Not much could be seen of him, so swaddled was he in sheepskin jacket, aviator's helmet, and goggles. Leather trousers and leggings completed his costume. The collar of the jacket, turned up, met the helmet. Of his face, only the chin and lower part of the cheeks remained visible. The silence tautened, stretched to the breaking-point. All at once the master of _Niss'rosh_ demanded, incisively: "Your name, sir?" "Captain Alfred Alden, of the R.A.F." "Royal Air Force man, eh? Are you prepared to prove that?" "I am." "If you're not, well--this won't be exactly a salubrious altitude for you." "I have my papers, my licenses, my commission." "With you here?" "Yes, sir." "Very well," answered the Master, "I will examine them in due time. English, American, or--?" "I am a Canadian." answered the aviator. "I have seen nearly two years' active service. I rank as an ace. I bear three wounds and have been cited several times. I have the Distinguished Service Cross. What more need I tell you, sir?" His voice was steady and rang true. The Master nodded approval, that seemed to echo round the room in a buzz of acceptance. But there were still other questions to be asked. The next one was: "How did you come here? It's obvious my man didn't bring you up." "I came in my own plane, sir," the stranger answered, in a dead hush of stillness. "It just now landed on the roof of this building. If you will draw the curtains, there behind you, I believe you can see it for yourself." "I heard no engine." "I volplaned in. I don't say this to boast sir, but I can handle the average plane as accurately as most men handle their own fingers." "Were you invited to attend this meeting by either Major Bohannan or by me?" "No, sir, I was not." "Then, why are you here?" "Why am I here? For exactly the same reason that all the rest are here, sir!" The aviator swept his arm comprehensively at the ranks of eagerly listening men. "To resume active service. To get back to duty. To live, again! In short, to join this expedition and to share all its adventures!" "Hm! Either that, or to interfere with us." "Not the latter, sir! I swear that!" "How did you know there was going to be an expedition, at all?" demanded the Master, his brows tensed, lips hard, eyes very keen. The aviator seemed smiling, as he answered: "I know many things. Some may be useful to you all. I am offering you my skill and knowledge, such as they may be, without any thought or hope of reward." "Why?" "Because I am tired of life. Because I want--must have--the freedom of the open roads, the inspiration of some great adventure! Surely, you understand." "Yes, if what you say is true, and you are not a spy. Show us your face, sir!" The aviator loosened his helmet and removed it, disclosing a mass of dark hair, a well-shaped head and a vigorous neck. Then he took off his goggles.