthur during the outbreak of a war, there was no telling.

“If she came here from Nagasaki, perhaps the Russians would capture or sink her,” he reasoned. “I wish I could get Captain Ponsberry to remain at Nagasaki until the atmosphere clears just a little.”

Gilbert knew Captain Ponsberry very well—a sailor of the old school, who had plowed the waters of the Pacific and the Far East for many years. The captain had been to Manchuria twice before and knew the surrounding waters very well.

“I must get word to him somehow,” said the young American to himself. But how to send word was a question, for no steamer was sailing and the mails were closed.

On returning to the hotel at which he was stopping Gilbert found several letters awaiting him. The majority were business communications, but one was of a private nature, and as soon as he beheld the hand-writing he tore it open in surprise.

“From my old chum, Ben Russell!” he cried, as he looked at the signature. “Where in the world can he be now? I thought he had gone home to stay there. Dated from Manila, too, and I thought he was in Buffalo or New York.”

The communication was a long one, filling sixteen closely written pages, and ran in part as follows:

“My Dear Chum Gilbert: I know you will be surprised to receive this, written from the above-named place, but the fact of it is, I changed my mind after writing to you that I was going home to visit my Uncle Job Dowling, and my brothers Larry and Walter, who left for home, as you know, two years ago.

“Some time ago I received several letters from home, including one each from Larry and Walter. Walter has gone into business and is doing remarkably well, so he tells me. But Larry did not want to stay on land, and after knocking around for the best part of a year he entered into communication with his old friend, Captain Ponsberry of the Columbia, and the upshot of the matter was that Larry is now on board of the Columbia, acting as second mate. He is certainly a sea-dog if ever there was one, and I begin to believe he will end his days on the ocean in spite of all we can do to make him settle down on land.

“Larry knew that the old Columbia was carrying a cargo for your company, and as soon as he could he communicated with me stating that the schooner was going to stop at Manila while on her way to Japan and Manchuria, and asking me to wait there until he could see me.

“The Columbia came in several days ago, and I can tell you I was mighty glad to see Larry, and to see old Captain Ponsberry, too. It was like a touch of old times, and I was sorry you and Walter were not there. Do you remember the good time we had at our last meeting? How we talked of all the hardships we had endured, and of the narrow escapes we had had? And how you told us of your adventures in China? I shall never forget that meeting, and of how we celebrated with a big dinner.

“As soon as I saw Larry I knew he had a card up his sleeve, and it came out pretty quick. He wanted me to take the trip on the Columbia. He had arranged it with Captain Ponsberry so that I could have half of his quarters (Larry’s, I mean), and he said it would give me a chance to try an ocean trip on a sailing vessel and also an opportunity to see you and see another part of the world.

“I didn’t think so much of the trip on a sailing vessel, but I did think it would be pleasant to sail with Larry and with our old friend the captain, and when he mentioned you that settled it, and I said yes almost before I knew it. And then you ought to have seen Larry hug me! ‘It’s just boss, Ben,’ said he. ‘We’ll have the best times ever!’ And he fairly danced a jig over the prospect. The captain was pleased, too, and said so.

“We sail early in the morning, and you know as much about when the Columbia will arrive as I do. I shall look for you either at Nagasaki or Port Arthur, and let me say frankly that I can hardly await the time when we shall be together again. When I arrive you must knock off for awhile and go sight-seeing and holiday-making with me.”

CHAPTER IV
TROUBLESOME DAYS IN PORT ARTHUR

Gilbert read Ben Russell’s letter with keen interest. The contents surprised him, just as his chum had thought they would, and he drew a long sigh of uncertainty as he laid the epistle down.

“Ben and Larry!” he murmured. “Yes, I’ll be more than glad to meet them both, but if the old Columbia gets into trouble with her cargo, what will become of them?” And then he fell to wondering if Ben was still wearing his uniform as a captain of the volunteers, or if he had donned civilian’s costume. The Russians would certainty not care for an American officer, in uniform, among them.

The following afternoon took the young American to an outlying quarter of the city. Here were located a number of humble houses occupied largely by Chinese and Japanese, who worked along the wharves and at the dry dock.

Gilbert wanted to find a Japanese stevedore named Jiru Siko, for he imagined that this individual knew something about Ivan Snokoff which was, perhaps, unknown to Nicholas Vanskynov. He knew that Siko lived at the end of the narrow and dirty street, with his wife and half a dozen children.

As he approached the spot he noticed that something unusual was taking place. A motley crowd of Japanese, Chinese, and Russians had collected near the house, and one Russian, who was armed with a stout club, was talking loudly and commandingly.

“Out of the house at once, you dirty dog of a Nippon!” came from the Russian. “Out of the house, I say. Your being there defiles the very walls.”

“I have paid the rent,” answered Jiru Siko, who was a small man, with a hand that had been hurt lately by having a box fall upon it. “Why cannot I remain?”

