Johnny studied the old sergeant through narrowing eyelids. He had given
him a ten spot before the train rattled from the yards. Was that enough?
Would any sum be enough? Johnny shivered a little. The man was an old
regular, a veteran of many battles not given in histories. Was he one
of those who took this motto: "Anything's all right that you can get
away with?" Johnny wondered. It might be, just might be, that Johnny
would go back on this same train to Vladivostok; and that, Johnny had no
desire to do.

The sergeant's eyes closed for a wink of sleep. Johnny looked furtively
about the car. The three other occupants were asleep. He drew a fat roll
of American bills from his pocket. From the very center he extracted a
well worn one dollar bill. Having replaced the roll, he smoothed out the
"one spot" and examined it closely. Across the face of it was a purple
stamp. In the circle of this stamp were the words, "Wales, Alaska." A
smile spread over Johnny's shrewd, young face.

"Yes sir, there you are, li'l ol' one-case note," he whispered. "You
come all the way from God's country, from Alaska to Vladivostok, all by
yourself. I don't know how many times you changed hands before you got
here, but here you are, and it took you only four months to come. Stay
with me, little old bit of Uncle Sam's treasure, and I'll take you
home; straight back to God's country."

He folded the bill carefully and stowed it in an inner pocket, next to
his heart.

If the missionary postmistress at Cape Prince of Wales, on Behring
Strait, had realized what homesick feelings she was going to stir up in