tions, if any, Li Chung, Hertcho.'"
"'Agony' column advertisements," said Greville, "make extraordinary reading sometimes, if one doesn’t possess the key to them; but what, may I ask, has this to do with your coming out?"
"Everything." replied Cyril "But for that advertisement I should very much more likely have gone to Canada."
"Are you mad, Guest?"
"Not yet," replied Cyril imperturbably. "I may be later on if, after taking all this trouble and going to so much expense, the whole affair turns out a hoax. Such a contingency is unlikely, however, for I have ascertained that the order for the advertisement reached New York in a round-about way from Mongolia."
"Then you know the meaning of the advertisement?" ejaculated Greville, brightening.
"Up to a point, yes."
"You're an extraordinary chap, Guest. Explain yourself, for goodness' sake. You've roused my curiosity no end."
"What I know, replied Cyril, "is, after all, not very much to the purpose. At Helmscote there existed a sort of secret society to which most of the students belonged, each member being required on oath to go to the rescue or otherwise assist any of the fraternity who might get into trouble of any kind."
"Had you a secret code then?" ejaculated Greville. "A cipher, or anything of that sort?"
"No."
"Then," said Greville, "how was the idea to be worked out?"
"Very simply. All one had to do was to advertise in the Times, using the two words, 'I declare,' and giving an address."
"Tell me the wording again."
"'I declare,'" repeated Cyril, "'Tobolensk—Mongolia'—"
"Haven't you any idea of the identity of the advertiser?"
"Not the least in the world."
"Wasn't there something else?"
"Yes, 'Communications (if any), Li Chung, Hertcho.'"
"Happen to have a Chinese member of your community at any time?"
"Not to my knowledge; but then, you see, the Helmscote Freemasonry had been in existence generations before my time. There is, therefore, no telling who the man may be."
"The latter part of the advertisement may be only a blind."
"That's precisely what struck me on first reading it," said Cyril.
"And so." continued Greville, "you consider the thoughtless oath of a schoolboy sufficiently binding on you to undertake a long and hazardous journey in obedience to the vow?"
"Not exactly so," replied Cyril. "Inclination went a very long way in my case. Mongolia or Canada were one to me. I meant traveling and seeing things, you understand."
"Then," ejaculated Greville, "that was your inducement in looking out for a man who knew the country you wanted to explore and happened to be travelling thither?"
"Yes, that's so. What, by the way, was your impression at our first interview?"
"Oh, I imagined you were just an adventure-struck youth yearning for a change and determined upon a novel experience. You will remember I tried to dissuade you from going.’
"But supposing I had let on what I was after—what then?"
"Impossible to say," replied Greville, "the adventure sounds enticing enough as told on the Trans-Siberian Railway, but there's no telling how it would have struck me in New York."
"It is no end of a lark, isn't it, traversing two continents on such an errand?"
"It may turn out a very expensive game, Guest, though I admit the attraction."
"What are your apprehensions?"
"As indefinite as your mission. You ought to get through all right, and I'll assist you all I can You have one great advantage in not knowing the advertiser, nor, let us suppose, he you. Supposing, for instance, on arrival you discover the whole thing to be a trick, or, at worst a plot—you would naturally prefer to be out of it."
"Yes, that's so," said Cyril with as much eagerness as he could command, adding heartily, "I'm glad you'll stick by me."
Greville's comments had set Cyril thinking, and the latter part of this remark was intensely sincere.
There was one thing he had omitted to tell Greville, that being the formula understood by the brotherhood as indicating that someone was answering the summons.
The formula itself was unimportant, what was more to the point being the fact of Cyril having despatched a cablegram just before leaving New York. The message reading "I follow suit,—Guest, New York.—Via Krasnoiarsk," would have the effect of nullifying Greville's suggestion, and for the remainder of the journey Cyril kept wondering what his companion would think of his indiscretion, and whether it would make any difference.
In view of Greville's remarks, the thought of that cable message speeding to its destination heralding his approach made Cyril particularly uneasy in his mind.
CHAPTER II
Forty-eight hours after the travelers had left the railroad a lively scene was enacted outside a certain hotel in Krasnoiarsk.
The question at issue was the purchase of a sledge. Greville figuring as buyer, while between him and the owner—a sheep-skin clad moujik (Russian peasant)—a battle royal waged. The driving of the bargain amused Greville, who played his man as an angler will a cunning fish who strives to break his line; but the long-drawn negotiations exasperated Cyril, who was in a desperate hurry to take the road.
"Why can't you pay him what he asks and have done with it?" he cried, unable any longer to control his impatience.
The moujik nervously glanced toward the speaker, for there was a savage ring in the young American's voice, and immediately poured forth in voluble Russian a score of reasons why he could not abate his price one kopeck.
To this appeal Cyril, being unacquainted
