The train began to move. With a shrill shriek from the engine, and the
banging of doors, it glided out of the station. Soon its tail lights
were swinging out of sight. But the Russian and the American boy
remained, while the train, with its load of free and cheerful
passengers, went on toward Berlin.

"You wouldn't let me take the train. Well, what are you going to do with
me now?" asked the boy.

His tone was as defiant as his look and if he was afraid, he didn't show
it. He wasn't afraid, as a matter of fact. He was angry.

The Russian considered him for a moment, saying not a word. Then he
called in a low, hushed tone, and three or four policemen came running
up.

"You see this boy?" he asked.

"Yes, excellency."

"It has pleased His Majesty the Czar, acting through the administration
of the police of St. Petersburg, to expel him from his dominions. He is
honored by my personal attention. I in person am executing the order of
His Majesty. I shall now conduct him to the exact border line and see to
it that he is placed on German soil. His name is Frederick Waring. On no
pretext is he to be allowed to return to Russian soil. Should he succeed
in doing so, he is to be arrested, denied the privilege of communication
with any friend, or with the consul or ambassador of any foreign nation,
and delivered to me in Petersburg. You will receive this order in due