There were only two persons present, both wrapped well in furs. They had been eating some cooked fish of some kind and drinking tea from tin pannikins. The man who had first got up to greet the newcomers was Mr. Wakefield Damon. “Bless my horn spectacles!” he gasped, staring. “Is that Tom Swift I see? And Koku? And Ned Newton? Bless my imagination! I certainly must be seeing things.” “You surely are, Mr. Damon!” cried Ned. “You are seeing a bunch of castaways—just as much cast away as you are.” But Tom gave his closest attention to the other man—the man who still sat before the fire. There was no mistaking him, yet he looked so different from the wan and almost helpless man who had left Shopton for the Arctic weeks before that the young inventor could scarcely believe he was Mary Nestor’s father. “Mr. Nestor!” gasped Tom. “Tom, my boy! Did you really come to find us? My brave fellow!” “I did not come expecting to find such a picture of health, Mr. Nestor,” declared Tom, clasping hands with the ex-invalid. “That crazy Raddiker wasn’t so crazy as I feared, was he? Why, Mr. Nestor, you are a picture!” “I am a picture of a homesick man, believe me,” declared Mary’s father earnestly. “I don’t know how you got here, Tom; but I hope you can take us back home in a hurry.” “Bless my seven-leagued boots! how you must have traveled to get here so quickly, Tom Swift,” Mr. Damon suddenly shouted. “How did you do it? I see the skipper must have got word of the wreck to you. But how did you fellows get here?” “Through the air,” said Ned, laughing. “The new flying boat?” demanded Mr. Nestor. “Is it a success, Tom?” “Bless my flying carpet of Bagdad!” chuckled Mr. Damon. “Never thought of that! Where is she? Can you take us all back?” “We hope to. Though it may be close crowding with the five sailors. By the way,” added Tom, “where are they?” Instantly Mr. Wakefield Damon was very grave. Mr. Nestor said slowly: “We had a terrible accident the third day we were on this ice island. We were climbing over the heights, making for a place where we thought of setting up an oar with a flag, although it scarcely seemed possible that there would be any passing ship so late in the fall. “However,” he went on, “we came to a crevasse in the ice, and in trying to cross it two of the men fell and disappeared. We could not reach them.” “And bless my disappearing riches!” burst out Wakefield Damon, “the chest with my legacy from Aman Dele fell with them. We lost the men and the thirty thousand dollars in a moment.” “That is very unfortunate, Mr. Damon,” said Tom seriously. “Where are the other three sailors who made up your party?” “They are out somewhere now hunting for food—seals or fish, or the like. Brave fellows! Bless their hats and shoestrings! I mean that all of them shall be well paid for their faithfulness to us.”