“Well, I shall not mind paying you a few rubles if you can really tell me something of value,” answered Gilbert.
“Then come to some place where it is warm and I will tell you all I know,” returned Nicholas Vanskynov.
CHAPTER II
GILBERT LEARNS SOMETHING
The winter had been long and severe in Manchuria, and even now, early in February, it was biting cold and with a touch of snow in the air at Port Arthur.
Close at hand was a shop where refreshments of various kinds could be had and to this place Gilbert led the way making certain that the Russian followed. He saw at a glance that Nicholas Vanskynov was a fellow of small caliber and could readily be handled if given a little money. Sitting down to a table he ordered a cup of coffee and some fancy cakes for himself and asked the other what he would have.
“Since you are so kind, I will take a glass of quass,” was the answer, quass being a sour beer much used by Russians.
“Now, what can you tell me of value?” asked the young American, after the refreshments had been brought and Vanskynov had partaken of the liquor with apparent satisfaction.
“Let us first speak of the reward, sire.”
“How much do you want?” demanded Gilbert sharply. “Remember, I can hand you over to the police, if I desire.”
“The police!” At the threat the young Russian grew pale, for the police department is a terror to all who live under Russian law, its findings being generally final and absolute. “How so?”