The line did not break. The captain’s brother was drawn to the top of the low cliff. After that Kingston was raised. The delighted Wakefield Damon was talking all the time and could scarcely wait to help bear the two exhausted seamen down the hill to where the flying boat was being repaired.

Captain Karofsen carried the bag of gold coin over his shoulder, while the other five from the flying boat bore the exhausted sailors down the slope. When Tom and the others saw them coming they were likewise excited. The recovery of these two men completed the rescue of the party of castaways to search for whom the Winged Arrow had been brought by her inventor from the States.

“Nothing to be put down on the debit side of the column, Tom!” shouted Ned, when he drew near. “If you can make the old plane ride again, we can figure that we’ve turned the trick.”

“And Mr. Damon’s fortune?” shouted Tom.

“Bless my Russian rubles!” chortled Mr. Damon, “I could buy up the entire Russian Government monetary output now. Here is Aman Dele’s treasure that he willed me. I am a lucky man. And these brave fellows shall share in my good luck.”

He was as good as his word. It may as well be said here that Mr. Damon, with all his eccentricities, was a very honorable man. He reimbursed Captain Karofsen for his time and exertions, gave each of the sailors a handsome present, and to the captain’s brother and son he made over a trust fund that, as he had declared, would keep the two injured men from want for the remainder of their lives.

For the two who had fallen down the crevasse with the treasure chest had been exposed so long to the frost that it would be months before they would be able to go to sea. All these good offices, however, Mr. Damon arranged later through a legal representative.

Just now the entire party was anxious to discover if the Winged Arrow would fly. Half the short Arctic night had been expended in these recent exertions. Brannigan and his men had taken the tools and the gasoline stoves back into the ship. They all climbed aboard as soon as possible and once more preparations were made for a jump-off.

“If this old plane doesn’t act right now,” said Tom, “I’ll take her home and break her up for scrap. That’s a promise.”

“If you get her home at all,” said Ned. “I hope she won’t get temperamental about the time we are over the Newfoundland fishing banks, for instance.”

Their first destination, of course, was Iceland. The flying boat was overcrowded, and Tom wished to place Captain Karofsen and his five men somewhere near their own homes before launching out for the longer flight for America across the North Atlantic.

Tom’s first anxiety, however, was to get the huge flying boat into the air and learn if she would respond properly to the controls. The motors raced all right when they were tried, and he believed that he knew now just how much compressed air to order pumped into the skin of the hull.

Yet he signaled Brannigan and stood at the controls when the time came for the jump-off with a feeling of anxiety. How would the boat act? If the whole party were marooned on this iceberg as Mr. Damon and Mr. Nestor and the five sailors had been, who would come to their rescue?

“Not a chance!” Ned answered to these queries.

“All ready, Bran?” called Tom into the tube.

“Aye, aye, boss!” exclaimed the mechanician.

The hull of the flying boat began to tremble. The ice field ahead of her was quite clear of rubble and there were no chasms. The propeller began to spin and the boat rolled forward.

Trembling, shaking like some huge fowl trying to take the air, the Winged Arrow started. She cocked her nose skyward and left the ice. Up, up she soared, on a long slant into the east. The motors throbbed rhythmically while the gale whistled through the stays.

Tom felt the pull of the controls and knew that the slight rocking of the boat betrayed a good balance. On a graceful curve she left the surface of the iceberg and leaped out over the tumbling, open sea.

There was a wide channel between this huge berg and the nearest field of ice. Flocks of Arctic sea birds rose whirring beneath the flying boat. On the edge of the ice they saw two solemn looking polar bears fishing for seals. Sea lions played on one shelving beach of ice.

“Farewell to the giant iceberg!” shouted Ned, as the Winged Arrow left the mountain of crystal behind. “I hope I don’t see any ice again for a year—not even next summer! B-r-r-r! Shall we ever be really warm again?”

They were packed so close in the cabin and pilot room of the flying boat that they should have been more than ordinarily warm. It was indeed an uncomfortable journey to the nearest land.

Captain Karofsen had studied the chart and he marked a little town near Reykjavik where Tom could make a landing without attracting attention from the authorities of the island. Of course it would have been a simple matter to get by cablegram from the United States information that would show the Governor of Iceland that the Russians were trying to steal the flying boat. But that might delay the party for several weeks.

And nobody was more eager than Tom to get back to Shopton. He confided to Captain Karofsen certain messages to be sent to Mr. Barton Swift and Mary Nestor, for he expected that the flying boat would be all of three days on the journey home, even if she did not have to descend for repairs.

He made the landing on the spot Captain Karofsen pointed out, with success. Nothing needed adjusting, and five minutes after taking the ground the seamen and their captain were out of the flying boat. Then, after getting a supply of gasoline and oil, the latter made another jump-off.

