sand. The three
hundred thousand, under cable orders from Yokohama, was transferred to
our branch in San Francisco. This was withdrawn about two weeks ago. How
does that strike you?"

"All in a heap," confessed Cutty. "When was this fund established with
you?"

"Shortly before Kerensky's government blew up. The funds were in our
London bank. There was, of course, a lot of red tape, excessive
charges in exchange, and all that. Anyhow, about eight hundred thousand
arrived."

"What brought him to America? Why didn't he go to England? That would
have been the safest haven."

"I can explain that. He intends to become an American citizen. Some time
ago he became the owner of a fine cattle ranch in Montana."

"Well, I'll be tinker-dammed, too!" exploded Cutty.

"A young man with these ideas in his head ought eventually to become a
first-rate citizen. What do you say?"

"I am considerably relieved. His forbears, the blood--"

"His mother was a healthy Italian peasant--a famous singer in her time.
His fortune, I take it, was his inheritance from her. She made a fortune
singing in the capitals of Europe and speculating from time to time.
She sent the boy, at the age of ten, to England. Afraid of the home
influence. He remained there, under the name of Hawksley, for something
like fourteen years, under the guardianship of this fellow Gregory. Of
Gregory I know positively nothing. The young fellow is, to all purposes,
methods of living, points of view, an Englishman. Rathbone, who was
educated at Oxford, met him there and they shared quarters. But it was
only in recent years that he learned the identity of his friend. In 1914
the young fellow returned to Russia. Military obligations. That's all I
know. Mighty interesting, though."

"I am much obliged to you. The white elephant becomes a normal drab
pachyderm," said Cutty.

"Still something of an elephant on your hands. I see. Bring him here if
you wish."

"And sic the Bolshevik at your door."

"That's so. You spoke of his having been beaten and robbed. Bolshevik?"

"Yes. An old line of reasoning first put into effect by Oliver Cromwell.
The axe."

"The poor devil!"

"Fact. I'm sorry for him, but I wish he would blow away conveniently."

"Rathbone says he's handsome, gay, but decent, considering. Humanity is
being knocked about some. The hour has come for our lawyers to go back
to their offices. Politics must step aside for business. We ought
to hang up signs i