“And I guess we want to take him where he wants to go,” said he, straightening up as he looked his friend in the eye.

“Good!” exclaimed Barney.  “I was going to leave it to you, but I knew you’d do it.  It’s the chance of our lives.  I’m sure he means the Pole—­the North Pole!  Think of it!  And, then, there’s the reward!”

“Guess we’d better squeeze out of here and go break the glad news,” said Bruce, “He’s up there fairly eating his heart out.”

“The race is on,” muttered Barney, as they hurried up the bank.

“The race is on,” echoed the Major, a few minutes later, as he walked the floor in high glee.

“Yes, sir, it is,” said Barney, “and a good clean race it will be if Dave Tower is skipper of that submarine.  I never knew a squarer fellow.”

The Major, limbering up his wireless instruments, sent a message snap-snapping across the frozen expanse.

“What you doing?” asked Barney.

“Just letting that foxy old rival of mine know I got his message and that I’m on the job,” chuckled the Major.  “I’ll get off other messages every three hours for a time.”

“Would you mind mentioning my name in the message?” asked Barney.  “You see, I’ve got a date for a little jazz with Dave up at the Pole, and I’d like him to know I’m planning to keep the appointment.”

The Major chuckled again, and included this in his message: 

“Barney Menter, pilot.”

The party at the Aleutian station caught the Major’s second sending of the message.  The Doctor’s face grew gray, as he realized its meaning.

“Great Providence!” he exclaimed.  “Will he beat me again?” Then striking the table with his fist.  “He will not!  We’re crippled by the loss of an important member of our party.  He has the swiftest conveyance, but it is not the surest.  We will win!  We start to-morrow.  The race is on!”

As for Dave, he was more than glad at the prospect of meeting Barney at the Pole.  He was confident that both expeditions would succeed.  The only question in his optimistic young mind was, which would arrive first?  If his trying could decide it, the sub would get there first.  He and Barney had been chums since boyhood, but they had been keen competitors in all their play, study and work.  Now their wits were once more fairly matched.

“It’s the army and the navy!” he exclaimed.  “A fair, square race.  And may the best one win.”

“I might say,” remarked the Doctor, “that there is a bountiful prize offered to the first person who next reaches the Pole, and who brings back three witnesses who can make readings of latitude and longitude to testify to the facts.  Should we win, the prize will go to you and the crew.”

“I’ll go tell them,” said Dave, donning his cap.  A moment later the Doctor heard cheers which sounded like: 

“Rah!  Rah!  Rah for Doctor!  Rah!  Rah!  Rah for the North Pole!”