Word telephoned down from the observation cockpits warned the control room that clouds to the north looked bad. This news added confirmation to that received from Harry and the Goliath raced over the waste of ice and snow at a hundred miles an hour. Every eye was strained ahead to catch some sign of the trapped submarine and its crew.
“The ice is more open here,” Andy told Serge. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the Neptune has disappeared by the time we reach there. Harry said the ice was getting dangerous and I warned them to get out at once.”
“I’ve had enough of the Arctic right now,” said Serge. “The experience with the fog scared me half to death. I thought sure we were going to crash over Greenland and we would if you hadn’t gone aloft and kept enough of it chopped off.”
“We ought to be near the Neptune now,” said Andy, “unless my calculations are way off.”
“Want me to start circling from here?” asked Serge.
Before Andy could reply, Bert came from the radio room.
“The Neptune is due north of us,” he cried. “Harry sent a flash. Said he caught a glimpse of us with the sun slanting off the silver sides.”
Serge swung the rudder over hard and the Goliath, its motors working rhythmically, bored into the heart of the northland. Ahead a solid wall of gray was mounting toward the heavens. In less than an hour the blizzard would be on them.
Five minutes later the watch in the No. 1 cockpit on top phoned that he had sighted the Neptune.
“Crew’s on the ice,” was the terse message. “The sub’s still in sight but the ice is moving and it won’t be long until the sub is gone.”