“Well,” said Scudds, grinning, “my mates and me’s of opinion that the North Pole is down in the hole, and we’re agoin’ to send you three there to see.”
“But it’s murder!” I cried.
“It’s in the service of science,” said the doctor, blandly. “We shall make great discoveries. You won’t mind, Alfred?” he said, to his nephew.
“I should have been delighted, uncle, if I had only procured my skates,” said the young fellow.
“These here’s better than skates,” said Scudds, grinning; and, to my extreme horror, they bound the young man to a block of ice, carried it to the edge of the crater, gave it a slight push, and away it went down, and down, rapidly gliding till it entered the dark mist toward the bottom.
“He’ll discover it first,” said the doctor, calmly.
“But no one will know,” I said, bitterly.
“We may get up again first,” he said, radiantly, as the men tied him on in his turn.
“Good luck to you, if you do,” said Scudds, grinning, as he tied the last knot binding the stout old fellow to the second block of ice.
“Au revoir, Captain!” said the doctor, smiling; and then they pushed him on to the inclined way, and he glided off, waving his hand as he went, till he was nearly half-way down, and then the crew seized me.