Without the faintest hesitation every man stepped forward. A flush of pleasure swept across the face of their young Captain.
"Thank you," he said simply. "This is just what I expected. Now, dismiss. There will be half an hour's 'stand easy.' If any man wish to take advantage of that interval to write to his relatives or friends, opportunity will be found to send the letters ashore."
While the ship's company were thus employed, Whittinghame stood by the entry-port, pondering over his plans for the voyage.
As he did so, he became aware that the flotilla of boats still hovered around, and prominently in the foreground was the pressman, who seemed none the worse for his involuntary bath.
"May as well do the chap a good turn," soliloquised Whittinghame, and beckoning him to approach waited till the boat was alongside the rope-ladder.
"Sorry I had to drop you overboard, but you asked for it, my friend," said the Captain blandly. "I hope you bear no ill will."
"Not in the least," replied the reporter with a laugh. "It's not the first time I've been 'chucked out.' Besides, as you say, I asked for it. Are you going to invite me for a trip, sir?"
"No," replied Whittinghame, "but here's some information for you: it's perfectly genuine."
The man caught a folded slip of paper on which Whittinghame had written a few words. He opened it, then gave a searching glance at the Captain's face. He had been hoaxed before and was consequently cautious.
But that glance was sufficient. He was convinced. With a few words of thanks to Whittinghame he bade the boatman row like greased lightning for the shore. Twenty minutes later the "Weekly Lyre" issued a special with the exclusive information that the airship "Meteor" was to proceed to the relief of the British Arctic Expedition.