"Oh! no, Mr. Barton, my good friend," said the Doctor, handing it back; "I won't take a cent. You are ten thousand times welcome to anything I have done. I feel myself richly remunerated in the satisfaction of leaving you all happy." "Take it, Mrs. Jones, as a present from me," said Barton, and he pressed it into her hand. "You will really hurt me if you do not accept it." "Then I will do so, Mr. Barton. Good-bye," and away they shot up to the cabin. At a given signal Joe and Sam cast the anchors off, they whizzed up to the engine-room, and the mighty ball bounded skyward like a bird in the clear, frosty morning air. A very brisk wind was blowing from nearly due south, and the voyagers were delighted with the progress they made that day toward their destination. All day they sped at more than forty miles an hour over the vast elevated plains that were but barren wastes, growing every hour drearier and more desolate. "Of all the misnomers on earth, the name given this country ranks first," said Professor Gray. "What is the meaning of the word 'Labrador,' Professor?" asked Denison. "The literal meaning of the word is 'cultivable land.' As to its appropriateness, you can judge for yourselves. I do not know who bestowed upon it this misfit of a name, but it must have been a hardy explorer, who did it in a fit of spleen and wretchedness." "The Barton family seems to be comfortable and happy in poor old Labrador," said Mrs. Jones. "Yes, but my dear madame, they do not live by cultivating the land," returned the Professor. "The seasons are too variable, and the changes of temperature are far too sudden to permit raising of crops of any kind." "Mr. Barton told me that they did raise a little garden stuff, such as onions, lettuce, and radishes; but potatoes, corn, etc., invariably are nipped by frost, and never mature," said Denison. The Professor, a few moments before noon, ascended to the observatory with sextant and chronometer, and determined the latitude and longitude of "Silver Cloud," as Mrs. Jones had named the aluminum ship. He made the entry in his logbook. "There is our exact position now, Doctor," and he placed the point of a pencil on the map of Labrador. "In forty-eight hours we will be within the Arctics at this rate of speed," cried Dr. Jones, rubbing his hands with delight. The face of the country was so uninteresting and monotonous, covered more or less with snow, that the voyagers became tired of looking at it, and turned their attention to various pursuits within the cabin. Becoming tired of music, they read, played games, conversed, etc. The Doctor and Professor were each expert chess players, and their games were long and closely contested. Victory perched about as often upon the banner of one as the other.