Triple Spies | Page 3

No wanchee uniform. Wanchee clothes, fur, fur, plenty
warm, you savvy? Go north, north, cold, savvy?"
"Ow!" exclaimed the Chinaman, scratching his head.
"Wo Cheng!" said Johnny solemnly, "long time my see you. Allatime,
my see you. Not speak American Major; not speak Japanese police."
Wo Cheng shivered.
"Now," said Johnny, "my come buy."
"Ow!" grunted Wo Cheng, ducking from sight and reappearing quickly
with a great coat of real seal, trimmed with sea otter, a trifle which had
cost some noble of other days a king's ransom.

"No wanchee," Johnny shook his head.
"Ow!" Wo Cheng shook his head incredulously. This was his rarest
offering. "You no got cumshaw, money?" he grinned. "All wite, my
say."
"No wanchee my," Johnny repeated.
The Chinaman took the garment away, and returned with a similar one,
less pretentious. This, too, was waved aside.
By this time Johnny had become impatient. Time was passing. A
special train was to go north at four o'clock. It was going for reindeer
meat, rations for the regiment that was Johnny's, or, at least, had been
Johnny's. He could catch a ride on that train. A five hundred mile lift on
a three thousand mile jaunt was not to be missed just because this
Chink was something of a blockhead.
Pushing the proprietor gently to one side, Johnny made his way toward
the back of the room. Scrutinizing the hangers as he went, and giving
them an occasional fling here and there, as some garment caught his
eye, he came presently upon a solid square yard of fur. With a grunt of
satisfaction, he dragged one of the garments from its place and held it
before the flickering yellow taper.
The thing was shaped like a middy-blouse, only a little longer and it
had a hood attached. It was made of the gray squirrel skins of Siberia,
and was trimmed with wolf's skin. As Johnny held it against his body,
it reached to his knees. It was, in fact, a parka, such as is worn by the
Eskimos of Alaska and the Chukches, aborigines of North Siberia.
One by one, Johnny dragged similar garments from their hangers.
Coming at last upon one made of the brown summer skins of reindeer,
and trimmed with wolverine, he seemed satisfied, for, tossing the
others into a pile, he had drawn off his blouse and was about to throw
the parka over his head, when something fell with a jangling rattle to
the floor.

"O-o-ee!" grunted the Chinaman, as he stared at the thing. It was the
knife which had belonged to the Russian of the broad shoulders and
sharp chin. As Johnny's eyes fell upon it now, he realized that it was an
altogether unusual weapon. The blade was of blue steel, and from its
ring it appeared to be exceptionally well tempered. The handle was of
strangely carved ivory.
Quickly thrusting the knife beneath his belt, Johnny again took up the
parka. This time, as he drew the garment down over his head, he
appeared to experience considerable difficulty in getting his left arm
into the sleeve. This task accomplished, he stretched himself this way
and that. He smoothed down the fur thoughtfully, pulled the hood about
his ears, and back again, twisted himself about to test the fit, then, with
a sigh of content, turned to examine a pile of fur trousers.
At that instant there came a low rap at the door--three raps, to be
accurate--then a muffled thud.
Johnny started. Someone wanted to enter. He was not exactly in a
condition to be seen, especially if the person should prove to be an
American officer. His fur parka, topping those khaki trousers and
puttees of his, would seem at least to tell a tale, and might complicate
matters considerably. Quickly seizing his blouse, he crowded his way
far back into the depths of a furry mass of long coats.
"Wo Cheng!" he whispered, "my wanchee you keep mouth shut.
Allatime shut!"
"O-o-ee," grunted the Chinaman.
The next moment he had opened the door a crack.
The squint eyes of the Chinaman surveyed the person without for a
long time, so long, in fact, that Johnny began to wonder what sort of
person the newcomer could be. Wo Cheng was keen of wit. To many
he refused entrance. But he was also a keen trader. All manner of men
and women came to him; some for a permanent change of costume,
some for a night's exchange only. Peasants, grown suddenly and

strangely rich, bearing passports and tickets for other lands, came to
buy the cast-off finery of the one time nobility. Russian, Japanese,
American soldiers and officers came to Wo Cheng for a change, most
of them for a single twelve hours, that they might revel in places
forbidden to