"Well," said Barney, sitting on a bedon, and kicking his heels against its steel side, "now we can take the Major to the moon, or any other did place he wishes to go; that is, if we want to."
For a long time Bruce was silent. Now that the excitement was over he realized he was homesick. Then, too, the dangers of yesterday had shaken his nerves. He was thinking, also, of La Vaune working her way through the academy when money, much money, belonging to her lay idle; and of Timmie, who awaited their return to assist him in the retrieving of his good name. But there came the after-thought: had it not been for the Major's trust in him and in Barney, none of these things would have been possible. Yes, they owed a debt to the Major and that debt must be paid.
"And I guess we want to take him where he wants to go," said he, straightening up as he looked his friend in the eye.
"Good!" exclaimed Barney. "I was going to leave it to you, but I knew you'd do it. It's the chance of our lives. I'm sure he means the Pole—the North Pole! Think of it! And, then, there's the reward!"
"Guess we'd better squeeze out of here and go break the glad news," said
Bruce, "He's up there fairly eating his heart out."
"The race is on," muttered Barney, as they hurried up the bank.
"The race is on," echoed the Major, a few minutes later, as he walked the floor in high glee.
"Yes, sir, it is," said Barney, "and a good clean race it will be if Dave
Tower is skipper of that submarine. I never knew a squarer fellow."
The Major, limbering up his wireless instruments, sent a message snap-snapping across the frozen expanse.
"What you doing?" asked Barney.