only speaking from memory. We’ll have to have radio for a trip like that. That’s another thing.”
“I suppose so,” said Lockwood vaguely. “Tell me, are there any hotels at these places, do you think?”
The pilot shook his head. “There won’t be anything at Angmagsalik or Julianehaab.”
“Where should we sleep?”
“Oh, there’s bound to be a Danish family who’ll take us in. I don’t think we shall have to camp until we get to this place Brattalid.”
He glanced at Lockwood. “Does anybody live at Brattalid?”
“I really couldn’t say. I believe it’s quite deserted.”
Ross nodded slowly. “It looks as though we’ll have to depend entirely on ourselves.” He thought about it for a minute or two. Seventy miles from anything, right up near the Arctic Circle. He would have to be very thorough in his plans for camp equipment and provisions.
He said: “Sir David seemed very anxious that everything should be done properly. It’s rather a relief, that.”
Lockwood asked: “Done properly—in what way?”
“I mean, he realises that the trip is going to cost a good bit of money. He wouldn’t hear of buying a second-hand ship.”
The don frowned a little. “How much is it going to cost, Mr. Ross?”
Ross said: “It’s a bit difficult to say, at this stage. Your brother gave me a limit of twelve thousand pounds.”
In the far corner of the room, in her deep chair by the fire, the girl dropped the book that she had been pretending to read. She turned and stared at the two men.
“Twelve thousand pounds!” she cried.
The pilot turned and looked at her. “Sir David gave me that as the outside figure that he was prepared to spend,” he said. “Actually, it won’t come to anything like that unless we get some real bad luck. If everything goes well, by the time we’ve sold the machine second-hand and cleanedit all up, I daresay it will have cost six or seven thousand.”
“But that’s a small fortune! It can’t possibly cost anything like that amount!”
The pilot’s lips tightened; he was very tired. “I’m afraid it can, Miss Lockwood. We shall probably drop three thousand selling the machine second-hand, as a start. Shipping it from Detroit to Southampton will cost about three hundred. Fuel and oil may cost another four hundred, by the time we’ve got it shipped to Greenland. I’m not quite sure about the cost of the photography—something between a thousand and fifteen hundred pounds by the time that the mosaic is made up. We shan’t be far off the figure that I said.”
The girl said: “It’s perfectly fantastic!”
Ross sighed. “I’m sorry, but that’s what aircraft cost to run, Miss Lockwood.”
The girl got up from her chair and came over to the desk. There was an air about her that reminded Ross immediately of Sir David. “Daddy,” she said, “this wants looking into a bit more. Isobel told me that she flew to Rome the other day for fifteen pounds, and I believe that’s further. It can’t possibly cost this amount of money. Don’t make any decision to-night.”
The don glanced at Ross. “It seems to have gone up a good deal,” he said mildly. “You told me four thousand yesterday.”
In his fatigue, depression closed down on the pilot. “That was reckoning on a second-hand aeroplane,” he said. “But your brother won’t hear of that. If he’s got the money to spend, I think he’s quite right.”
Lockwood said: “Ah—yes, I had forgotten that. I suppose you lose more money when you’re selling a new machine than when you’re selling a second-hand one.”
“Certainly. It’s like a motor car.” He paused. “With the slump that’s on in Canada, the price of a second-hand ship is very low. It makes a lot of difference.”
Lockwood nodded. “I quite understand.”
The girl burst out: “But, Daddy, Uncle David can’tpossibly go spending thousands of pounds in this way. Think what that money would mean to them down at the
“I suppose so,” said Lockwood vaguely. “Tell me, are there any hotels at these places, do you think?”
The pilot shook his head. “There won’t be anything at Angmagsalik or Julianehaab.”
“Where should we sleep?”
“Oh, there’s bound to be a Danish family who’ll take us in. I don’t think we shall have to camp until we get to this place Brattalid.”
He glanced at Lockwood. “Does anybody live at Brattalid?”
“I really couldn’t say. I believe it’s quite deserted.”
Ross nodded slowly. “It looks as though we’ll have to depend entirely on ourselves.” He thought about it for a minute or two. Seventy miles from anything, right up near the Arctic Circle. He would have to be very thorough in his plans for camp equipment and provisions.
He said: “Sir David seemed very anxious that everything should be done properly. It’s rather a relief, that.”
Lockwood asked: “Done properly—in what way?”
“I mean, he realises that the trip is going to cost a good bit of money. He wouldn’t hear of buying a second-hand ship.”
The don frowned a little. “How much is it going to cost, Mr. Ross?”
Ross said: “It’s a bit difficult to say, at this stage. Your brother gave me a limit of twelve thousand pounds.”
In the far corner of the room, in her deep chair by the fire, the girl dropped the book that she had been pretending to read. She turned and stared at the two men.
“Twelve thousand pounds!” she cried.
The pilot turned and looked at her. “Sir David gave me that as the outside figure that he was prepared to spend,” he said. “Actually, it won’t come to anything like that unless we get some real bad luck. If everything goes well, by the time we’ve sold the machine second-hand and cleanedit all up, I daresay it will have cost six or seven thousand.”
“But that’s a small fortune! It can’t possibly cost anything like that amount!”
The pilot’s lips tightened; he was very tired. “I’m afraid it can, Miss Lockwood. We shall probably drop three thousand selling the machine second-hand, as a start. Shipping it from Detroit to Southampton will cost about three hundred. Fuel and oil may cost another four hundred, by the time we’ve got it shipped to Greenland. I’m not quite sure about the cost of the photography—something between a thousand and fifteen hundred pounds by the time that the mosaic is made up. We shan’t be far off the figure that I said.”
The girl said: “It’s perfectly fantastic!”
Ross sighed. “I’m sorry, but that’s what aircraft cost to run, Miss Lockwood.”
The girl got up from her chair and came over to the desk. There was an air about her that reminded Ross immediately of Sir David. “Daddy,” she said, “this wants looking into a bit more. Isobel told me that she flew to Rome the other day for fifteen pounds, and I believe that’s further. It can’t possibly cost this amount of money. Don’t make any decision to-night.”
The don glanced at Ross. “It seems to have gone up a good deal,” he said mildly. “You told me four thousand yesterday.”
In his fatigue, depression closed down on the pilot. “That was reckoning on a second-hand aeroplane,” he said. “But your brother won’t hear of that. If he’s got the money to spend, I think he’s quite right.”
Lockwood said: “Ah—yes, I had forgotten that. I suppose you lose more money when you’re selling a new machine than when you’re selling a second-hand one.”
“Certainly. It’s like a motor car.” He paused. “With the slump that’s on in Canada, the price of a second-hand ship is very low. It makes a lot of difference.”
Lockwood nodded. “I quite understand.”
The girl burst out: “But, Daddy, Uncle David can’tpossibly go spending thousands of pounds in this way. Think what that money would mean to them down at the
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