“Help! help!” yelled Andy, at the top of his lungs. He could think of nothing else to do. “Help! help!”
“Shut up!” cried the crazed sailor. “Shut up!” And now, dropping the match he had just struck, he leaped at Andy and caught him by the shoulder and the arm.
The grip of the crazy fellow was like steel, and do his best, the boy could not break away. Pep Loggermore whirled him around and sent him crashing up against the boxes of the storehouse. There both stood, panting heavily, with the sailor’s eyes glowing like two balls of fire.
“Le—let me go!” gasped Andy. “Loggermore, you are crazy—you don’t know what you are doing. Don’t be so foolish, that’s a good fellow——”
“No, no, I’ll not let you go! You are a Jonah, Andy Graham! You shot the geese, you and that other lad, and you’ve brought us all kinds of trouble! I’ll not let you go!” shrieked Loggermore and then he slammed Andy against the boxes once more. The feet of both came down on the can and on the box of matches the sailor had dropped, smashing each down into the ice and snow.
Then suddenly a light flared up, coming from the broken box of matches. They spluttered an instant and set fire to the oil, and also to the clothing of the man and the boy. Loggermore was too crazy to mind this, but Andy was filled with horror.
“Let go!” yelled the youth, and struggled in vain to release himself. But he could not break that awful hold, and so he dragged the tar with him, and both rolled over and over in the snow. Andy tried to kick out the fire around his legs, and in the meanwhile Loggermore got a grip on his windpipe as if to strangle him. The boy tried to fight the man off, but could not, and presently all grew dark around him, and then he knew no more.
[CHAPTER XXIII—“NORTH POLE OR BUST!”]
Down in the cabin of the Ice King, close to a roaring fire, Captain Williamson and Barwell Dawson were playing a game of checkers—the captain’s favorite amusement. Chet had been watching with interest, but had now gone on deck for a few minutes, to get the fresh air and to see what had become of his chum.
Suddenly through the stillness of the Arctic night Chet heard Andy’s cry for aid. He strained his eyes and saw the flicker of a light, as Loggermore struck one of the matches.