“But why?” “Because it is Bolshevik.” Jimmie wanted to say. “But it's true!” However, he realized how naive that would sound. So he waited, while Kalenkin went on: “You show it only to men you can trust. You hide de copies, you take vun and make it dirty, so you say, 'I find it in de street.' See, iss it so de Bolsheviki fight de Kaiser? If it iss so, vy do we need to fight dem? So you give dese; and some day I come vit someting new.” Jimmie agreed that that was the way to set about it. He folded up a score of the leaflets and stowed them in an inside pocket of his jacket, and put on his heavy overcoat and gloves, which he wished he could give to the sick, half-starved and half-frozen Bolshevik. He patted him reassuringly on the back, and said: “You trust me, comrade; I'll hand them out, and they'll bring results, too, I'll bet.” “You don't tell about me!” exclaimed Kalenkin with fierce intensity. To which Jimmie answered. “Not if they boil me alive.” CHAPTER XXVI JIMMIE HIGGINS DISCOVERS HIS SOUL I Jimmie went to supper in the mess-hall; but the piles of steaming hot food choked him--he was thinking of the half-starved little Jew. The thirty pieces of silver in the pocket of his army jacket burned each a separate hole. Like the Judas of old, he wanted to hang himself, and he took a quick method of doing it. Next to him at the table sat a motor-cyclist who had been a union plumber before the war, and had agreed with Jimmie that working-men were going to get their jobs back or would make the politicians sweat for it. On the way out from the meal, Jimmie edged this fellow off and remarked, “Say, I've got somethin' interestin'.” Now interesting things were rare here under the Arctic Circle. “What's that?” asked the plumber. “I was walkin' on the street,” said Jimmie, “an' I seen a printed paper in the gutter. It's a copy of the proclamation the Bolsheviki have made to the German soldiers, an' that they're givin' out in the German trenches.” “By heck!” said the plumber. “What's in it?” “Why, it calls on them to rise against the Kaiser--to do what the Russians have done.” “Can you read German?” asked the other. “Naw,” said Jimmie. “This is in English.” “But what's it doin' in English?” “I'm sure I dunno.” “What's it doin' in Archangel?” “Dunno that either.” “Holy Christ!” cried the plumber. “I bet them fellers are trying their stunts on us!” “I hadn't thought of that,” said Jimmie, subtly. “Maybe it's so.” “They won't get very far with the Yanks, I bet,” predicted the other. “No, I suppose not. But, anyhow, it's interesting, what they say.” “Lemme see it,” said the plumber. “But say,” said Jimmie, “don't you tell nobody. I don't want to get into trouble.” “Mum's the word, old man.” And the plumber took the dirty scrap of paper and read. “By God!” said he. “That's kind o' funny.” “How do you mean?”