instant before.

Nor did Johnny stop rolling then. He continued until he bumped against
the skin wall of his abode. This was fortunate also, for he had not half
regained his senses when two almost instantaneous explosions shook the
igloo, tore the plank floor into shreds, shooting splinters about, and
even through the double skin wall, and filling Johnny's eyes with powder
smoke and dust.

Johnny sat up with one hand on his automatic. He was fully awake.

"Is that all?" he drawled. "Thanks! It's enough, I should say. Johnny
Thompson exit." A wry grin was on his face. "Johnny Thompson killed by a
falling whale harpoon; shot to death by a whale gun; blown to atoms by a
whale bomb. Exit Johnny. They do it in the movies, I say!"

But that was not quite all. The blazing seal oil lamps had overturned.
Splinters from the floor were catching fire. Johnny busied himself at
beating these out. As soon as this had been accomplished, he stepped
outside.

From an awe-struck ring of native women and children, who had been
attracted by the explosion, the little Jap girl darted.

"Oh, Meester Thompsie!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands, "so terrible,
awful a catastrophe! Are you not killed? So terrible!"

Johnny grinned.

"Nope," he said, putting out a hand to console her. "I'm not killed, nor