nd this reverses.
Is that it?"

"That's correct," said Droop, "an' if----"

She cut him short by whisking out of the room.

"What drives the thing?" she asked, as he meekly followed her.

"Oh, the's power storage an' all kinds o' works down below stairs."

"An' what's this room for?" she asked, opening the door next the
engine-room.

"Thet's the kitchen an' butler's pantry," said Droop. "It's mighty
finely fitted up, I tell ye. That future-man was what ye call a
conusure. My, but he could cook up fine victuals!"

Rebecca found this temptation stronger than her ill humor, and she rose
with alacrity and followed her companions into the now brightly lighted
kitchen.

Here the appointments were the completest possible, and, after she and
Phoebe had mastered the theory of the electric range, they agreed that
they had never seen such a satisfactory equipment.

Phoebe stood in the middle of the room and looked about her with
kindling eyes. The novelty of this adventure had intoxicated her.
Rebecca's enthusiasm was repeated threefold in the more youthful bosom
of her sister.

"My!" she cried, "wouldn't it be lovely if we could make this our house
down here for a while! What would the Mellicks an' the Tituses an'----"

"They'd take us for a lunatic asylum," Rebecca exclaimed, severely.

Phoebe considered a moment and then gravely replied:

"Yes, I s'pose they would."

Copernicus was pacing slowly up and down from range to china-closet and
back, rubbing his hands slowly over each other.

"I wish't you'd try to see ef ye couldn't change yer mind, Cousin
Phoebe," he said, earnestly. "Jest think of all there is in this
extrordnery vessel--what with kitchen an' little cunnin'
state-rooms--what with the hull machinery an' all--it's a sinful waste
to leave it all to rot away down in this here swamp when we might all go
back to the Centennial an' get rich as--as Solomon's temple!"

Phoebe led the way in silence to the outer room again, and Droop
carefully extinguished the lights in the kitchen and engine-room.

As the three stood together under the main chandelier their faces were
the exponents of three different moods.

Droop was wistful--anxious.

Rebecca looked grimly regretful.

In Phoebe's eyes there shone a cheerful light--but her expression was
enigmatic.

"Now let's go home," she said, briskly. "I've got somethin' that I want
to talk to Rebecca about. Can't you call in to-morrow mornin', Mr.
Droop?"