He jumped from his seat, and immediately sat down with a rude jar on the ice; but, nothing daunted, he quickly scrambled to his feet and began to dance like a wild Indian might when the war tocsin sounds through the village, and all his primeval instincts are aroused by the thought of fighting and plunder.

Tom and Lieutenant Beverly also hastened to leave their seats.  They too found that their legs were cramped and almost useless, through having maintained a sitting position during so many weary hours.

Jack’s exuberant spirits caused him to fairly hug his chum.

“Didn’t I know you could do it, Tom?” he cried.  “See how the old luck keeps hanging over us, will you?  It’s always been this way, Colin; and to have Tom along means success every time.”

“That may be,” the lieutenant replied, giving Tom a fond look; “but if I were you I’d call it something more than just luck.  It takes brains to think up such schemes as this one, brains and a lively imagination in the bargain; and Tom’s rich in both of those requirements.”

“Let’s get busy, and see about fixing that feedpipe,” broke out the modest object of all this praise.  “We have only a short time of daylight to work in, and after that must depend on our little searchlight torch.”

All were willing to start work.  Jack found himself shivering slightly, although they had not been on the ice-floe many minutes.

“Gee, but it’s certainly cold, for a fact!” he exclaimed.  “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.”