Peering over he saw the Irishman.
“Thunder!” he cried, with a thrill of hope darting through him.
“Am he gone?” cried Pomp, reaching the deck.
“No; help me haul up the broken stay.”
“Wha? fo’?”
“He’s on the end of it.”
“Glory halleluyah!”
They both grasped the line and began to haul the Irishman up.
Barney was pulled half-way up to the deck in this manner, when suddenly there came a shout from the professor.
“The ice ship is falling!”