down in confusion and plucked at the edge of his coat.

"Phoebe Wise, you're only just tryin' to be smart fer argument!"

This sentence was delivered with a suddenness which was startling. Droop
looked up with a jump to find Rebecca standing at the door with a pile
of clean sheets on her arm.

She was gazing sternly at Phoebe, who appeared somewhat disconcerted.

"You know's well's I do," continued the elder sister, "that every one
o' your baby clothes is folded an' put away as good as new in the
attic."

Phoebe rallied quickly and repelled this attack with spirit.

"Well, I don't care. They'll stay right where they are, Rebecca," she
answered, with irritation. "You know we settled it last night that I
wasn't to be pestered about goin' back to 1876!"

"That's true," was the reply, "but don't you be givin' such fool reasons
for it. It's really just because you're afraid o' bein' whipped an' put
to bed--an' goodness knows, you deserve it!"

With this, Rebecca turned grimly and went into the garden to hang the
sheets up for an airing.

There was a moment's awkward pause, and then Phoebe broke the silence.

"Our plan's this, Mr. Droop," she said, "an' I hope you'll agree. We
want to have you take us to the North Pole and unwind about six years.
That'll take us back before the World's Fair in Chicago, when I was
eighteen years old, an' we can see fer ourselves how it feels to be
livin' backward an' growin' younger instead of older every minute."

"But what's the good of that?" Droop asked, querulously. "I ain't goin'
to do it jest fer fun. I'm growin' too old to waste time that way. My
plan was to make money with all them inventions."

"Well, an' why can't ye?" she replied, coaxingly. "There's that X-ray
invention, now. Why couldn't you show that at the World's Fair an' get a
patent fer it?"

"I don't understand that business," he replied, sharply. "Besides I
can't get one o' them X-ray machines--they cost a heap."

This was a blow to Phoebe's plan and she fell silent, thinking deeply.
She had foreseen that Droop would take only a mercenary view of the
matter and had relied upon the X-ray to provide him with a motive. But
if he refused this, what was she to do?

Suddenly her face lighted up.

"I've got it!" she cried. "You know those movin' picture boxes ye see
down to Keene, where ye turn a handle and a lot of photograph cards fly
along like rufflin' the leaves of a book. Why, it just makes things look
al