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 and wonderful thought had come to him. He felt that, at any rate,