Her lips were at the speaking tube in an instant. "Madison Street
police station, and hurry!" she ordered. "An extra five for speed." The
taxi whirled around a corner on two wheels; it shot by a policeman;
dodged up an alley, and out on the other side, then stopped with a jolt
that came near sending Mazie through the glass.

"Here you are." She thrust a bill in the driver's hand, then raced up
the steps and into the forbidding police station.

A sergeant looked up from the desk as she entered.

"Johnny Thompson," she said excitedly. "I want to see Johnny Thompson!"

"I'd like to myself, miss," he said smiling. "There never was a
featherweight like him. But he's dead."

"Dead?" Mazie caught at her throat.

"Sure. Didn't you read about it? Long time ago. Died in Russia."

"Oh!" Mazie sank limply into a chair. "Then you haven't heard? He isn't
arrested? He isn't here?"

"Arrested?" The sergeant's face took on an amused and puzzled look;
then he smiled again. "Oh, yes, there was something on the records
tonight saying he and a Jap was wanted for conspiracy. But take it from
me, lady, that's all pure bunk; some crook posing as Johnny Thompson,
more than likely. I tell you, there never was a more loyal chap than
this same Johnny; one of the first to enlist."