ledge of the rocky cliff
from which the harpoon had been dropped. He was, however, a hundred feet
or more down toward the bay. He was watching a certain igloo, and at the
same time keeping an eye on the shore ice. Iyok-ok had gone seal
hunting. When he returned over the ice, Johnny meant to have a final
confab with him in regard to starting north.

As to the vigil he kept on the igloo, that was the result of certain
suspicions regarding the occupants of that particular shelter. There was
a dog team which hung about the place. These dogs were larger and
sleeker than the other animals of the village. Their fights with other
dogs were more frequent and severe. That would naturally mark them as
strangers. Johnny had made several journeys of a mile or two up and down
the beach trail, and, as far as he could tell, the man of mystery whose
trail they had followed to this village had not left the place.

"Of course," he had told himself, "he might have been one of the
villagers returning to his home. But that doesn't seem probable."

From all this, Johnny had arrived at the conclusion that the watching of
this house would yield interesting results.

It did. He had not been lying on the cliff half an hour, when the figure
of a man came backing out of the igloo's entrance. Johnny whistled. He
was sure he had seen that pair of shoulders before. And the parka the
man wore; it was not of the very far north. There was a smoothness about
the tan and something about the cut of it that marked it at once as
coming from a Russian shop, such as Wo Cheng kept.

"And squirrel skin!" Johnny breathed.

He was not kept long in doubt as to the identity of the wearer. As the
man turned to look behind him, Johnny saw the sharp chin of the Russian,
the man of the street fight and the many diamonds. He had acquired
something of a beard, but there was no mistaking those frowning brows,
square shoulders and that chin.

"So," Johnny thought, "he is the fellow we have been trailing. The Jap
girl wanted to follow him and so, perhaps, did Iyok-ok. I wonder why?
And say, old dear," he whispered, "I wonder if it could have been you
who dropped that harpoon. It's plain enough from the looks of you that
you'd do it, once you fancied you'd half a reason. I've a good mind--"
His hand reached for his automatic.

"No," he decided, "I won't do it. I don't really know that you deserve
it; besides I hate corpses, and things like that. But I say!"

A new a