Henson stopped. The blizzard had become a raging swirl of snow and ice, leaving the two men in white-out conditions.
“How much farther?” Peary asked.
“Maybe another hundred yards, but to the left,” answered Henson.
They counted their steps, fighting the freezing wind, until they reached what they felt to be the hundred yards.
“I’m the first man to the North Pole,” shouted Peary.
But as he did, the curtain of snow opened, revealing a white-bearded man in a thick red suit. His eyes twinkled and he wore a smile that warmed them to the bone.
“Second,” he said.
“How much farther?” Peary asked.
“Maybe another hundred yards, but to the left,” answered Henson.
They counted their steps, fighting the freezing wind, until they reached what they felt to be the hundred yards.
“I’m the first man to the North Pole,” shouted Peary.
But as he did, the curtain of snow opened, revealing a white-bearded man in a thick red suit. His eyes twinkled and he wore a smile that warmed them to the bone.
“Second,” he said.
