“Well, supposing you let me look into this matter with you? I am in no hurry to get away from these parts, and I feel that you ought to let me do something in return for what you and Chet did for me.”
“I’ll be very glad to have your help, Mr. Dawson—if you can spare the time.”
“I hope the claim proves of value—for I take you to be the kind of a lad who deserves to get along,” said Barwell Dawson, smiling.
During the time spent in the cabin, Barwell Dawson and Professor Jeffer discussed the trip to the far north in many details, and the hunter even traced out an imaginary route on one of the scientist’s maps. Both men were equally enthusiastic, and after Mr. Dawson had asked the professor some more questions about himself, he at last consented that the latter should become one of the exploring party.
“But remember,” he said, impressively; “if you suffer great hardships or lose your life, nobody must blame me.”
“Trust me; no one will be blamed but myself,” answered Professor Jeffer, with equal gravity. Then his face beamed. “It will be a wonderful trip, wonderful! And we shall see so many new things,—make so many interesting discoveries! I shall take along a set of the best instruments available, and make all sorts of observations. Such a record alone will be worth all it costs to get it.”
“I do not doubt it, Professor.”
“And then the fame—think of it, the fame! Why, sir, if we succeed in gaining the North Pole,—or even if we succeed in going above Commander Peary’s highest mark, latitude 87° 6’,—it will be something for the entire civilized world to know.”
“True.”
“From today on I shall go into the hardest kind of training,” continued Professor Jeffer. “I shall fit myself to withstand the most intense hunger and the most intense cold. It is the only way.”