lane he stumbled into a snowdrift and fell against a metal wall.

He followed it around two corners before meeting a rope that led to a

door.  With a great sigh of relief, Pitt pushed open the door, savoring

the knowledge that his life had been in danger and he had won.  He

stepped inside and tensed.

This was not the living quarters, but rather a large Quonsetlike shelter

covering a series of excavations in the exposed earth.  The interior

temperature was not much above freezing, but he was thankful to be safe

from the gale-force wind.

The only light came from a Coleman lantern.  At first he thought the

structure was deserted, but then a head and pair of shoulders seemed to

rise up from a trough in the ground.  The figure was kneeling, facing

away from Pitt, and seeming absorbed in carefully scraping loose gravel

from a small shelf in the trough.

Pitt stepped from the shadows and looked down.

"you'ready?" he asked.

Lily spun around, more puzzled than startled.  The light was in her eyes

and all she could make out was a vague form.

"Ready for what?"

"To go out on the town."

The voice came back to her.  She lifted the lamp and slowly rose to her

feet.  She looked into his face, captivated once again by Pitts eyes,

while he was taken by her dark red hair that looked like fire under the

bright light of the hissing Coleman.

"Mr.  Pitt . . . isn't it?" She slipped off her right glove and extended

her hand.

He also removed his glove, reached out and gave her hand a firm squeeze.

"I prefer attractive ladies to call me Dirk."

She felt like an embarrassed little girl, mad at herself for not having

any makeup On, wondering if he noticed the calluses on her hand.  And to

make it worse, she could feel herself blushing.

"Lily Sharp," she stammered.  "My friends and I were hoping we could

thank you for last night.  I thought you were joking about dinner.  I

really didn't think I'd see you again."

"As you can hear-" he paused and tilted his head toward the moaning wind

outside. a blizzard couldn't keep me away."

"You must be crazy."

"No, just stupid for thinking I could outrun an Arctic storm."

They both laughed and the tension fell away.  Lily began to climb out of

the excavation trough.  Pitt took her arm and helped her up.  She winced

and he quickly released his grip.

"You shouldn't be on your feet."

Lily smiled gamely.  "Stiff and a little sore from a sea of

black-and-blue marks I can't show you, but I'll live."

Pitt held up the lantern and peered around the oddly grouped rocks and

excavations.  "Just what is it you have here?"

"An ancient Eskimo village, inhabited one hundred to five hundred years

after Christ."

"Have you a name for it?"

"We call the site Gronquist Bay Village after Dr. Hiram Gronquist, who