“I will do that readily, sire. And you, you will help me,” pleaded the clerk. He was lean, hungry, hollow-eyed, and his clothing was in tatters.
“Yes, I’ll help you,” answered the young captain.
In a minute more they were on the way to the Russian section of the town, Ben going along. They had to pass a number of burnt buildings, and then came to a side street which the fire had not touched, but which had suffered much from Japanese shells and solid shots.
“What has Ivan Snokoff been doing here?” asked Gilbert, as they walked along.
“He has been supplying the Russian soldiers with things to eat and to drink at high prices. He forced them to buy from him through his confederate, Captain Barusky.”
“Where is the captain?”
“He has retreated with his command in the direction of Mukden.”
“You are sure Snokoff did not go with him?”
“Yes, I am sure. But he may have followed since.”
They were now coming to a well-built house at the end of the street. The front door was open, but as they approached it was suddenly slammed shut, and bolted from the inside.