st so dense that the
faint gleam of what was almost the midnight sun failed to pierce it.
By eleven o'clock, it was nearly dark.

"They'll attack around midnight, likely," one of the men suggested.
"Can't we make a big fire, 'Wizard'?"

"There's no wood here, Bob," the expert replied. "As for the lignite,
even if we could get enough of it here without exposing ourselves, it
makes such a lot of smoke that it would help them more than it would
us. No, we'll have to send out scouts, though it'll be dangerous for
those who go. Who'll volunteer?"

A chorus answered him, the three snipers claiming the preference.

"No," said their leader, "I can't spare you. But I'll take old-timers,
that's sure!" He chose them carefully. "Now," he said, when he sent
them out, "keep your ears open. Don't shoot unless you have to. If you
see or hear any one coming, get back as quick as you can. It's a risk,
you know!"

"Aw, 'Wizard'!" exclaimed one of them reproachfully, "you ain't
talkin' to tenderfeet!"

"If you were a tenderfoot I wouldn't have picked you for a man's job,"
the leader answered, knowing well the pride of the "sour-dough." "Out
with you, now, and quietly!"

An hour passed, and then one of the scouts crawled back.

"They're comin', 'Wizard'!"

The other three scouts followed in short order. The Siberians were
advancing in an extended line.

"To your places, men! Jim, you and the three I named will hold the
breastwork. The girl's there!"

Jim looked longingly at the edge of the gravel pit, up which the men
were creeping. He was torn between his desire to be in the forefront
of the battle and his eagerness to be near enough to protect Jameine.
But, like all men who have really known the life of the frontier, he
obeyed a leader's orders unquestioningly.

A few minutes later, out from the half-gloom and the wet fog, an
irregular line of fire ran, as a hundred or more rifles cracked
simultaneously. The miners responded with a scattering fire.

The Siberians were on them!

The fog gave the attackers an advantage. The Americans had only the
time to fire a second volley when the Siberians leaped over the edge
of the gravel pit. A furious hand-to-hand conflict began, but the
miners were terribly out-numbered.

Worse, infinitely worse, the attackers possessed those diabolical
engines of destruction which were developed in the World War--hand
grenades. These, thrown upon the frozen gravel, exploded in all
directions.