OUT OF EXILE—BARNEY’S JOKE.
The Russian officer of the guard saluted and made reply:
“I am he. What have you?”
“We are from Moscow. We have traveled day and night to reach you with a
message from the Czar.”
At once the prison captain drew himself up with dignity and importance.
“I will read it,” he said, pompously.
One of the couriers tendered him a document. He read it to himself and
his brow cleared. Then he said:
“Nicolas Mafetodi, I have to say that his most gracious majesty, the
Czar, has sent you full and absolute pardon. It has been discovered that
you are innocent of the charge brought against you. Count Valdstedt has
confessed.”
“Olga!” murmured the exile, with a light of delirious happiness in his
eyes. Then it faded and he reeled back.
He fell to the ground like a log. Instantly all rushed forward. Frank
Reade, Jr., bent over him, feeling his pulse, and said:
“Give him air! He has only fainted.”
But the awful strain and suffering experienced by Nicolas had told
seriously upon his strength.
However, he soon recovered with the aid of stimulants. He managed to
mount a horse.
But before doing this he half prostrated himself at Frank’s feet.
“Oh! good, kind American!” he cried. “There will always be a place in
the heart of Nicolas for you. Never shall I forget you!”
Then all mounted their horses. The couriers rode in advance. All saluted
the voyagers and then the cavalcade dashed away.
Our voyagers watched them until long out of sight.
Then Frank Reade, Jr., drew a deep breath.
“One man’s wrongs righted!” he said. “I am very glad!”
“Amen!” said Professor Gaston, and Barney and Pomp looked their
feelings.
It was but an hour before noon. The little incident had taken up several
hours of time.
But it was decided to resume the journey at once. There were many miles
to cover before reaching the pole.
The airship since its overhauling was in first-class shape. It rose into
the air as buoyant as a bird and sailed away to the northward.
All were extremely glad that there had been no collision with the prison
guard.
Lives would have been lost, perhaps some of their own number would have
been killed and the affair been most serious for all parties.
The reprieve had come just in the nick of time. The couriers were
entitled to great credit for hunting the prison captain up so promptly.
Every day now the distance across the Arctic was lessened.
Fur suits were in order—for the cold was most bitter.
“Begorra, it’s t sticker to me, shure!” cried Barney, in perplexity.
“However can it be so much colder at the North Pole than at the South
Pole?”
“It is no colder,” replied Professor Gaston.
“Phwat’s that, sor?”
“I say it’s no colder.”
“Well, I’m shure it is!”
“Nonsense!” declared Gaston. “The thermometer will not agree with your
statement. But I think myself that one feels the cold of the northern
frigid zone more than that of the south.”
“Well, sor,” cried Barney, not to be outdone in an argument, “what’s
that but being a bit colder!”
“You may be colder,” laughed the professor, “but the weather is not.”
“Shure, thin, phwy is it that I am so much colder?” protested Barney.
“A peculiar state of affairs which gives two different colds. The
atmosphere at the South Pole is a trifle more mild. It is a volcanic
region, and perhaps that may account for it. It is true that the Arctic
cold is more penetrating. Yet the thermometer averages the same.”
Barney did not attempt to argue the subject further.
He was satisfied, and now turned his attention to Pomp. For several days
he had been itching for an opportunity to get square with the darky for
the result of the last practical joke.
The Celt did some deep studying, and finally conjured up a racket which
he believed would settle accounts with the darky in good shape.
The Irishman succeeded in abstracting what was called an invisible wire
from Frank’s private locker.
This was a very thin but immensely strong steel wire, of about the size
of cotton thread. But it was capable of conducting just as powerful an
electric current as one five times the size.
It answered the Celt’s purpose to a dot. At once he proceeded to work
his plans.
Pomp was very methodical in the most of his habits.
In retiring he had a certain way of hanging up his clothes and of
tumbling into bed even. It was unvarying in all cases.
His shoes were placed side by side just under the head of his bunk and
always in the same position.
Barney had noted this many times and had frequently joked the darky
about it.
“Don’ yo’ fool yo’se’f!” Pomp retorted. “Dis chile hab been in a house
what hab cotched afiah an’ I done beliebe in havin’ ebert’ing ready to
tumble into quick in case dar is any fiah.”
Barney laughed heartily. But this very peculiarity of the darky now gave
him an excellent chance.
That night the darky retired at his usual hour. It had been his first
watch and it was past midnight when he turned in.
Barney was on duty for the rest of the night. The Celt waited until all
was quiet and he was assured that Pomp was sound asleep.
Then he crept down into the cabin.
He brought from the dynamo-room the two long coils of invisible wire.
