"My name is Polaris, which, so far as I know, is all of it," replied the young man, and instantly the odd name he gave himself and the quaintness of his speech had drawn him the interest of every man at the table. "That which I want here, it may be more difficult for me to tell you," he continued. "I came here from the far south in the ship of that man"--he pointed to Scoland--"bringing a message to the world from a man now dead, the man whom I believe first stood at the place of the southern pole. He--" Polaris got no further. Scoland sprang to his feet in white rage. "What's this?" he shouted. "Some crazy man has wandered in here. I never laid eyes on him before. Have him put out!" * * * * * For an instant there was silence in the room. At the foot of the table old Zenas Wright, who had put some marks on the maps in his own day, stared and stared. "Steve, Steve, I thought you had come back to me," he murmured. "But you were a larger man, Steve, and that was years ago--years ago." "Yes, you have laid eyes on me before," said Polaris, addressing Scoland. "A sick man came to your camp through the snows, bringing a member of your party who was lost. You took him to the ship, and your Dr. Clawson nursed him. You brought him to America. You thought him crazy and--But that matters not. I am that sick man, the man who disappeared. Any of your men will remember, or Dr. Clawson." Scoland sank back into his chair with a troubled face. President Dean turned to him and said rather acidly: "You told us nothing of the finding of a strange man in the polar regions. Is the story of this man true?" Quickly the captain thought. It was true what this man said. Any member of his crew would remember the "wild man." It would profit him not at all to lie. "Why, yes," he assented. "There was such a man. But he could not, or pretended that he could not, speak English. He appeared to be a savage and an imbecile to boot. We brought him back with us. He disappeared the night we reached quarantine. Now that I look at this man, it seems that he may be the same, although he is changed greatly. He is undoubtedly crazy." Scoland spoke confidently. Still, he felt in his heart a return of the forebodings that had warned him against this man since first he had set eyes upon him. "Who are you, lad, and how did you come to be in the south?" old Zenas Wright spoke up from the foot of the table. His tone was kindly, and there was no suspicion, only deep interest, in the keen eyes he turned on the youth. "As best I may, I will answer those questions," said Polaris. "I was born in the white south. My mother I never saw--only a grave with the name Anne above it. My father sleeps beside that grave, and above him is the name Stephen." Zenas Wright started visibly and seemed about to interrupt the tale, but did not, and Polaris continued: