“If they submerge,” suggested Dave, “we’ll have a slim chance.”

“H’I doubt if they understant that much,” mumbled the engineer between chattering teeth.  “H’anyway, right ‘ere’s where h’I stick, h’and once th’ bloomin’ ’eathen show a ’ead above the ’atchway, h’I ‘ates t’ think what’ll ’appen to ’im.”

“Perhaps the channel will close in and drive them ashore,” suggested Dave hopefully, as he drew his mackinaw more closely about him and crouched nearer to the conning-tower, that he might avoid the cutting air and icy spray which reached him from the prow of the submarine.

“Mayhap,” mumbled the engineer, snuggling close.

But the channel did not close.  Also, the submarine did not submerge; it plowed straight on through the dark waters of the channel.

Night passed and the pale Arctic sun revealed the two figures huddling, half-frozen, behind the conning-tower.  Daylight brought little comfort, serving only to remind them that they had no coffee for breakfast; indeed, had no breakfast at all.  This set the engineer to muttering threats against the stranger who had stolen the submarine, and caused him for the hundredth time to remark: 

“H’I ‘ates t’ think what’ll ‘appen t’ ’em, once h’I gets me ’ands on ’em.”

But the intruders stayed below while, slowly, the sun ran its brief course and then painted the ice-spires with shadows of deep purple.  As the night came on, the two men were forced to move about to keep from freezing.  Tip-toeing along, avoiding heavy glass windows, they conversed in low tones.

“We’ve been h’at h’it now goin’ h’on twenty-four ’ours,” murmured Jarvis.  “H’it’s two hundred h’an’ forty miles, h’an’ h’our course u’d be shorter than a reindeer’s.  H’if that bloomin’ ‘eathen that spoke of th’ treasure city told truth, h’I’m one fer believin’ we’re nearin’ th’ spot.”

Jarvis spoke more cheerfully than he had at any time during the strange journey.  Dave smiled, as he wondered whether this was due to the fact their walk had warmed them somewhat, or his rising hopes that they would at least get to see the fabled treasure city.

“Tell me,” Jarvis whispered, “do my h’old h’eyes deceive me, or h’is there a line of dark h’over t’ th’ right of y’?” His hand trembled as he pointed.

Dave looked long and earnestly.  The moon shone very brightly.  The snow brought out dark objects with such vividness that it would not be too much to expect to see large objects twenty miles away.

“I think your eyes are all right,” he said slowly.

“Then that ‘ud be th’ forest by the river.  Th’ treasure city ’ud be just by the ‘arbor h’at th’ mouth of th’ river, Dave.  H’I ‘ates t’ think ’ow richer we’ll be.”  The old man gripped Dave’s hand.

As for Dave, he was silent.  He was thinking first of the struggle that could not now be far distant.  It would be a bitter fight, with odds in favor of the other party.  However, he hoped the enemy had been weakened by the earlier combat.  Then he thought of the men they had so unexpectedly left behind; of the Doctor who depended upon him, and of the gobs who had served under him, a boy, so faithfully.  Such thoughts left him in no mood to think of treasure.