he 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
other side. He was afraid to cross. But he only had a sweetheart to call
him. We've got that and a lot more. We've got a country calling us, the
brightest, the best country on the map. And we dare try to go back. Once
that dark line of water disappears we'll be going."
Then questions began to crowd his brain. Would Hanada attempt the Strait
at this time? What was his game anyway? Was he a member of the Japanese
secret service detailed to follow the Russian, or was he traveling of
his own accord? Except by special arrangement Japanese might not come to
America. Was Hanada sneaking back this way? It did not seem like him.
Perhaps he would not cross at all.
Johnny's eyes once more swept the broad expanse of drifting ice. Then
his gaze became riveted on one spot. The band of black water had
narrowed to a ribbon. This meant an onshore wind. Soon they would be
able to cross from the solid shore ice to the drifting floe. Surely
there could be no better time to cross the Strait. With the air clear
and wind light, the crossing might be made in safety.
Even as he looked, Johnny saw a man leap the gap. Curiosity caused him
to watch this man, whom he had taken for a Chukche hunter. Now he
appeared, now disappeared, only to reappear again round an ice pile. But
he behaved strangely for a hunter. Turning neither to right nor left,
except to dodge ice piles, he forged straight ahead, as if guided by a
compass. Soon it became apparent that he was starting on the trip across
the Strait. Chukches did not attempt this journey. They had not
sufficient incentive. Could it be the Russian? Johnny decided he must
hurry down and tell Hanada. But, even as he rose, he saw a second person
leap across the gap in the ice. This one at once started to trail the
first man. There could be no mistaking that youthful springing step. It
was Hanada in pursuit.
With cold perspiration springing out on his forehead, Johnny sat weakly
down. He was being left behind, left behind by his friend, his
classmate, the man who above all men he had thought could be depended
upon. How could he interpret this?
For a time Johnny sat in gloomy silence, trying to form an answer to the
problem; trying also to map out a program of his own.
Suddenly he sprang to his feet. He had remembered that there wa
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