Johnny was half inclined to believe that she was in league with the
treachery which hung over the place, and had shown itself in the form of
loaded harpoons, but when he realized that she did not urge him to stay,
he found it impossible to suspect her.

"Well, anyway, darn it!"

"What?" she smiled.

"Oh, nothing," he growled, and turned away.

Two hours later Johnny was lying on the flat 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."