It was but an hour before noon. The little incident had taken up several hours of time.
But it was decided to resume the journey at once. There were many miles to cover before reaching the pole.
The airship since its overhauling was in first-class shape. It rose into the air as buoyant as a bird and sailed away to the northward.
All were extremely glad that there had been no collision with the prison guard.
Lives would have been lost, perhaps some of their own number would have been killed and the affair been most serious for all parties.
The reprieve had come just in the nick of time. The couriers were entitled to great credit for hunting the prison captain up so promptly.
Every day now the distance across the Arctic was lessened.
Fur suits were in order—for the cold was most bitter.
“Begorra, it’s t sticker to me, shure!” cried Barney, in perplexity. “However can it be so much colder at the North Pole than at the South Pole?”
“It is no colder,” replied Professor Gaston.