resulted.

"I tell you what, Mr. Droop," said Rebecca, sternly, but with a little
shake in her voice, "you've got to jest tend to business and navigate
this thing we're a-ridin' on. You can't work and play too. Don't you say
anythin' more to Phoebe or me till we get to the pole. What time'll
that be?"

"About six or half-past, I expect," said Droop, humbly. "But I don't see
how I can be workin' all the time. The machine don't need it, an',
besides, I've got to eat, haven't I?"

"When it comes time fer your victuals, Phoebe'll watch the windows
an' the little clocks on the wall while I feed ye. But don't open yer
head agin now, only fer necessary talkin' an' eatin', till we get there.
I don't want any smash-ups 'round here."

Copernicus found it expedient to obey these instructions, and under
Rebecca's watchful generalship he was obliged to pace back and forth
from engine-room to window while Phoebe read and her sister knitted.
So passed the remainder of the day, save when at dinner-time the
famished man was relieved by his young lieutenant.

Immediately after supper, however, they all three posted themselves at
the windows, on the lookout for the North Pole. Droop slowed down the
propeller, and the aeroplanes being thus rendered less effective they
slowly descended.

They were passing over an endless plain of rough and ragged ice. In
every direction all the way to the horizon nothing could be seen but the
glare of white.

"How'll you know when we get there?" asked Phoebe.

Droop glanced apprehensively at Rebecca and replied in a whisper:

"We'll see the pole a-stickin' up. We can't go wrong, you know. The
Panchronicon is fixed to guide itself allus due north."

"You don't need to whisper--speak right up, Mr. Droop," said Rebecca,
sharply.

Copernicus started, looked nervously about and then stared out of the
window northward with a very business-like frown.

"Is the' really an' truly a pole there?" Phoebe asked.

"Yes," said Droop, shortly.

"An' can ye see the meridians jammed together like in the geographies?"
asked Rebecca.

"No," said Droop, "no, indeed--at least, I didn't see any."

"Why, Rebecca," said Phoebe, "the meridians are only conventional
signs, you know. They don't----"

"Hallo!" Droop cried, suddenly, "what's that?" He raised a spyglass with
which he had hitherto been playing and directed it northward for a few
seconds. Then he turned with a look of relief on his face.

"It's the