“The old plane is doing you proud, Tom!” cried Ned, when they were in the air again. “Just keep away from icebergs, and I feel sure you will have no trouble with her. But believe me! if you take another flight into the Arctic, you can count me out.”

In several ways the wonderful voyage of the Winged Arrow had never been equaled by any flying boat. Her long jump over the Atlantic proved her to be a unique craft. She could remain in the air at her pilot’s will. She had proved that she could rest in rough water. And the usage she had received on the giant iceberg showed her to be a craft able to endure a deal of knocking about.

Naturally, when she returned to Shopton, she was not the spick and span looking flying boat that she had been when she left that base for the Arctic. Nevertheless, her inventor was satisfied that he knew now just what he could do with her.

“Will you sell her to the Navy Department if they want her, Tom?” asked Mr. Nestor, during the flight home.

“I am going to sell her to nobody. Not even to the Russian Government,” said Tom, smiling. “We are in no war now, thank goodness, and I mean to keep and improve this craft until she can be no further perfected. Of course,” he added loyally, “she will be at the service of the country at any time she may be needed.”

“There is a whole lot I can do to her yet to make her of more value both in war and commerce. I wish I might make these improvements, however, without so much publicity. The Swift Construction Company is getting into the papers too much.” Then he grinned suddenly. “You know, after all, what I want is a quiet life.”

Ned, listening to this, made an awful face.

“Whoo!” he shouted. “The sort of quiet life Tom Swift wants would make a jumping jack hysterical! Tom, you know you could not keep quiet and give up adventures if you had five hundred times the fortune Mr. Damon is bringing home with him from Iceland.”

“Bless my foreign exchange!” exclaimed Mr. Damon, “that is a true word you said, Ned Newton. Why, anybody who has anything to do with Tom Swift is bound to get into the most exciting situations——”

“Listen to him!” cried Tom.

“We know who is the person who manages to get into trouble without any help,” declared Mr. Nestor laughing. “I certainly am obliged to Brother Damon for taking me to the Arctic. It has restored my health. I feel like another man again.

“Nevertheless, if Wakefield Damon asks me to walk down the street with him to buy a necktie after this, I shall be afraid to accompany him. Something unexpected is bound to happen when one is in that gentleman’s company.”

“Bless my reputation!” groaned the eccentric gentleman, “have you all such an opinion of me as this? I declare! I will go home and raise fancy chickens and nothing shall entice me on another journey. Humph! That is, until Tom Swift decides to start off to the antipodes. I could not contain myself at home if I knew he was away junketing.”

Forewarned of the coming of the flying boat, half the population of Shopton and all Tom’s workmen were awaiting its appearance. Tom brought the Winged Arrow over the field behind the shops, spiraled down, and took the ground very lightly. When they opened the door in the side of the hull the first faces they saw were those of Mary Nestor and her mother and Mr. Barton Swift and his faithful attendant, Eradicate Sampson.

When Rad set his eyes on the gigantic Koku he cried out:

“Ma goodness, Mars’ Tom! couldn’t you lose dat big nuisance up da in de Antic Seas somewhar? He suah ain’t much good ’round yere. I reckoned he’d make good polar bear bait, or de like. Has I got to feed him again?”

Koku showed his teeth in a wide smile. “No polum bear kill Koku,” he declared, leaping out of the flying boat and beginning to strut. “Koku kill bear. Killum with spear. Koku great chief.”

“Koku great nuisance,” grumbled Rad, grabbing the big fellow by the arm. “Come on wid me. I got a beefsteak ha’f as big as a bedsheet to brile for yo’. Yo’ suah isn’t much good, but we got to feed yo’.”

Mr. Nestor was welcomed by his wife and daughter almost as though he had risen from the grave. His improvement in health was so great that they could not cease exclaiming over it.

Tom and his other friends from the flying boat were all greeted most hilariously by the crowd. The mechanicians and Kingston had their stories to tell. Ned hurried away on business. Mr. Barton Swift wrung his son’s hand.

“I was afraid for a while that that strange Russian would manage to make you trouble. Admiral Gilder found out about him soon after you had started on your cruise. The fellow had got credentials from the Navy Board by trickery.”

“If the Soviet Government had had a bunch of flying men up there at Reykjavik, ready to hop aboard the craft when they got us out and under guard,” said Tom, “they might have managed to get the Winged Arrow as far as Russia, and we would have whistled for any money. Their printing presses could not print rubles fast enough to pay me for this flying boat.”

“Then you consider her a success, Tom?” asked Mr. Swift smiling.

“She most certainly is. As far as I have gone I am satisfied. But I have not finished with her yet. You wait and see, Dad.”

Then he hurried away to join Mary Nestor. And, after what Tom had done for the young girl’s father, the reader may believe that what Mary Nestor said to Tom made him blush to the tips of his ears!

THE END