“Off at last, Chet!”
“Yes, and your Uncle Si didn’t stop you, either!” responded Chet, with a broad grin.
“If only we could have seen him when he got to the cabin!” exclaimed Andy. “I’ll wager he was mad!”
“Well, boys, it will be a long while before you see the United States again,” remarked Barwell Dawson as he came up. “So use your eyes for all they are worth.”
“Just what we are doing,” answered Andy.
The Ice King had cast off her lines quarter of an hour before, and a steam tug had headed her out of the harbor of Rathley. Now, under the steam of her own powerful engines, she was heading straight out into the Atlantic Ocean.
It was an ideal day, and the boys were in the best of spirits, even though they were leaving their native land for the first time. Chet was full of the hope that in some manner he would hear something about the missing whaler and his father.
The Ice King was loaded “to the brim,” as Andy expressed it. Below, every available space was filled with provisions and other necessities, and coal, and on deck many bags of coal were piled up amidships.
“To get through the ice, the ship must have a good head of steam on,” said Mr. Dawson. “And to have that, we’ve got to have coal, or oil.”
“How soon do you suppose we’ll strike ice?” questioned Chet.