olm.

They lifted the girl into the carriage and the men followed. A shriek
from the engine, a jerk of the cars, and the train moved on. Before the
rear carriage had cleared the platform a car rocked into the
station-yard, dashing through the frail wooden fencing on to the
platform itself.

"_Stoi! Stoi!_"

Boolba stood up in the big touring car, his arms outstretched, the white
bandage about his neck showing clearly in the car lights. Cherry Bim
rose to his knees and steadied himself. Once, twice, three times he
fired, and Boolba pitched over the side of the car dead.

"I had a feeling that we should meet again," said Cherry. "That's not a
bad gun."

CHAPTER THE LAST

"All my life," said Cherry Bim, fondling his Derby hat affectionately,
"I have been what is called by night-court reporters a human parricide."

He occupied a corner seat in the first-class compartment which had been
placed at the disposal of the party. To the Peace Commissioners in their
saloon the fugitives had no existence. Officially they were not on the
train, and the hot meal which came back to them from the Commissioner's
own kitchenette was officially sent to "extra train-men," and was
entered as such on the books of the chef.

The girl smiled. There was cause for happiness, for these dreary flats
which were passing the window were the flats of Poland.

"I have often thought, Mr. Bim, that you were a human angel!"

Cherry beamed.

"Why, that's what I was named after," he said. "Ain't you heard of the
Cherry Bims? My sister Sarah was named the same way--you've heard of
Sarah Bims?"

"Seraphims," laughed Malcolm; "true, it's near enough. But why this
dissertation on your moral character, Cherry?"

"I'm only remarking," said Cherry, "I wouldn't like you gu--fellers to
go away thinkin' that high-class female society hadn't brought about a
change in what I would describe, for want of a better word, as my
outlook."

"All our outlooks have been shaken up," said the girl, laying her hand
on Cherry's arm.

"I am a Grand Duchess of Russia and you are--you are----"

"Yes, I'm that," said Cherry, helping her out. "I'm one of nature's
extractors. But I'm through. I hate the idea of workin' and maybe I
won't have to, because I've got enough of the--well, any way, I've got
enough."

Malcolm slapped him on the knee.

"You've brought more from Russia than we have, Cherry," he said.

"But not the greatest prize." It was the silent