All of them rushed to be right there when Gustav came down the gangplank. Then there was excitement and joy, talk and laughter, and even happy tears.
“I want to hear everything, Gustav—what happened—tell us all about it!” cried Arne, rushing at his brother.
“Wait now,” said his mother. “Gustav, we have such a supper for you! Uncle Jens and all are coming over. It is enough now we have you safe home. We will hear the story at supper.”
What a story Gustav had to tell—a story of storms, of a ship for a time fairly sheeted with ice. He told of the injury to the engines, of the radio going bad, of a struggling trip home, then another storm when they were almost there.
“It was a big fire on the cliff that helped us—perhaps really saved us,” he said. “We were trying to stay away from shore, the winds out there were so violent. Then this fire guided us in. I wonder who made that fire.”
“Arne did that,” said Bergel proudly. “Arne and Herr Professor Engstrand.”
“Of course it was his idea,” Arne said modestly. And the little company listened in wonder as he explained how Herr Engstrand had thought of the plan and they had worked together to carry it out.
“That was smart, Arne, really smart!” said Gustav. “I want to know this Herr Professor of yours. He must have had confidence in you, too, to have you help like that. It was a big job, and a good one.”