PEARY'S FINAL DASH 117 



college, standing high in all his studies in the science course. He applied 

 to Peary for a position on the 1906 Peary expedition and proved of such 

 great service that the commander sought him out and induced him to go with 

 him on the trip that succeeded. 



Marvin never knew of his success. 



In the course of a four-hour talk in the attic of a fish house, in September, 

 before starting for Sydney, N. F., Commander Peary revealed more of the 

 details of his dash to the pole, the danger of his task, his methods of avoiding 

 disaster and death and his final triumph than he has yet made public. 



On the deck of the Roosevelt as it laid in the narrow head of this barren 

 rock-bound harbor he was found by a searching party of newspaper men, to 

 whom he gave this greeting : 



"Gentlemen, I have the North Pole aboard. You are welcome to it." 



It was shortly after sunrise. His visitors had just arrived aboard the 

 Tyrian, a government cable ship, which had been sent by the Dominion of 

 Canada to bring back the famous explorer as its guest. Captain Alexander 

 A. Dickson of the Tyrian only a moment before had conveyed to the com- 

 mander this felicitous message. 



Peary, gaunt from the rigors of the Arctic, his broad shoulders towering 

 above all who surrounded him, was visibly impressed by the scene. Turning 

 to Captain Dickson he grasped his hand hard and drawing the lips of his stern 

 face still more tensely, he said : 



"You flatter me, indeed. I appreciate your invitation, but I must stick 

 to my good ship. I must go back home on its deck. It has been a good friend, 

 which I would not think it right to leave. Without it I should never have 

 been able to have searched for the pole." 



The spectacle will become history. Here was a man who said he had re- 

 turned from the frozen wilderness of the North as the only discoverer of the 

 northern spindle of the earth. The struggles of twenty-three years in quest 

 of this goal had plainly stamped their marks upon his features. They had 

 obliterated, as far as the eye could see, all the softness and gentleness of human 

 nature. Whenever a smile floated over his face it left it still more tense. At 

 the end of almost every hour he would clinch his teeth and draw his lips taut. 



His costume well befitted the occasion. His legs were encased in a huge 

 pair of rubber boots which reached to his hips, fiis trousers were of the 

 toughest weave of blue jeans. A loose-fitting blue flannel shirt did not hide 

 his powerful chest, which had the width of a professional athlete. An old gray 



