The Arctic Patrol Mystery Read Free Page B

are no Eskimos, no frogs, and no snakes in Iceland.”
    Joe grinned. “Then what is there in Iceland, Miss—?”
    â€œJust call me Steina. You wouldn’t remember my last name, it’s too long.”
    The girl went on to say that there were glaciers and hidden people and night trolls—and, of course, ghosts. Then, before the boys could ask any other questions, she moved off to serve their fellow passengers.
    â€œHey, this is going to be an interesting trip!” Chet remarked, slicing through a juicy piece of steak.
    â€œWe’ll have to learn more about those ghosts and night trolls,” Frank said with a chuckle.
    Steina returned later to remove their trays, but could not tarry to chat.
    â€œShe sure is good-looking,” Chet whispered to Frank.
    But Frank’s mind was on the special equipment his father had supplied. He reached down into his flight bag tucked under the seat. The tape recorder was there in place. So was the codebook, slipped in tightly beside it. For no special reason, Frank pulled out the decibel counter. Suddenly a curious expression crossed his face.
    â€œHoly crow, Joe, what’s this?”
    His brother’s head was buried in a magazine. Now he turned to look at the object in Frank’s hand. “It’s the decibel counter Dad gave us to—” He stopped short and his eyes grew wide. “Wait a minute—it’s a radio!”
    â€œSure, it’s mine,” Chet put in. “I wonder how it got into your bag. Just before we left I gave it to Iola!”

CHAPTER III
    An Ancient Custom
    THE brothers stared at the radio they had brought by mistake. Without the decibel counter, the codebook was of no use! If Mr. Hardy had an urgent secret message, they could not receive it!
    Frank shook his head. “Whew! This Icelandic case is starting off like a disaster! First the attempted kidnapping and now this!”
    â€œI’m to blame for the whole thing,” Chet muttered, crestfallen.
    â€œNo you’re not,” Joe said. He tried to console his friend. “It could have happened to anybody. The two cases look very much alike.”
    Frank realized that they had to get a message back home as soon as possible. He beckoned to the stewardess, who hastened up the aisle and bent over the seat.
    â€œSteina,” Frank said, “we have an emergency on our hands. We must get a radio message back home.”
    â€œEmergency?”
    â€œYes,” Joe added. “This is serious.”
    â€œAll right. Come with me. We’ll go to the captain.”
    Frank followed the pretty stewardess down the long aisle. When they reached the door of the crew’s cabin, Steina knocked lightly and they entered. In the dim glow Frank saw four men who seemed to blend into the console of dials and instruments, which reached clear to the roof of the pilot’s cabin.
    The captain turned his eyes from the windshield and spoke to Steina in Icelandic. Then he switched to English and addressed Frank. “So you have an emergency, young man? ... Yes, I can send a message by radio. What is it?”
    The copilot handed Frank a pad and pencil. Quickly he printed the message to be delivered to his home in Bayport. He asked his parents to please get the black box from Iola Morton and send it to them at Keflavik Airport on the same flight next day.
    Then Frank thanked the captain and the stewardess and returned to his seat. Soon the cabin’s main lights were switched off and the passengers settled back for a short nap before the early dawn which would come about two o’clock.
    The boys dozed fitfully until the lights came on again and stewardesses busily went up and down the aisles serving breakfast. Frank looked out the window and gasped in amazement.
    â€œJoe, Chet! Look at that!”
    On the portside, rising out of the sea like a strange white world, loomed the snow-covered mountains of Greenland.
    â€œWow! That gives you the