The wireless operator seized the boy in his arms and staggered across the sink with him. He fastened him safely in the noose and gave the signal for those above to “hoist away.”
Although the turning body of the youth scraped several times against the ice, he was not hurt while his uncle and the sailors drew him up. Kingston, when he saw him swinging near the top, ran back to the other man. The latter had struggled to his knees and seized the bread bag that Kingston had brought down with him by Karofsen’s advice.
What he wished to do with the bag puzzled Kingston for a moment. Then he saw what had been cached under the overshot ledge of ice, well back against the wall.
“Right-o, my man!” the operator cried. “I am wise to it. Here! Let me do all that. We’ll send the bag up before you go up. I quite understand.”
He was much excited. And the situation was indeed an exciting one. Kingston knew that the spectators at the top of the ice cliff were going to feel much amazement when that bread bag swung up there at the end of the noose.
The heavy bag swung out of his sight. Then came a yell. Mr. Damon almost fell over the brink of the wall.
“Bless my coupon bonds and the interest on my mortgages, these courageous men have saved my thirty thousand dollars! It’s gold! They broke up the chest to make a fire, but here is the money intact.
“Here, Olaf! Swing your brother up here in a hurry. I want to hug him. Bless my last red cent! if we get off of this giant iceberg alive, he and his boy shall never know want as long as they live.
“Lay onto the line, lads! Now, haul! Bless my hemp and cordage! If that line parts now, we’ll lose one of the most honest men who ever walked on two feet. Altogether, now!”