."

Although unquestionably a Russian, the newcomer appeared quite equal to
the task of making his wants known in Chinese, for after a moment's
conversation the two men made their way toward the back of the room.

Johnny had his second shock when he saw the garments the Russian began
to examine. They were no other than those which had twice before in the
last hour been examined by customers, the clothing for the Far North.
This was too much. Again, he barely checked a gasp. Was the entire
population of the city about to move to the polar regions? He would ask
Wo Cheng. In the meantime, Johnny prayed that the Russian might make his
choice speedily, since the time of departure of his train was
approaching.

The Russian made his selections, apparently more from a sense of taste
than with an eye to warmth and service. This final choice was a suit of
squirrel skin and boots of deer skin.

"Cumshaw?"

Into Wo Cheng's beady, squinting eyes, as he addressed this word to the
Russian, there came a look of malignant cunning which Johnny had not
seen there before. It sent chills racing up and down his spine. It
almost seemed to him that the Chinaman's hand was feeling for his belt,
where his knife was hidden.

For a moment the Russian turned his back to Wo Cheng, and so faced
Johnny. Behind his screen, the "Yank" could observe his actions without
himself being seen.

From an inner pocket the Russian extracted a long, thick envelope.
Unwrapping the cord at the top of this, he shook from it three shining
particles.

"Diamonds!" Johnny's eyes were dazzled with the lustre of the jewels.

The Russian, selecting one, dropped the others back into the envelope.

"Bet he's got a hundred more," was Johnny's mental comment. Then he
noticed a peculiarity of the envelope. There was a red circle in the
lower, left hand corner, as if a seal had been stamped there. He would
remember that envelope should he ever see it again.

But at this instant his attention was drawn to the men again. The
Russian had turned and handed the gem to Wo Cheng. Wo Cheng stepped to
the light and examined it.

"No need cumshaw my," he murmured.

The Russian bowed gravely, and turned toward the door.

It was then that the face of the Chinaman underwent a rapid change. The
look of craftiness, treachery, and greed swept over it again. This time
the yellow man's hand unmistakably reached for the knife.

Then he appeared to remember Johnny, for his hand dr