It was clear and cold. The snow on the veranda crunched and creaked under our tread. Beyond the incongruous coconut railing the knoll-top showed white, with a blue-white beam of light from one of the side windows slanting out on it. There was no moon; a deep purple sky, with the sharply glittering silver stars. To the south, below the horizon, we knew that the sun at this hour was hovering. But it was too far down even to pale the stars now. Xenephrene was down there near it, invisible to us of the north-- Dan and I paced in silence; or talked idly of the now commonplace things of the new era of our world. "They claim they can keep the falls of the Iguazu open all year," said Dan. "And send the power by radio--even up as far as here." The distribution of electric current by wireless had been greatly improved recently. It seemed really practical now. In a few years Niagara, in the Day, might supply power and light to the dark, frozen cities of the south throughout their Night. There had been most disastrous floods throughout the world when, with the coming daylight, the snow and ice had melted. Watercourses were unable to handle the sudden, abnormal flow. But new channels were forming; nature and man alike were making adjustments to the new conditions. "If they could send us heat from the south," said Dan. "I mean direct, natural heat. These new transformers of the power-waves may be all right, but--" "Freddie can--I don't mean send it, but produce it, at any rate--" "Some day," said Dan, "we'll be able to spray all our land here with that contrivance of his. Hah! That would be a great idea, wouldn't it?" He chuckled with an ironical gibe at the absent Freddie; but still he was more than half serious. "Imagine us, Peter, getting out in the June twilight, helping the snow to melt by spraying it with heat--warming up the frozen soil, getting it plowed and planted a month earlier. If we could get our perishable vegetables down to the Argentine ahead of the others, they would bring mighty big prices--I was reading what might be done with tomatoes, Peter--" He checked himself abruptly, gripped my arm with a force that whirled me around. We stood at the veranda rail. "Heavens, Peter, look at that!" From overhead near the zenith, a shooting star came blazing down. I had never seen one so brilliant. A great yellow-red ball of fire, with a flame of tail. It seemed to take long seconds as it soundlessly fell across the sky before us--down with a blaze to the northern horizon where the Caribbean lay, a dim, dark purple in the starlight. We breathed again. "That didn't burn itself out," said Dan. "I'll wager that was a meteorite--actually came down somewhere--" "Northwest," I said. "Florida way. It certainly seemed close to us, didn't it?"