When Rebecca set out for the Panchronicon from London Bridge, she knew that she had a long walk in prospect, and settled down to the work with dogged resolution. Her trip was quite uneventful until she neared the village of Newington, and then she realized for the first time that she did not know exactly where to find the deserted grove. One grove looked much like another, and how was she to choose between garden walls "as like as two peas," as she expressed it? "Look here, Rebecca Wise," she said, aloud, as she paused in the middle of the road, "you'll be lost next you know!" She looked about dubiously and shook her head. "The thing fer you to do is to set right down an' wait fer that pesky good-fer-nothin' Copernicus Droop!" she remarked, and suiting action to speech she picked her way to a convenient mile-stone and seated herself. Having nothing better to do, she began to review mentally the events of the last two days, and as she recalled one after the other the unprecedented adventures which had overtaken her, she wondered in a dreamy way what would next befall. She built hazy hypotheses, sitting there alone in the moonlight, nodding contentedly. Suddenly she straightened up, realizing that she had been aroused from a doze by a cry near at hand. Turning toward London, she saw a wriggling mass about fifty feet away which, by a process of slow disentanglement, gradually developed into a man's form rising from the ground and raising a fallen bicycle. "Darn the luck!" said this dark figure. "Busted my tire, sure as shootin'!" "Copernicus Droop!" cried Rebecca, in a loud voice. Droop jumped high in the air, so great was his nervousness. Then, realizing that it was Rebecca who had addressed him, he limped toward her, rolling his bicycle beside him. "How in creation did you get here?" he asked. "Ain't any steam-cars 'round here, is there?" "Guess not!" Rebecca replied. "I come by short cut up river. I guessed you'd make fer the Panchronicle, and I jest made up my mind to come, too. Thinks I, 'that Copernicus Droop ud be jest mean enough to fly away all by himself an' leave me an' Phoebe to shift fer ourselves.' So I'm here to go, too--an' what's more, we've got to take Phoebe!" "How'll ye find yer sister, Cousin Rebecca?" said Droop. "We must git out to-night. When the Queen gets on her ear like that, it's now or never. Can you find Cousin Phoebe to-night?" "Where is the old machine, anyhow?" Rebecca asked, not heeding Droop's question. "Right over yonder," said he, pointing to a dark group of trees a few rods distant. "Well, come on, then. Let's go to it right away," said Rebecca. "I'd like to rest a bit. I'm tired!" "Tired!" Droop exclaimed. "What about me, then?"