“Do you mean,” interrupted Gale, “that there are sandwiches in there?” tapping on the compartment reserved for that purpose. “Yes, sir—or were, when we started.” “Bill,” declared Gale, fervently, “if we ever get out of this snap, I’ll set you up in a business big enough to supply tablets to the whole civilized world and part of Long Island.” “I should be quite satisfied to stay—that is, to remain—that is, if we ever get back to it, on the Billowcrest,” said Mr. Sturritt simply. Gale turned to me. “How long will it take to get to that warm country of yours, Nick?” “If we keep on as we’re going, we ought to be in a much warmer climate by night,” I said, “and night won’t come so quickly, either, going in this direction. The continuous day is just beginning at the Pole, you know.” Gale leaned back. “All right,” he said, “I’d rather go to the end of the line than to try to get back over that ice-wall. Give us a through ticket and throw her wide open.” Ferratoni meantime was fishing up the telephone, and after a brief examination passed it with gentle courtesy over to me. “I do not need it, you know,” he said. I took it eagerly, though I did not quite gather his meaning. The little bell was already ringing violently. I called hastily into the transmitter: “Hello! hello! down there! All well up here. All safe and bound for the South Pole.” Edith Gale’s voice came back joyously. “Oh, Nicholas! Oh, I was so frightened!” “Don’t worry a bit. We’re a little ahead of schedule time, but we’re off all right, and have got a clear track.” There was a brief pause, during which I imagined Miss Gale might be collecting herself after her excitement, and perhaps communicating the news to the others. Then her voice came again, somewhat more calmly. “Oh, are you sure you’re all right, and how’s Daddy?” “Supplied with sandwiches, and at peace with all mankind.” My tone reassured her. “What can you see up there?” she asked eagerly. “Nothing, so far, but snow, but there seem to be light fleecy clouds to the south, or maybe they’re snow hills. If clouds, it would mean a warmer country, I think.” “How high up are you?” “Well, perhaps a mile or so.” “Very cold up there?” “It’s getting cold. We were pretty warm at first, from exercise.” “Oh, weren’t you frightened?” “N—no, I don’t think we had time.” She then asked me about Mr. Sturritt and Ferratoni, but before I could answer Ferratoni said: “You may tell her that I gain happiness with every mile that passes.” “Could you hear her question?” I asked, surprised. “Mentally, yes,” he answered. “Even at this distance there is a perfect chording of the thought, as well as the electrical vibration.” I knew then what he had meant by not needing the telephone. “Look here, we’re going down,” declared Gale, suddenly.