“Because the dirty sons of Nippon must leave this place,” shouted the Russian. “You are to go, and all the others are to go, too!”

“And what of my rent money? Nine rubles, in clean money——”

“The rubles shall go for repairs, after you have left the house. Now out with you.”

“But my wife is not well. And my children——”

“No time have I to listen to woeful tales,” stormed the Russian, who was merely a rent gatherer, and who had been ordered by his rich master to clear out all the Japanese in the street. “Take your wife and children where you will, only leave here, and at once.”

“It is unjust,” stammered Jiru Siko.

“Yes, it is unjust!” came in a shout from half a dozen present.

“Ha, so you defy me!” shouted the Russian, in a rage. “Shall I bring the soldiery here to make you prisoners?”

At the mention of the soldiery the crowd fell back and several Japanese and Chinese slunk out of sight. Evidently they had had a taste of Russian law before and wanted no more or it.

Scarcely knowing what to do, for his wife was sick and his youngest child was but a babe four months old, Jiru Siko fell back to the doorway of his house and blocked the entrance.

“Come out of that!” continued the Russian. And then, without warning, he aimed a blow with his club at the Japanese’s head.

But the blow did not land as intended, for leaping forward, Gilbert knocked the Russian rent gatherer’s arm aside.

“For shame,” said the young American. “What right have you to attack this man in this manner?”

Astonished to have his actions interfered with, the Russian wheeled around and confronted Gilbert. He had expected to behold another Japanese, or a Chinese, and when he saw an American he faltered a little.

“I want him to get out of this house,” he growled.

“Ah, Master Pennington!” cried Jiru Siko joyfully. “You come best time. You help poor Jiru Siko. No can move—no money move—no move wife sick—no move little baby—pay rent no move,” and he chattered away for fully a minute, doing his best to explain the situation, which was to the effect that he had paid rent for nearly a month longer and that his wife was sick and must not be thrown out on the street, along with the baby and the other children.

“If this man has paid his rent, I do not see how you can put him out,” said Gilbert sternly, to the Russian. “It is not lawful, and you know it.”

“The Japanese must go.”

“Then give him back his rent money.”

“I have it not.”

“Then go and get it. To take his money and then throw him out would be robbery, and you know it.”

A wordy war followed, in which half a dozen present participated. Supported by Gilbert, Jiru Siko refused to budge unless his rent money was returned, and at last the rent gatherer brought out his purse and counted out the amount. Then several others also demanded their money and it was given to them, although grudgingly. From one the rent gatherer asked who Gilbert was, and when he was told he turned to the young American.

“You have caused me great trouble,” said he savagely. “I shall take good care that you are reported. You are no friend to Russia.”

“You may do as you please,” answered Gilbert simply. Nevertheless, the rent gatherer’s words disturbed him not a little.

Jiru Siko was overjoyed to get back his money and at once made preparations to leave the house. From him Gilbert gathered that all of the Japanese were expected to leave Port Arthur without delay. That the Russians now expected war there could be no doubt.

The Japanese listened attentively to what the young American had to say about Ivan Snokoff. He could not tell what had become of the fellow, but he was as sure as Nicholas Vanskynov had been that Snokoff and Captain Barusky had been partners. He also said that Barusky was the black sheep of his family, and that the other rich members had cast him off.

“Jiru Siko no forget what Master Pennington do for ’im,” said the Japanese, on parting. “Pay back sometime, maybe.”

“If war comes, what will you do, Siko?”

“Fight—just the same fight in China when Master Pennington fight.”

“Were you in China at that time?” cried Gilbert, with interest.

“Yes—fight Tien-Tsin and Pekin—stay by railroad long time.”

“What about your family?”

“Take family to Japan first—all family Nagasaki—family take good care wife an’ babies—gran’fadder, gran’mudder, all Nagasaki.”

“Well, I hope this war cloud blows over and you don’t have to fight,” said Gilbert; and then the two parted.

Gilbert had expected to consult with Mr. Chase, but on the following morning he learned that the merchant had departed for Mukden, to be gone a week or longer. The city was now agitated more than ever, and nothing but war was talked about on every hand.

Rather tired out, the young American returned to his hotel at six in the evening for dinner. He was about to pass up to the room he had been occupying when a porter stopped him.

“You are requested to report at the office,” said the man respectfully.

Wondering what was coming next, Gilbert walked into the office where the proprietor sat, smoking a cigar. He was a fat and rather a jolly-looking Russian.

“You wish to see me?” inquired Gilbert.

“I do, Mr. Pennington,” was the stiff answer. The hotel proprietor cleared his throat. “It is exceedingly unpleasant for me to do so, but I have to inform you that your room has been taken by somebody else.”

“My room? Why, I expected to keep it for some time yet.”