And it was here, of all places, that they experienced the first thrill
of the night. A heavy step sounded on the pavement around the corner.
The next instant a man appeared walking toward them. His face was
obscured by shadows, but there was no mistaking that stride.

"That's our man," whispered Johnny.

"The Russian?" questioned Hanada in equally guarded tones.

There was not time for another word, for the man, having quickened his
pace was abreast of them, past them and gone.

"I don't know. Couldn't see his face," whispered the Jap.

"Quick!" urged Johnny; "there's a short cut, an alley. We can meet him
again under the arc light."

Down a dark alley they dashed. Crashing into a broken chicken crate,
then sprinting through an open court, they came out on another alley,
and then onto a street.

They had raced madly, but now as they came up short, panting, they saw
no one. The man had disappeared.

Suddenly they heard steps on the cross street.

"Turned the corner," panted Johnny. "C'mon!"

Again they dashed ahead, slowing only as they reached the other street.