Tom gunned the nuclear engines into life. A moment later, as he poured power into the jet lifters, the huge ship rose into the air.
Sandy and Phyl sat up front in the pilot’s compartment with the boys.
“Where in Alaska do you plan to buy your huskies?” asked Phyl as they streaked across the continent at a speed faster than sound.
“From an Indian named Colonel George Eagle Friend,” replied Tom.
“Goodness, that’s quite a name!”
“He’s quite a man, from what Dad tells me. Colonel Friend has a wonderful war record, and now he makes a business of breeding sled dogs. He and Dad are old friends.”
A FLIGHT TO ALASKA 115
At noontime Tom set the huge plane down on the airfield at Fairbanks, Alaska. It was strange to feel the bite of winter in the air when they stepped from the plane.
The foursome ate lunch at a local restaurant, then took a taxi to the kennels, which were located a short distance from town.
Colonel Eagle Friend, a full-blooded Alaskan Indian, greeted them with delight. He was a splendid figure of a man, tall and straight as an arrow, with a shock of blue-black hair and twinkling black eyes.
“Klahowya! Welcome to Alaska! I’m only sorry that Tom Senior didn’t come with you!”
When they were comfortably seated inside his rambling log bungalow, Tom told him the reason for their visit.
“We’d like to buy a good dog team and all the necessary equipment. You see, we’re planning an expedition to the South Pole.”
The colonel’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Another one, eh?”
Tom was puzzled. “What do you mean? This will be the first trip to the South Pole we’ve ever made.”