d not
find a mouthful.

"I might have known there would be no food squandered," he told himself.
"Didn't they say at the prison that they were slaughtering the horses
just for the meat, and that butter and eggs were worth their weight in
gold? I'll be lucky to get bread and soup--especially as I haven't a
dollar with which to pay for a meal."

Ben was about to leave the warehouse when he saw a file of Russian
soldiers approaching. With the soldiers were two officers, and as they
came closer he recognized one as Captain Barusky.

"It was a bad thing to let that American escape," said the captain to
the other officer. "If you catch sight of him, shoot him on the spot."

"Which we shall do with pleasure," was the ready answer; and then
officers and soldiers passed on.

"I've got to keep out of sight, that's all there is to that," reasoned
Ben, grimly. "If they catch me again it's all up with me. I wonder if it
would be possible to get out of Port Arthur? Gilbert got out, but things
weren't half so closely guarded as they are now."

Ben waited until nightfall before leaving the warehouse. Then, keeping a
constant lookout for Russian soldiers, he sneaked along one street after
another. Where to go he did not know, but he realized that he must have
something to eat or he would starve.

Presently he came to a small garden in the center of which was a
neat-looking residence. On the doorplate was the name Nathan Chase.

"Nathan Chase!" Ben cried, half aloud. "I wonder if that can be the
gentleman Gilbert knew? If it is perhaps he will aid me."

At first the young captain thought to ring the doorbell, but fearful of
meeting the wrong person he resolved to investigate in a more private
manner. The side windows of the residence were curtained, but the
curtains were only partly down. Going to one of the windows he peered
inside.

In a neatly furnished sitting room sat a young lady and a Russian
soldier. They were arguing about something--money matters as far as Ben
could make out. The young lady did not wish to give the soldier the
money and he insisted upon having it. While Ben gazed at the scene, the
Russian soldier leaped up, grasped the young lady by the shoulders and
shook her roughly.

"Don't!" screamed the young lady, in English. "Let me go!"

"I want the money!" answered the soldier, in his native tongue. He was a
Cossack and of brutal features.

The young lady was pretty and she was helpless, and this combin