"And got scared mighty badly," grinned the other. "Well, it's my turn. You leave this to me. How will I do it? You listen. See here. The papers wherever the ship goes are crammed with columns full of her history, her wonderful powers, her beauty of outline and construction; not to mention photos. And there's something far more important." "Eh, yes? What?" "There's always a list of places she's intending to visit. For instance, here's the latest telegram from India. Let's read it." Fruhmann lolled back in his cane-work seat on the veranda of the hotel and unfolded a paper. "Listen," he said, taking his cigar from his lips and admiring the cloud of smoke he sent upward. "Here it is. The cable companies are making a fortune over this airship." "As I hope to do," sniggered the magnate. "As you will do if you trust things to me. Now listen. 'Departure of the great airship. Huge excitement in India. Mr. Joseph Gresson confident of successful ending to his trip. Proposes now to steer for Borneo and New Guinea; afterwards for Australia and New Zealand. Will cross the South Pole direct for Cape Horn, and may be expected in North America. Will visit Canada finally and make a triumphal return by way of Quebec and the Gulf of St. Laurence. Those who wish to see the last of her must hasten to Newfoundland or the Island of Cape Breton.'" Fruhmann took to his cigar again, looking sharply at his master. Carl meditated deeply. He was not brilliant at any time, and was now dull to the point of exasperation. "Yes," he drawled sluggishly. "But--er--I don't quite see where this helps us. You can't, for instance, hope to come up with the ship at the South Pole." "Stop fooling!" growled his amiable lieutenant. "Who is talking of the South Pole? You want me to get aboard. Well, Canada's as good as Australia, and it's possible. I couldn't reach the first before the ship had passed. But I can reach Canada. There's a steamer leaving the Canal this very evening. She's a pleasure cruiser direct from New York, and she steams straight home from the Mediterranean. Now, I board her. Never mind if they won't take passengers. I'll smuggle myself aboard and your money'll do the rest. From New York the train takes me quick to Nova Scotia, and from there to Cape Breton Island it's a mere step." "Ah!" The fat magnate began to follow. "But----" he gasped, turning in his chair. "Then?" "Easy. I steal a boat and put out to sea just before the ship leaves Quebec. I've built a sort of raft already. I sink the boat and take to the raft, while I've been growing a beard from this very instant. I signal the ship----" "Stop!" cried Carl. "It may be night-time when she comes over." "But I have a lamp. Fortunate, ain't it? It's all I've saved from my boat. A mere lamp! No food. No drink. Just that lucky lamp, and I signal. I'm taken aboard. I'm ill, desperately bad. I lie up in a bunk, and----" The fat magnate laughed till he coughed, and then became positively purple.