s he sat there in
silent reflection. Then rising, he extinguished the light, threw up the
sash, unhooked some outer iron shutters, sent them jangling against the
brick wall, and drawing his chair to the window, stared reflectively
down into the sullen, murky waters of the river. At last he was back in
Chicago!

The time had been when the fact that Johnny Thompson occupied this room
was no secret to anyone who really wanted to know. Johnny had roomed
here when he first came to Chicago as a boy, working for six dollars a
week. When, in the years that followed, it had been discovered that
Johnny was quick as a bobcat and packed a wallop; when Johnny began
making easy money, and plenty of it, he had stuck to the old room that
overlooked the river. When he had heard his country's call to go to war,
he had paid three years' rent on the room and had locked the door. If he
never came back, all good and well. If he did return, the old room would
be waiting for him, the room and the river. Now here he was once more.

The river! The stream had always held a great fascination for him.
Johnny had seen other rivers but to him none of them quite came up to
the old Chicago. In its silent, sullen depths lay power and mystery.
The Charles River of Boston Johnny had seen, and called it a place of
play for college boys. The Seine of Paris was a thing of beauty, not of
power. The Spokane was a noisy blusterer. But the old Chicago was a grim
and silent toiler. It bore on its waters great scows, lake boats,
snorting, smoking tugs, screaming fire boats and police boats. Then,
too, it was a river of mysteries. Down into its murky depths no eye
could peer to discover the hidden and mysterious burdens which it
carried away toward the Father of Waters.

Yes, give Johnny the room by the old Chicago! It was dusty and grim; but
tomorrow he would clean it thoroughly. Just now he wished merely to sit
here and think for an hour.

The time had been when Johnny had not cared who saw him enter this
haven; but to-day things were different. Since he had got into this
affair with the Russian and his band he had had a feeling that he was
being constantly watched.

There was little wonder at this, for did he not carry on his person
forty thousand dollars' worth of rare gems? And did they not belong to
someone else?

"To whom?" Johnny said the words aloud as he thought of it.

His mind turned to his Japanese comrades, the girl and the man. He had
told n