These were fastened to screws connected with the dynamos.
Reaching down, Barney slipped a small end of the wire into each shoe of
the darky’s. This he fastened in such a way that it could not be easily
removed, and yet would not interfere with putting the shoes on.
He made a complete circuit, and then turned on the current.
Now was the time for the fun to begin.
It was a peculiarity of Pomp’s that when suddenly awakened his first
move was to don his shoes.
He would not more have thought of leaving his bunk without his shoes on
than of flying to the moon.
So Barney had the wires well laid. He made sure that everything was all
ready.
Then he leaned over and shouted in the darky’s ear:
“Foire—foire!”
The result was immediate. Pomp sprang up with a wild yell.
“Massy sakes alibe! Don’ burn dis po’ chile up! Sabe me! Fo’ de Lor’!”
“Hurry up!” shouted Barney from the engine-room. “There’s no toime to
lose! Jump into yer boots an’ come on!”
“Jes’ yo’ wait fo’ me, I’ish!” gurgled Pomp, who had not yet got the
sticks of slumber out of his head. “I’se gwine to be wif yo’ right
away!”
Then the excited darky made a grab for his shoes. Down into one of them
went his foot.
The next moment, he went sailing up in a convulsive leap, and struck the
partition overhead.
“Golly—massy—whoop la—whoo—I’se done killed! Sabe dis chile!” he yelled,
wildly. “Wha’ am de mattah?”
The shoe flew off and Pomp was instantly relieved. He was wide awake
now. He knew that he had received a tremendous shock, but he could not
tell whether it had struck him in the feet or his head.
He imagined that the fire had caused some part of the framework of his
bunk to become charged.
Could he have seen Barney at that moment in the engine-room he would
have been enlightened.
The Celt was doubled up into a round ball, laughing for all he was
worth, silently.
“Fo’ massy sakes, wha’ am mah shoe?” sputtered Pomp.
But he saw it at that moment and reached for it. Happily his hand did
not strike the invisible wire.
Again Pomp’s foot went down into the shoe with great force. Once again
he was literally lifted in the air.
This time the shoe stuck longer, and he went flopping over the floor in
literal agony. Out of compassion Barney shut off the current.
“Begorra, it’s square I am wid him now!” he muttered. “Shure, he’ll
niver thry to play a thrick on me again!”
Pomp had now recovered from his second shock. He put his hand down to
the shoe and felt the invisible wire.
In a moment he had it in his hands, and as he followed it a
comprehension of all burst upon him.
There was no fire; it was only a neat joke of Barney’s, and now he heard
the haw-haw of the Irishman in the engine-room.
“Great ’possums!” he reflected, sagely, “dat I’ishman hab done got de
bes’ ob me dis time. But I’ll bet mah life he don’ do it agen!”
Then he crept slowly and sorrowfully back into his bunk.
Barney met Pomp the next morning on the engine-room stairs, but nothing
was said. There was a twinkle in Pomp’s eyes, however, which boded no
good.
The airship now had reached the frozen seas. Vast fields of ice, densely
packed, extended as far as the eye could reach.
The cold was something frightful. To add to the discomforts a blinding
snowstorm began its sway.
For hours the Dart battled with the blinding snow. Then Frank decided to
find a good place and wait until the storm was over. Much damage was
being done to the wings and rotascope by the heavy snow.
So the young inventor selected a spot under the cover of a mighty berg
or peak of ice which rose into the air for a height of full a hundred
feet.
This kept off the brunt of the storm, and here the airship rested
safely.
The electric heating apparatus was taxed to its fullest capacity, for
the cold was something frightful.
All remained closely domiciled in the cabin. Frank had the rotascope and
wings folded up so that the wind could not damage them.
And here in the gloom of the Arctic night the voyagers waited for the
storm to cease.
Barney and Pomp were in their usual cheerful mood, and did much to keep
up the spirits of the party with fiddle and banjo.
Irish melodies and negro songs were blended, and even Frank sang a
sentimental song, for he was possessed of a beautiful tenor voice.
The storm raged for a long time. Indeed, it seemed as if the airship
must be finally buried in the fearful white drift.
But at length the temperature began to rise, and Barney suggested a
little trip outside.
“Shure, I haven’t used me snowshoes yet,” he declared. “And here is a
most illegant opportunity.”
All agreed with the lively Celt.
The snowshoes were brought out and all donned them. Then the thickest of
furs were worn.
For the cold was most bitter, and unless warmly clad human life could be
supported but a very short time.
Opening the cabin door the voyagers walked out upon the snow-clad deck.
It was a wild and wonderful scene which was presented to them.