Dave sat a long time in thought. At last he decided what to do.
"Perhaps you're right, Jarvis," he said finally, rising. "But our first job is the Pole. The shaft must be nearly fitted by now. Let's see how they're coming. Perhaps we'll be away in the morning."
As they rounded a block of ice by the shore, Jarvis gave a start and seized his companion by the arm.
"D'y' see 'im?" he whispered "'E was starin' h'at us from behint them ice-piles. 'E was a Jap. I'll swear it."
"Aw, you're seeing Japs to-night," laughed Dave.
"Ow is she?" Jarvis asked of a gob whom they met.
"Right as they make 'em—now. But I'll say it was some job that. The shaft was twisted something awful—like a corkscrew. But it was some steel, that shaft, and we just het her up an' twisted her straight again. The Doc said he guessed it would be a bit short, but when we got her back in place she fitted like paint. Then we slid the old boat back in the water and tried her out and she runs like a watch."
"Grand. We're off in the mornin'."
Dave and Jarvis turned to make their way to the submarine where a single gob, pacing the white ice-surface, had laughed at his job of watching natives who could not be induced to come within a half-mile of him.
Suddenly the engineer jumped forward.