conceal his intense interest,
"have--have you the letter?"

Marian nodded. "It is in my paint-box over in the cabin."

The boy sprang eagerly to his feet. "May we not go fetch it?"

"I can't leave my friend."

"Then may I go?" He was eager as a child.

Then after a second, "Why, by Jove! I'm selfish. Haven't given you a
chance to say a thing. Perhaps your friend's in trouble. Of course
she is, or she'd be out here before this. What is it? Can I help you?"

"She's only chilled and recovering from a trifling shock. The tidal
wave threw her into the sea."

"Oh!" The boy stood thinking for a moment. "Do--do you intend to
remain in Siberia all winter?"

"We had no such intentions when we came, but the storm and the white
line caught us. No more boats now."

"The white line of ice from the north? No more boats this season?"

Then quickly, "Say, you two can keep my cabin. The shack on the beach
is poor, and I dare say you haven't much food. There's a bunk below
the deck where I can be quite comfortable. We'll be snug as a bug in a
bushel basket."

Marian lifted a hand in feeble protest. What was the use? They were
trapped in Siberia. Here was an American who seemed at least to be a
friend.

"I'll go for your things. You stay here. Any dogs?"

"Three."

"Good! I'll be back quicker than you think."

He was away. Bounding from ice-cake to ice-cake he soon disappeared.
Marian turned to enter the cabin.

Lucile was still asleep. Marian sat down to think. She was not
certain that their position was at all improved. They knew so little
of the young stranger. She felt almost resentful at his occupation of
the wireless cabin. They could have been quite cozy there alone. Then
again, in quite another mood, she was glad the stranger was here; he
might suggest a means of escape from the exile and might assist in
carrying it out. At any rate, if they were forced to go to East Cape
for food, they would not be afraid to go under his guard.

She fell to wondering if he had reached the shore safely. Leaving the
cabin, she climbed to the highest point on the rail. There she stood
for some time scanning the horizon.

"Strange he'd be way down there!" she murmured, at last. "Quarter of a
mile south of the cabin. Perhaps the ice carried him south."

The distance was so great she could distinguish a figure, a mere speck,
moving in and out among the ice-piles that lined the shore.

For a m