With the sound of this verdict ringing in my ears I delivered a short speech of appreciation. Little did I realize at the time the sinister influences which had been at work to bring about the very result which so filled my heart with pride. Little did I know that among the men who sat by my side that evening sharing with me the hand and hip of friendship, passing me an occasional peanut from the store which the President was cracking with his gavel, little did I imagine that among them were some to whom the words "Traprock must go" meant a far different thing from what it did to me. But as old Tertullian has it, "_Nemo me impune lacessit_"--"What you don't know won't hurt you"; and so from a full heart I thanked them. At the end of twenty minutes, President Waxman interrupted me to ask, "When can you start?" I heard one of the older members whisper, "Not 'when can he start?' When can he stop?" "Now." I answered with characteristic brevity, giving the whispering member a look which he will never forget. The meeting broke up forthwith. Before leaving the Rotunda, Adolph Banderholtz, Secretary-for-Polar-Affairs of the Explorers Union (which I shall hereafter refer to as the E.U.) handed me a typewritten list of names. "These are our nominations for the expedition," he said with his shallow smile. "You will find them admirably equipped in their respective departments. Good-bye." TRIPLETT THE UNDAUNTED Captain Ezra Triplett, the navigator of Dr. Traprock's metamorphic yawl needs no introduction to students of marine accomplishment. To lay-readers perhaps a brief preamble is in order. Born a not-too-simple son of New Bedford, Mass., Triplett has climbed the rope-ladder of success from cabin-boy to Captaincy, from poop-deck to mast-head. Gifted with uncanny nautical skill this Captain Courageous is equally at home on ice. Seldom if ever has the camera been more successful in catching the very soul of the sitter, who in this case is standing. But whether _assis_ or _debout_ Ezra Triplett is always master of the situation. The animals in the background are not dogs but Amoks, those wild vulpines of the North which have been trained by hand to obey their master's voice.