Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1904-10-21
By Order of the Gar
A Story of Russian Power
By Marcus EASTLAKE
oz~
A Story of Russian Power
3 MA r Gus Z

"Ah, just in time, Anton Antoneivitch!
Not quite smart enough, my brave. Ha,
hap as he drags me to the ground.
And while I am struggling, dazed and
bewildered, to my feet he has rushed
to the door, unlocked it, and by the dim
light that Eliminates the corridor I see
him seize some one by the arm, jerk that
some one into the cell and lock the door
again.
Gust in time! Just In time to help
me-" hear him repeat, with a strange,
wild, exultation in his voice.
Then there is a short, fierce struggle
in the dark. The bed creaks under
falling body. . " 4 cry OF help"
that is instantly smothered, followed by
gasps and groans.
What means 1t? Who Is the vanquish-
ed? Is it the Cossack who lies groaning
on the bed or that other one? In vain
my eager eyes try to pierce the dark
ness. 1t is as black as pitch. The Cos
sacks voice treasures me at length.
IT have him!' he pants.
Another groan and a gurgling sound.
"You were going to spoil our little
game-what?" says the Cossack with
cutting irony; and there is an unpleasant
thud as head being knocked against
wall. Where are you, my brother!
Come here quickw I feel my way to-
ward the voice, and my hand comes in
contact with the arm Of the Cossack.
I'm my trousers pocket you will lind
match box. Strike a light" he die
tates II must see what I am doing
here"
I comply, and see CHASTITY sight. On
his back on the bed, his body convulsed,
his face purple and swollen, his tongue
protruding from his mouth, is the war
der. The Cossack's fingers are tightly
twisted in the collar Of the PROSTATE
mans uniform, and the Cossack's knee
is on his chest. He is to all appear
ances lifeless.
He VIII tell no tales" observes the
Cossack And the smile with which he
regards his senseless foe is truly dia-
bolic. yet he might come round. Shall
I make sure?" He draws a small stiletto
from the bosom Of his coat and suspends
it in mid-air.
l stay his hand
'Slay him not" say. eff he be really
dead, God speed his soul. If the life is
still in him, leave him the chance of it.
His death will not benefit u.s."
"Humph; less trouble to have given
him his quietus," he murmurs, hiding
away his knife again. "We cannot leave
him thus. We must tie his hands and
gag him, or he might set the dogs on us
sooner than we expect"
While he talks he loses no time. He
produces some strong cord from his peck
ct and binds the mans wrists together
behind his back. After which he pro-
ceeds to gag his gaping mouth with
handkerchief. cit is cleverly DONE" he
chuckles. * was quick. Yes. In an in
slant l had him! Once he had got away
to give the alarm, though we might still
have escaped by the window, would
not have given the snuff Of a candle for
our chances of landing at the other side
save into the arms Of the gendarmes.
1t was even the best thing that could
have happened that he should have come;
for now, / reckon, they will not be likely
to find out that the bird has flown be-
fore 5 in the morning, and by then they
will find it a difficult task to get near
enough to him to strew salt on his tail"
While speaking his quick, nervous fin
gers are busy tying the knot at the
back Of his victims head.
"There now, thou art fixed up-war-
ranted not to go OFF, he continues apos-
trophizing the insensible man. "Adieu,
my friend, and a good recovery! And
now out with the light and let us start.
Yerack will think that all is lost.
In less than five minutes I am cleav-
ing the cold, black water, striking out
blindly for the opposite shore In my
rear comes the Cossack, gasping and
spluttering.
The river is not wide, and I already
feel the bank. Cropping for a hold, my
hand comes in contact with a branch,
by which I pull myself up. The Cos
sack is close on my heels.
Catch hold Of this branchv' I whis-
per, bending it down to where hear him
gasping.
So hastily is it snatched from me that
I almost lost my balance. l recover my
self to find a dark object rising at my
feet.
Onward" he pants, taking the lead.
A little more scrambling and we are
on the road. The Cossack hurries me
along a few PAGES. Then a form steps
out from the trees and silently confronts
us. 1t is Yerack!