“Ybargenosk!”
“What for you go to America?”
“To tell my people the truth about the Bolsheviki,” Nathan answered. Not to humor these men meant swift and unspeakable death. “The Americanski know only lies about the Bolsheviki,” he stumbled onward, hoping against hope to make friends. “I go to America to stop the lies. It will help your cause much.”
All present seemed to be impressed when this was interpreted. A general discussion ensued, principally with hands.
“We wish to know how much Czecho-slovak at Ybargenosk,” the Cossack declared, interpreting the Commandant’s next question.
There were three hundred, a pitiful little garrison, at Ybargenosk.
“Three thousand!” said Nathan promptly.
At once any good will which he might have manufactured by his references to America and his mission was lost in the disfavor which this announcement received. Imprecations and abuses were hurled at him as though he personally were responsible.
“How far Czech’s line go?” was the next query.
“As far as Chita,” Nathan responded. “From there to Harbin the Japanese are in control.”