"Let me see you a minute, please, Price."
They crossed into the dressing rooms. "Margaret just called me up," the boy explained. "She thinks she's got some word or trace or something of Eric Hedon, Price."
"What—word of Hedon?"
"She couldn't, of course, but she's all worked up. Something's made her think he may be safe or was safe. She couldn't say much over the telephone. She wanted us to come out as soon as we could."
"Us?" Latham repeated doubtfully. "She asked for me?"
"I think so," Geoff assured vaguely. "Anyway, you'll come with me, won't you?"
Eric Hedon's name for almost two years had been written on the records of those who had given their lives for the mysteries of the North. He had been engineer and ethnologist with the Aurora expedition under Ian Thomas, which had gone north four years before to explore and map the last lands toward the Pole and to study the people of those most northern icebound islands not yet known to civilised men.
Seven men had made up the party which had
