CHAPTER II

THE STOWAWAY


She awoke to the throb of the engines, and, gazing cautiously
through her stateroom window, saw a glassy, level sea, with the
sun brightly agleam on it.

So this was Bering? She had clothed it always with the mystery of
her school-days, thinking of it as a weeping, fog-bound stretch of
gray waters. Instead, she saw a flat, sunlit main, with occasional
sea-parrots flapping their fat bodies out of the ship's course. A
glistening head popped up from the waters abreast, and she heard
the cry of "seal!"

Dressing, the girl noted minutely the personal articles scattered
about the cabin, striving to derive therefrom some fresh hint of
the characteristics of the owners. First, there was an elaborate,
copper-backed toilet-set, all richly ornamented and leather-bound.
The metal was magnificently hand-worked and bore Glenister's
initial. It spoke of elegant extravagance, and seemed oddly out of
place in an Arctic miner's equipment, as did also a small set of
De Maupassant.

Next, she picked up Kipling's Seven Seas, marked liberally, and
felt that she had struck a scent. The roughness and brutality of