Tom glanced through a few of them. Every one was an urgently worded demand that the government call off any plans for deep-digging operations at the South Pole!
“No use reading the rest of them,” said Senator Rives. “They’re all the same.
The people who sent those complaints are afraid your plans to tap the earth’s core may cause volcanoes-tidal waves-even the end of the world!”
“That’s ridiculous!” Tom protested.
“The government doesn’t think so.”
“What do you mean?”
“The same authorities who first granted permission,” Senator Rives went on, “now want the expedition delayed. They say they want time to study the matter further.”
Tom groaned in despair. “Isn’t there anything we can do-any way we can change their minds?”
SOUTHWARD HO! 133
The senator shook his head gloomily. “I’m afraid not. The authorities are fearful of angering the public.”
Tom frowned, giving the problem intense thought. Finally he said, “Senator, have you ever heard of Dr. Roy MacGregor?”
“Scientist of some kind, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” Tom said. “Probably the foremost meteorologist in the country. He also happens to be a close friend of my father’s. Suppose he were to come along with us on the expedition. He could keep in constant touch with seismological stations all over the world. And if anyone reported the slightest sign of trouble due to our operations, we’d stop drilling at once.”
The senator got up from his desk and paced around the room. “Well, Tom, it’s a good idea,” he said. “I’ll talk it over with the authorities and see if they’ll change their minds.”
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