"And me!" exclaimed Tom Smith. "I didn't figure on coming with you."
"It's too late!" the old inventor cried. He turned some wheels and levers and the airship arose faster. Then he switched on the electric machinery. The big propeller began to revolve. Swifter and swifter it went. The Monarch, which had risen several hundred feet, started forward at a swift pace. "We are off for the north pole!" shouted the inventor. "Hurrah! The ship works! I knew it would!"
"Here!" roared Andy Sudds. "I don't want to go to the north pole. I want to hunt muskrats down by the creek."
"You can hunt seals and whales up north," the professor called to him.
"But I've lost my gun!" the hunter exclaimed, soberly, yet a little appeased at the prospect of big game.
"I'll give you a better one," promised Mr. Henderson. "You shall have all the hunting you want."
"I can't go to the north pole," fairly yelled Bill Jones, starting back toward the engine room. "I had a job plowing on a farm. If I don't go back I'll lose my place."
"You can hire out to me," suggested the professor. "I need a crew, and I didn't have time to ship one."
"What about me?" asked Tom Smith. "I was working on a farm like Bill."
"I'll hire you also," spoke the inventor of the Monarch.