.
But Hanada had said "No." He had given no reason; had merely left things
that way. Hanada had been like that always; he never explained. Perhaps
he did have some other important engagement; then why could he not tell
Johnny of it? Why all this constant enshrouding of affairs in mystery?
What did he, Johnny, know about the whole business anyway? Not a thing.
He was only assured by the Jap that it was his duty to stick on the
trail of the Russian until it led somewhere in particular. He was not,
in any circumstances, to have him arrested or killed without first
consulting Hanada.

"What rot!"

Johnny got up and paced the floor. Then, suddenly realizing that there
was no longer cause for secrecy as to his whereabouts, he threw on the
light and swung a punching bag down from the wall.

This ancient bit of leather, which had hung unused for many months, gave
forth a volley of dust at first. But soon it was sending resounding
thwacks echoing down the hall from Johnny's right and left punch.

Johnny even smiled as he sat down after a fifteen minutes round with
this old friend. He was greatly pleased at one thing; his left arm was
now quite as good as his right.

As he sat there, still smiling, his eyes fell on that note which had
been thrust under his door. A strange, wild impulse seized him.

"So they know where I stay," he muttered. "I'll see how near I can come
to finding out where they are hiding."

Taking the envelope containing the diamonds from his pocket, he crowded
it down into the depths of his clothing; then, snapping off the light,
he went out.

Hastening down the street and across the bridge, he was soon threading
deserted streets and dark alleys. In time he came out upon Bird place,
a half street, ending in a wall. The passage was narrow, hardly more
than an alley.

The night was exceptionally dark and the place cheerless--just the
setting for a crime. Lights behind drawn shutters were few. Only the
very wretched or very wicked haunted such habitations.

Hugging the wall, Johnny sidled along toward 316. He knew the spot
exactly, for though Johnny had never been of the underworld, he had
spent many a restless night prowling about in all parts of the city.
Suddenly he flattened out in a doorway and stood motionless, breathing
quietly.

Had he heard the faint pat-pat of footsteps? Had he caught the dark blue
of a shadow on yonder wall? For a full three minutes he stood there;
then hearing, seeing no