“Sure is some apparatus,” agreed Joe, appreciatively. “The fellow I envy most is that operator. I’ll tell you, he’s the one that has the real job.”
Later in the day Dr. Dale came, to be greeted boisterously by the boys. The clergyman was in a good humor himself and listened with an indulgent smile while the boys poured the story of the morning’s visit to the rangers into his willing ears.
“I don’t wonder you’re enthusiastic,” he said. “Seems to me the forest rangers have about the most romantic branch of the Government, even more so, perhaps than the men of the Iceberg Patrol.”
“What’s that?” queried the boys, instantly alert. For they knew by experience and by the far-away look in Dr. Dale’s eyes that he was thinking of something interesting.
“Why,” said the doctor, settling himself comfortably, “I had in mind the International Ice Patrol which was organized soon after the disaster of the ‘Titanic.’”
“Oh,” said Bob, with interest. “The ‘Titanic’ was wrecked by colliding with an iceberg, wasn’t she?”
Dr. Dale nodded soberly.
“Went down with hundreds of souls,” he answered. “A useless and horrible waste of lives.” He paused, while in his eyes was a great pity for those who had gone down with the great ocean liner.
“And after the horse had been stolen,” he went on, just when the boys thought they could stand the delay no longer, “our Government, as well as the Government of other nations, decided to lock the stable door.”
“And did they do it?” asked Joe eagerly.