Rescuing the Czar | Page 6

from a Western city concerning a wounded soldier
who had recently returned to an American Army hospital. The
particular name being given, it was easy enough for Fox's
correspondent to meet the soldier on some errand of mercy and to
obtain the revelations that are hereinafter made.
The soldier was a young commissioned officer who was having an
artificial jaw supplied to replace the one shot off in a Bolshevik
encounter. He had greatly recovered when the call was made and an
opening naturally presented for the soldier to recount the part he played
in the adventure of his country in the Revolutionary drama of that hour.
"I'm as certain as I'm living," the wounded soldier said, "that a
Bolshevik is as 'nutty' as a rabbit. The fellow I had by the neck before
my lights went out was putting up a holler, in German, and claiming to
be a personal friend of some personal friend of the missing Czar.
Before he finally passed in his chips he gave me a bundle of paper
diaries he had stolen down in China, and he asked me to return them to
their rightful owner so that he might die without a sin upon his

conscience. Honestly, that chap was dead in earnest in this matter of his
conscience. I took the stuff, of course; but I never thought about them
until the other day. Since then they seem to haunt me. I wonder if you'd
mind looking them over if the nurse'd get them out?"
"With pleasure," was the reply.
The nurse brought in an old leather bag, from which the Captain
extracted two begrimed and blood-smeared rolls written in a very small
but strong and vigorous hand.
While looking over the documents in a casual way a loose leaf fell to
the floor. Upon picking it up, there was found to be written on one side
in bold underscored letters:
"Make no belief in the evidence that was manufactured to satisfy some
bloodthirsty men in Russia. What I have seen with my own eyes I know
is true. For the sake of Russia I stoled these papers from the man come
from the West who was with them all the way from 'Yekaterinburg to
Chunking. What he write is true.
"DONETSKY"
"That's his name," the Captain said, "and if you don't find that he was
as crazy as a bedbug I'll say I'm General Graves."
"This diary seems to be written in very good English."
"Yes," said the Captain, "all those fellows keep one. They're like the
Germans--give 'em a pencil and a piece of paper and they'll scribble all
day."
"Did he say who wrote this?"
"No; he cashed in, as I told you; but you'll see the name of Fox here
and there through the diary that's written in the small hand."
"_Fox_--who was 'Fox'?"

"Search me! Some Johnny, I suppose."
"May I take these with me?"
"Sure thing! I'll make you a present of 'em. All I ask is, if you find out
whether that fellow 'Fox' grabs the peacherino from the Métropole or
the one called 'Maria' you'll send me an invitation."
The bargain was struck. Then the question was asked: "Any idea who
wrote this diary--the one written in a quick running hand?'
"Sounds like some fellow with a grouch against Kerensky and Lvov. I
know enough Russian to make out that much--"
"Evidently one of the Revolutionary officials?"
"Seems so," the Captain said. "You'll notice what he has to say about
the mixup with the Russian Royal family at Tobolsk and Tumen.
There's a lot of our fellows who don't take any stock in that
assassination business at 'Katerinburg."
"I began to read: 'I had walked from Euston Station to Madame
Tussaud's, when the messenger jumped from his motorcycle and rushed
up to me--' Your diarist starts out in London, I see."
"Yes, he is some globe trotter--"
"'"Go to Birdcage and walk slowly back to Queen Victoria Memorial.
As you pass Buckingham, observe the heavily veiled lady wearing
white lace wristlets who will follow on behind. Let her overtake you. If
she utters the correct phrase, go with her at once to Admiralty Arch
and follow the Life Guard to the War Office. Meet number ... there;
receive a small orange-colored packet, wear the shirt he gives you, and
cross the Channel at once"'--I see! From Buckingham Palace to the War
Office; sounds interesting."
"It is; that fellow is all there!" complimented the Captain.
"'The meeting at the _Huis ten-Bosch_ points to Wilhelmstrasse.

Nothing can be done here. They suspect Downing Street.'--Ah, at The
Hague, and at the _ten-Bosch_ too, where the Czar and Andrew
Carnegie held their first Peace Conference in 1899; this looks
significant!"
"Keep going," said the Captain; "that fellow's got 'The Man in