At this word Dave dashed for the door. He had it half open. A blast of air so cold that it seemed solid ice rushed its way through the opening.
Immediately Jarvis threw himself against the door.
“What’ll y’ do?” he stormed. “I ’ates to think ’ow stiff you’d freeze h’out there in the ’alf of a second.”
Dave shook with the cold and the excitement. The stranger in the corner groaned.
Jarvis sprang to the gasoline motor.
“If we can get ’er started we’ll ’ave some ’eat.”
After five minutes of fumbling about with stiffening fingers, he straightened up with a sigh.
“Can’t make ’ead nor tail of ’er. These bloomin’ ’eathen; they make such queer riggin’s.”
Dave did not answer. He had discovered a series of sealed wet batteries lined against the wall and, having dragged one of these loose from its wiring, prepared to test it out with a piece of insulated wire.
In a second there came a blinding flash.