Part 14 (1/2)

What had surprised him most of all had been the j.a.p's remark, as he read the notice:

”The blunderer! Wooden-headed blunderer!” Hanada had muttered as he read the printed words.

”Would you take him if you saw him?” Johnny had asked.

The j.a.p had turned a strangely inquiring glance at him, then answered:

”No!”

But they had not found him. And now the ice was going out. Soon s.h.i.+ps would be coming and going. Little gasoline schooners would dash away to catch the cream of the coast-wise trading; great steamers would bring in coal, food, and men. In all this busy traffic, how easy it would be for the Russian to depart unseen.

Johnny sighed. He had grown exceedingly fond of d.o.g.g.i.ng the track of that man. And besides, that thousand dollars would come in handy. He would dearly love to see the man behind prison bars. There would be no holding him for crimes he had attempted in Siberia, but probably the United States Government had something on him.

”Look!” exclaimed the j.a.p. ”The tower has tipped a full five feet!” It was true. The ice crowding from the sh.o.r.e had blocked behind the tower, which stood several hundred feet from land. A dark line of water had opened between the two towers. Evidently the harbor committee would have some work on its hands.

”They're running down there,” said Johnny, pointing to three men racing as if for their lives toward the sh.o.r.e tower. ”Wonder what they think they can do?”

”Looks like the two behind were chasing the fellow in the lead,” said Hanada.

”They are!” exclaimed Johnny. ”Poor place for safety, I'd say, but he's got quite a lead.”

At that instant the man in front disappeared behind the sh.o.r.e tower. As they watched, they saw a strange thing: the swinging platform began to move slowly along the rusty cable, and, just as it got under way, a man leaped out upon it.

”He's started the electric motor and is giving himself a ride,”

explained Johnny, ”but if it's as bad as that, it must be pretty bad.

He's desperate, that's all. The outer tower's likely to go over at any moment and dash him to death. Even if he makes it, where'll he be? Going out to sea on the floe, that's all.”

Slowly the platform crept across the s.p.a.ce over the black waters, then over the tumbling ice. The outer tower could be seen to dip in toward the sh.o.r.e. The cable sagged. The two other runners were nearing the inner tower.

”C'mon!” exclaimed Johnny, ”The Golden West. A telescope!”

Closely followed by Hanada, he leaped away toward the hotel where, in a room especially prepared for it, was a huge bra.s.s telescope mounted on a tripod. Johnny, glancing out to sea, knew that the tower would be over in another thirty seconds. The platform was not twenty feet from its goal. His eye was now at the telescope. One second and he swung the instrument about. Then a gasp escaped his lips:

”The Russian!”

”The Russian?” Hanada s.n.a.t.c.hed the telescope from him.

As Johnny watched he saw the man leap just as the platform lurched backward. The two men at the other tower had reversed the motor, but they were too late.

The next moment the outer tower toppled into the sea; the cable cut the water with a resounding swish. Johnny saw the Russian leap from ice cake to ice cake until at last he disappeared behind a giant pile, safe on a broad field of solid ice.

Hanada sat down. His face was white.

”Gone!” he muttered hoa.r.s.ely.

”A boat?” suggested Johnny.

”No good. The ice floe's two miles wide, forty miles long and all piled up. Couldn't find him. He'd never give himself up. But he'll come back.”