Johnny opened the envelope and shook it gently. Three stones fell into
his hand. They were of purest blue white, perfect stones and perfectly
cut. A glance at the envelope showed him that it was divided into four
narrow compartments and that each compartment was filled with diamonds
wrapped in tissue paper. Only these three were unwrapped.

Running his fingers down the outside of the compartments, he counted the
jewels.

"One hundred and four," he breathed. "A king's ransom. Forty or fifty
thousand dollars worth, anyway. Whew!"

Then he stared and his hand shook. His eye had fallen upon the stamp of
the seal in the corner of the envelope. He knew that secret mark all too
well; had learned it from Wo Cheng. It was the stamp of the biggest and
worst society of Radicals in all the world.

"So!" Johnny whispered to himself. "So, Mr. Russian, you are a Radical,
a red, a Nihilist, a communist, an anything-but-society-as-it-is guy.
You want the world to cough up its dough and own nothing, and yet here
you are carrying round the price of a farm in your vest pocket." He
chuckled. "Some reformer, I'd say!"

But his next thought sobered him. What was he to do with all that
wealth? One of those stones would make Mazie happy for a lifetime. But
it wasn't his. He had no right to it. He could not do a thing he'd be
ashamed to tell Mazie and his old boss about.

But, if they didn't belong to him, perhaps the diamonds didn't belong to
the Russian either. At any rate, the latter's disloyalty to his nation