“I see some more of those armed and uniformed men there,” he said to Captain Karofsen. “We left Reykjavik without permission of the authorities. If your governor is one of those pompous fellows, he like enough has wirelessed an order over here to arrest us if we come down for gasoline.” “He could do dot,” agreed the schooner captain, wagging his shaggy head like a nodding mandarin. “I am going to drop inside the breakwater,” Tom said quickly. “I can see there is room there. And we can make our jump-off all right after filling the tank. Ned, pass the guns to the crew; but no ammunition. We may have to make a show of force, but of course there must be no shooting.” “Master, let Koku go ashore,” cried the giant. “Him dribe um off with his spear.” Captain Karofsen seemed much impressed by the savageness of Koku. “I pet you him undt me could clean oudt the whole town. But Misder Swift, you no be troubled. Them polize don’t fight yet unless the governor make ’em. They for what you call show—yes?” “That is all right,” laughed Tom. “But I, for one, have a hearty respect for the police of any country. Let’s get this gasoline without any fight, if we can.” With the drumming of the motors stopped, the flying boat sank to the surface of the water almost in silence. By a patent arrangement, almost as soon as the plane was on even keel one of the airtight pontoons which were affixed to either end of the wings was detached and drawn in to an open door in the hull of the great craft. This small boat was driven by a detachable motor. There was room in the cockpit for Tom and Koku and Captain Karofsen, but it was a tight fit! They pushed off immediately for the beach under the gasoline tanks. The inhabitants of the port were gathered in a wondering group just above high water mark. They were mostly fishermen and their wives and children. There were six of the uniformed police, and their spokesman immediately advanced with a blue paper in his hand. He spoke in a language which Tom did not understand, but which Captain Karofsen was familiar with. The schooner captain answered angrily. Then he said to Tom: “This big walrus make de same demandt—yes. They are all crazy yet. I bane have a goot mind to slap him. He says we steal the seaplane.” “What does he want to have us do with it?” asked the inventor. “Pring it ashore,” and Karofsen laughed. “Tell him we have to have gasoline before we can move it at all. Get the gasoline. That is the first thing to do.” Captain Karofsen, much amused, proceeded to convince the people ashore that the seaplane was immovable without a supply of gasoline. Tom had money with which to pay for what he needed, and after about half an hour’s wrangling the hose was connected to the _Winged Arrow’s_ tank and a good supply of gasoline pumped aboard.