ishment.

"Johnny!" There was a sob in her voice. Then catching herself, she
glanced down at her wrinkled and blood-bespattered dress.

"Johnny," she implored, "for goodness' sake get me out of this horrid
place so I can change these clothes."

"There's decent enough dresses at the police station," suggested a
smiling officer.

"Call the wagon," said Johnny.

Soon they were rattling away toward the station, Mazie, Cio-Cio-San, and
Johnny.

"Johnny," Mazie whispered, "you didn't desert, did you?"

"Did you think that?" Johnny groaned in mock agony.

"No, honest I didn't, but what--what did you do?"

"Just got tired of waiting for Uncle Sam to bring me home from Russia,
so I walked, that's all. Here's my discharge papers, all right. And
here's my transportation."

With a smile Johnny handed her the two crumpled papers.

"You see," he exclaimed, "a Russian brigand got me in the left arm when
I was guarding the Trans-Siberian Railroad. They sent me to the
hospital, then gave me my discharge. Said I'd be no more good as a
soldier. And after waiting for a boat that never seemed to come I hit
out for the north. Nothing crooked about that at all, but I had to be a
bit sly about it anyway, for Uncle Sam don't like to have you take
chances even if you are discharged."

"Oh! Johnny, that's grand!" murmured Mazie.

The rest of the journey was accomplished in silence. Now and again Mazie
gave Johnny's arm a little squeeze, as if to make sure he was still
there.

"Gee, kid," Johnny exclaimed as Mazie reappeared, after a half hour in
the matron's room. "You sure do look swell."

She was dressed in the plain cotton dress furnished by the city to
destitute prisoners. But the dress was as spotlessly clean as was
Mazie's faultless complexion.

"Gee, Mazie!" Johnny went on, "I've seen you in a lot of glad rags but
this tops them all. Looks like you'd just come from your own
kitchenette."

Mazie bit her lip to hide her confusion. Then blushing, she said:

"Johnny, I'm hungry. When do we eat?"

"I know a nice place right round the corner. C'mon. Where's
Cio-Cio-San?"

"Gone to the Emergency hospital."

"Hanada," Johnny exclaimed. "I must find out about him."

"Just came from there myself," said the police sergeant, a kindly light
in his eyes. "I'm sorry to tell you, but your friend's checked in."

"Dead?"

"Dead," answered the officer, "but he lived long enough to know that the
band of world outlaws was captu