their frozen tomb.

The man was trembling with wild excitement when at last the stiff form
of the woman was extricated. She was not so much a woman as a girl,
really--and she was beautiful. But the man from the plane evidently
didn't care so much about that; nor even her almost miraculous state
of preservation. He rubbed away some of the coating of ice from her
face, and stared most intently at her forehead. Then he stood upright,
and said, simply:

"Well, I'll be damned!"

* * * * *

If Wesley Craig had been merely what he was listed as on the roster of
the Somers Arctic Expedition of 1933--that is, a geologist--he would
not have been so astounded. But his life work, really, was
archaeology. He had spent years delving in the ruins of ancient
temples, especially, those of old Egypt. He knew the ancient language
as well as anyone knew it, and was familiar with every known detail of
the civilization of the Pharaohs. And, being so, he was now properly
confused. For every bit of his knowledge told him that this girl, whom
he had found in the wastes of the arctic, was of Egyptian stock.

A certain tiny hieroglyph traced on her smooth forehead--the intricate
band around her fine hair--the very cut of the frozen robe she
wore--Egyptian--every one of them!

Yet, stubbornly, Wesley Craig wouldn't admit it. Not until he had cut
the two men from the ice and hauled all three laboriously up the side
of the cleft and stretched them out on the level ice, did he have to.
He couldn't deny it, then. In some mysterious way, Egypt was connected
with the three rigid bodies.

For the two men were garbed as warriors, and their helmets and harness
and sword-sheaths were indisputably of Egyptian design.

There, however, the similarity between the two ended. The one with the
spear was big-muscled and burly; the other much slighter of build.
This latter, Craig guessed, had been fleeing with the girl when icy
death had overwhelmed them.

* * * * *

But he did not then try to go into that, the story that some sudden
cataclysm had cut short. His fervor, as an Egyptologist, was afire. He
was burning with eagerness to get these bodies back to the main base
of the Somers Expedition, some three hundred miles south. Into the
learned circles of Egyptology, of archaeology, they'd throw a
bomb-shell that would make nitroglycerine seem like weak tea.

Craig couldn't taxi his plane c