"I left it on the ice floe," wailed the professor. "I must have it."

"Well, if it's on the floe it will have to stay there," remarked
Frank. "There seems to be no way of getting it off."

"I wonder if the captain wouldn't send out some men in a boat to look
for it," hopefully exclaimed the collector, suddenly.

"I shouldn't advise you to ask him," remarked Ben Stubbs, who just
then came up, his arms laden with packages. "We've lost one boat
through going after peppermints or specimints, or whatever you call
'em."

"Possibly, as you say, it would not be wise," agreed the professor;
"never mind, perhaps I can catch a fur-bearing pollywog at the South
Pole."

He seemed quite cheered up at this reflection and smiled happily at
the thought of achieving his dream.

"What have you got there, Ben?" asked Billy, pointing to the
queer-looking boxes and packages the boatswain was carrying.

"Dynamite, battery boxes, and fuses," replied the old sailor.

"Whatever for?" asked the young reporter. "Are you going to blow up
the ship?"

"Not exactly, but we are going to blow her OUT."