“A commando!” gasped Arne.
“Yes. We learned to think of all sorts of ways to do things in emergencies. More than once we guided a vessel safely to port just this way.”
“A commando! That’s what Gustav wanted to be. But he wasn’t quite old enough. He says they learned everything, just about.”
“Well, we did learn a lot of things. For one thing, we learned to obey orders fast and to the letter.” He paused for a moment and went on, more as if he were thinking aloud than speaking to his companion, “But schoolboys aren’t commandos, and I don’t suppose you can expect—” He broke off and looked at Arne with a quizzical expression.
Arne was standing very straight, his eyes eager and alert as he looked back at Herr Engstrand. “Oh, sir, but I think you can expect us to—” He stopped as if he had just remembered something. “From now on,” he said emphatically, “I’m sure you can expect that.”
“I believe I can, Arne,” said Herr Professor.
His voice was serious; but it was friendly, too, and now Arne did not find it very hard to muster courage to say, “All the boys would like to know about your being a commando. The girls, too. Couldn’t you—wouldn’t you tell them about that? We’d all be interested.”
“You would?” In the firelight, Arne could see that his teacher was smiling a little. “I had an idea school was for lessons. But maybe there are several kinds of lessons. And now, Arne, up and at ’em. More wood!”
Arne rushed off, but this time he had new hope. He was working with a commando! And the commandos had got out of all sorts of dangerous situations. Herr Engstrand seemed confident that Captain Olsen and Gustav would do the same thing and bring the Stjerne in safely.
Each time they returned to the fire, they stopped to watch the ship struggling out there against the wind. Then they dashed back to work harder than ever. It was not easy to collect enough fuel in the snow, but both of them worked with a will.