Frank Reade Jr.'s Submarine Boat; or, to the North Pole Under the Ice.

He at once began to work upon a new invention, which he was resolved should eclipse all previous attempts. His success in this may be learned in a future number of this library.

The Explorer was in the centre of a vast, high arched ice chamber, resting upon an inclosed lake, the waters of which were subsiding, after a spell of fearful commotion.

He was far below the level of the sea. And the water was dripping from the berg inclosed in a basin impervious to any connection with the waters of the ocean.

“Oh, no, I reckon it’s all safe enough now,” said Frank, lightly. “It was only the breaking off of some distant part of the berg. Let us go on once more.”

“Here lie the bodies of Jim Peters, Andy Hardy, and Mike Walsh, of the crew of the brig Solitaire. Lost in a fog, six of us are cast adrift in the Arctic without food, and with...

“I belong in St. Johns,” he said, explanatively. “I live with my uncle, Peter Davison, a very wealthy man. There are three cousins of us--myself, Pete Clifford and Jim Mason.

“I am going to scour the Arctic Ocean and reach the Pole,” cried Frank, earnestly, “if I have to proceed as Jason did when he invaded the Labyrinth--mark my course with a thread.”

The course to the sea was uneventful, and we will pass over a lapse of time to find the Explorer forging along at a rapid rate of speed through the Atlantic off the coast of New...

“Three years cast away in this accursed region! Oh, for a chance for life! Alas! none of us, the three survivors of the crew of the Arabella (the ship sent by the American Explo...

“Exactly. As yet nobody has succeeded in reaching that coveted point. Now, I propose to attempt it in a novel manner. If I cannot get there over the ice, I shall go there under...

“Abandon it!” he said; “no good will come of it. I have dwelt here with the Esquimaux for many years and have not even been able to find my way home. If any human beings could r...