It took but a few minutes of energetic work to put out the fire. When the commander of the Ice King saw the battered oil can and box of matches he was furious.
“The man who did this ought to be strung up on the yardarm!” he exclaimed.
“Loggermore did it, but he is not accountable,” said Chet, and told what Andy had had to say.
“Where is Loggermore?” asked Dr. Slade. “I’ll have to take him in hand.”
A hurried search was made for the crazed man, but he had run away. A party was sent out for him, and he was found nearly a mile from the ship, dancing on the ice, singing loudly, and tearing his clothing to shreds. It was with difficulty that he was brought back and placed in the ship’s brig. Then Dr. Slade gave him a sleeping potion and he sank into a profound slumber. When he came out of his sleep, he said he had had some bad dreams, but he could not remember anything of the fire or of his attack on Andy.
“He is not to be trusted,” said the ship’s physician. “You can give him his liberty, but I advise that an eye be kept on him.”
“We’ll keep an eye on him, never fear,” answered Captain Williamson, grimly.
Andy suffered very little from the attack of the frenzied sailor, and in a day or two he felt as well as ever.
“But I’ll never trust Loggermore again,” he told Chet. “After this he must keep his distance.”
Day after day passed, and at last the Long Night came to an end. There was general rejoicing, and when Andy saw the sun once more he threw up his cap in his delight, and fairly danced a jig.