Tom said nothing. His father exclaimed:
“My poor girl! Passenger service to the island is probably closed until spring.”
“Then,” said Mary Nestor firmly, “there is only one hope for father.”
She looked straight at Tom, and he nodded slowly.
“Only one chance that I can see,” he said.
It was the turn of Mr. Swift to be astonished.
“What do you two young people mean?” he asked.
Tom smiled slowly. “Mary gets the idea, dad,” he said cheerfully. “I shall start for Iceland just as soon as possible. We will pick up Captain Karofsen, if he will go with us, to point out the iceberg where he left a part of his crew and the passengers marooned, and——”
“But how will you go? What route will you follow at this time of year?” Mr. Barton Swift demanded.
“We’ll go on the wings of the wind,” declared his son, laughing outright. “Of course, this eventuality is exactly what I must have built the Winged Arrow for. I will telephone the shops at once and tell Brannigan to get the crew together. I’ll take Ned and Koku. If my new flying boat is any good at all, she ought to fly to Iceland in less than three days. As soon as she can be made ready, I will start, Mary.”