Tom worked on.
He too realized that the longer they were compelled to stay on the ice field the greater their danger must become. If that towering berg ever did turn over bottom-up it would smash the floe into fragments and churn up the adjacent waters in a way that would leave no avenue of escape for the trio of adventurous air pilots who had alighted there by reason of circumstances beyond their control.
His hands felt cold, and he was compelled at times to get up and thrash both arms about to induce circulation in his extremities. Beverly and Jack both offered to take his place, but Tom, having started the job, thought he had better finish it if possible.
"Everything seems to be working along as good as pie," Beverly reported, in order to add to Jack's peace of mind, for he knew the other must be growing a bit anxious again. Delay meant so much to Jack in this endeavor to beat the steamship across the Atlantic.
"If you've no objections, I'll rustle after that grub bag, and indulge in something to help get rid of this empty feeling I've got. We'll all feel better for something to eat," said Jack. "I think Tom could work faster if he would take time now for a sandwich."
"You're right, perhaps, Jack," returned Colin. "Although we had better wait for a full meal till we get in the air."
"Here's luck, boys!" cried Jack a minute afterwards.
"What have you found now?" asked Tom, without looking up.
"Why, the coffee's still hot. And let me tell you, it feels good to my hands. There never was a finer thing for poor air pilots than these bottles that allow them to have a warm drink when two miles up, and in freezing temperature. This will put fresh life in our bodies."
"That isn't half bad," answered Tom; "so hand it over, and I'll take a drink or two."