But now, since he was considered to be a member of a secret service organization, he prepared to act the part for one night at least.  With the wolf skin parka hood drawn well around his face, he would hardly be recognized, garbed as he was in borrowed clothes.

The mysterious Russian had adopted a plan of sending his dogs to some outpost to be cared for by natives.  This made the locating of the igloo he occupied extremely difficult.  It had been by the merest chance that Johnny had caught a glimpse of him as he disappeared through the flaps of a dwelling near the center of the village.  The American had resolved to watch that place and discover, if possible, some additional clues to the purpose of the Russian.

Skulking from igloo to igloo, Johnny came at last to the one he sought.  Making his way to the back of it, he studied it carefully.  There were no windows and but one entrance.  There was an opening at the top but to climb up there was to be detected.  He crept round to the other corner.  There a glad sigh escaped his lips.  A spot of light shone through the semi-transparent outer covering of walrus skin.  That meant that there was a hole in the inner lining of deer skin.  He had only to cut a hole through the walrus skin to get a clear view of the interior.  This he did quickly and silently.

He swung his arm in disgust as he peered inside.  Only an old Chukche woman sat in the corner, chewing and sewing at a skin boot sole.

Johnny hesitated.  Had he mistaken the igloo?  Had the Russian purposely misled him?  He was beginning to think so, when his eye caught the end of a sleeping bag protruding from a pile of deer skins.  This he instantly recognized as belonging to the Russian.

“Evidently our friend is out.  Then I’ll wait,” he whispered to himself.

He had been there but a few moments, when the native woman, putting away her work, went out.  She had scarcely disappeared through the flap than a dark brown streak shot into the room.  As Johnny watched it, he realized that it was a small woman, and, though her clothing was unfamiliar, he knew by certain quick and peculiar movements that this was the Jap girl.

Ah ha!  Now, perhaps, he should learn some things.  Perhaps after all these three were in league; perhaps they were all Radicals with a common purpose, the destruction of all organized society; Japanese Radicals are not at all uncommon.

But what was this the Jap girl was doing?  She had overturned the pile of deer skins and was attempting to reach to the bottom of the Russian’s sleeping bag.  Failing in this, she gave it a number of punches.  With a keen glance toward the entrance she at last darted head foremost into the bag, much as a mouse would have gone into a boot.

She came out almost at once.  Her hands were empty.  Evidently the thing she sought was not there.  Next she attacked a bundle, which Johnny recognized as part of the Russian’s equipment.  She had examined this and was about to put it in shape again when there came the faint shuffle of feet at the entrance.  With one wild look about her, she darted to the pile of deer skins and disappeared beneath it.