as the
_Bunting_ and the supply steamers came, but from the Russian island to
the south-west.

Jim, busily panning on the creek, was the first to see her. He dropped
his tools and hurried to the power house.

"There's trouble coming, 'Wizard'!" he said briefly, and pointed to
the steamer.

"You mean she's Russian? It's likely enough, then," was the grave
reply. "Though I don't know that they can do much."

"They chucked me off here, once!" the old prospector remarked,
revengefully.

"They'll have their hands full doing it a second time! Counting all
the workmen, we've a pretty strong gang here, Jim. And most of the men
would fight."

The steamer drew nearer, and the mining expert went into the house for
his field-glasses.

Presently she was close enough for the glass to reveal an unusually
large number of men on her deck. There was a more sinister omen
still--a six-inch gun in her bow!

"A converted cruiser! H'm, this looks serious, Jim! Send Anton here,
on the run."

The boy came instantly.

The "Wizard" shot out his orders.

"Get to the mess-tent as quick as you know how and grab some food. Get
a gun and some ammunition. Then climb up to the wireless station right
away. If I blow one blast on the engine-house whistle, don't pay any
attention. If there are two long blasts, you can come back. But if you
hear a succession of short, sharp blasts, be sure you start sending,
and keep on sending!"

Anton, keenly at attention, answered,

"What shall I send?"

"The S.O.S., first. Then the code signal for the Revenue Cutter
_Bear_--you know it, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Then send--'Americans in peril, Chukalook' and give the latitude and
longitude. You'll find that written down just inside the cover of the
International Code Book. I put it there in case of need. Repeat the
S.O.S., the code number and the message until you get a reply."

"And if I don't get a reply?"

"Keep on sending."

"Until when?"

"Until you're shot down, if necessary!"

"Very well, Mr. Juneau. You can count on me."

"I know I can, my boy. Now--hurry!"

The suspicious steamer came nearer and turned the corner of the newly
made breakwater. As she dropped her anchor, she displayed the flag of
the Eastern Siberian Republic, at that time in the hands of the
Bolsheviks.

"We've some 'sour-doughs' in the plant," suggested Jim. "If there's
goin' to be trouble, they'll be lookin' for front seats. Shall I get
'em here?"

"You might