"Our lives, forsooth!" exclaimed Markham bitterly. "Of what value is life to us, situated as we are?" "That is one way to look at it, of course," rejoined Quinn caustically. "But I did not exile you into planetary space for the purpose of wiping you out of existence." "You might as well have done so," said Popham severely. "That is what this harum-scarum plot of yours amounts to in the long run." "You may not care to learn how I am preserving you at the present moment," continued Quinn, "nor how I shall do so in the future, yet I will tell you so that you may understand how much you owe to Mr. Munn’s foresight and courage." I was beginning to entertain a high regard for Quinn in spite of what he had done. He may have been laboring under terrible delusions, but his resource certainly commanded respect. "To my forethought," he continued, "is due the fact that you are breathing oxygen at this moment; and had I not invented a liquid which fortifies animate or inanimate bodies against heat and cold, our rush through the atmosphere of the earth would have incinerated this car and its contents—nay, would have caused it to explode and settle back on our native planet in impalpable powder." These were things that none of us, aside from the professor, had so much as taken thought of. My respect for him was growing into something like awe, and I fancied I detected traces of the same sentiment in the other three. "There are roving bodies in space," Quinn went on, noting with apparent satisfaction the interest he had aroused, "with which we might come into collision. I have a good telescope at the observatory window upstairs, and while I cannot guide this car, I can at least increase or slacken its speed so as to dodge any other derelict that may come into dangerous proximity with us." "Hadn’t you better be up there on the look-out?" queried Markham in some trepidation. He was manifesting an interest in his personal safety that pleased the professor. "There is not much danger at present," returned Quinn. "When we have plunged farther into the interstellar void, it will be well to stand watch and watch about at the telescope." "Will it not be possible to land on some other planet, Mars, for instance?" queried Popham with sudden hope. "I should prefer Mars," added Meigs, reflecting the hope shown in his friend’s face. "They have been signaling from Mars, and perhaps we can find out what they want over there." Quinn shook his head. "We are in the hands of fate, gentlemen," said he. "We may drop into some port, but what that port will be is beyond my power even to surmise." "The moon isn’t so far off," suggested Markham. "Only two hundred and forty thousand miles," said Quinn. "We should be there in less than two hours from the time of starting," remarked Meigs, after a mental bout with the figures.