You can imagine how surprised Boreas was when he reached the Iceberg and turning around to see how far he had beaten Billy, found that he was sailing way, way off away from him, with Squall pushing him along with all his might and main. He was furious. "Come back, come back," he called to Squall, and the boy turned back obediently to meet his father. "He has not escaped me yet," cried Boreas, jumping after Billy--and it is very doubtful indeed if he would have escaped had Squall not been so anxious to do just what his father said, for back he came with his head down and his eyes shut, going as fast as he could. Boreas, too, had closed his eyes when he jumped after Billy, and so neither knew that the other was near until they went bump right into each other. "Ouch! Ugh!" they cried and fell to the ground, the breath knocked completely out of them. And so Billy sailed far, far away toward Aurora Borealis and safe from Boreas and Squall. CHAPTER XIV. KING CALCIUM AND STERRY OPTICAN. What a dazzling sight was the town of Aurora Borealis when it broke on Billy's vision! Sparkling blue, red, and golden houses cut out of solid icebergs. Even the poorest huts shone with all the colors of the rainbow in the wavering, flickering light that rose and fell on them. When Billy alighted in the streets he stood amazed at the beauty surrounding him, but when he saw the magnificent ice palace that stood directly in front of him, he had eyes for nothing else. Higher than the highest office building he had ever seen in the City, wider than the longest block he had ever walked, and more brilliant in its changing colors than any kaleidoscope he had ever looked into. "Phew!" he said, with a great sigh of enjoyment, "that _is_ a beauty, sure enough." "Not bad, is it?" said a voice at his elbow. Looking around Billy saw a funny little chap with sharp, bright eyes--a short, pinched blue little nose, and long, tapering fingers. In one hand he carried an artist's maulstick and in the other a palette and brushes. "It is beautiful," said Billy, "can you tell me what place it is?" "The Ice Palace--I built it." "Are you a contractor?" asked Billy. "No, I'm an expander." "A what?" "An expander--frost expands--I'm Jack Frost: Architect, Artist and Ice Bridge Builder." "You must enjoy the work." "Yes, I'm fond of water colors--I suppose you've seen some of my pictures window-framed and hung in your own house?" "Yes, sir--you must be a lightning sketch artist." "Never have been out when it lightened--I'm afraid of thunder." "I didn't mean that--" began Billy. "You must learn to say what you mean," interrupted Jack Frost, "because if you should get the habit of not meaning what you say, no one could say what you meant whether you meant it or not--that's clear, isn't it?" "Not exactly," said Billy.