"I'd hate to be
marooned here any length of time, let me tell you, even if we did have
grub enough to last over a week. Why, we'd freeze to death; not to
mention what would become of us when the old berg crashed over and
scattered all this floe ice!"
"Let's hope that our stay will be of short duration then," said Beverly,
with a quick and apprehensive glance in the direction of the towering
iceberg, upon the peak of which the last rays of the sinking sun glinted
until it seemed to be frosted with a million diamonds.
Tom was already busily engaged, after the bomber had been wheeled partly
around, in order that he might have the benefit of what light remained
with the departure of day.
Beverly and Jack hovered over him, ready to give advice, or lend a
helping hand. Of course none of them had ever had to do with this
particular type of a plane; but then all engines have many similarities
in their construction, and Tom, as well as the other two, had proved
themselves to be capable mechanics, as well as able pilots.
Finally, as it was impossible for the three of them to work at the
repairs, Jack walked around and examined the singular formation
constituting the berg and attendant ice-floe.
"Why," he told himself in glee, "it floated across our path when we
needed a landing-place the worst kind, as if we'd ordered it to be held
in waiting. It might be the next time there'll be a convenient island
handy, though I hope there'll come no next time.
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