belongs to anyone. Everything belongs to everybody. So, when my old
friend gets too old to hunt, fish or mend nets, he basks in the sun and
needn't worry about anything at all. Pretty soft. Perhaps our friend the
Russian is not so far wrong after all if he's a communist."

"Uh-hu," the Jap grunted; then he exclaimed, "That reminds me,
Terogloona, the Chukche who lives three doors from here, asked me to
tell you to stay out of his igloo this afternoon."

"Why?"

The Jap merely shrugged his shoulders.

"I have a way of doing what I am told not to, you should--" Johnny was
about to say, "you should know that," but checked himself in time.

"Better not go," warned Hanada as he turned away.

After an early noon lunch Johnny strolled up the hill top. He wanted to
get a view of the Strait. On particularly clear days, Cape Prince of
Wales on the American side of Behring Strait can be seen from East Cape
in Siberia. This day was clear, and, as Johnny climbed, he saw more and
more of the peak as it lay across the Strait, above the white ice floes.

With trembling fingers he drew a one dollar bill from his pocket and
spread it on his knee.

"There it is," he whispered. "There's the place where you came from,
little old one-spot. And I am going to take you back there. The
Wandering Jew once stood here and saw his sweetheart in a mirage on the