"Well, that's what I'm goin' to hitch the holdin' rope on to. You'll see how it's done presently." He glanced at the clock. "Seven o'clock," he said. "I guessed mighty close when I said 'twould take us twenty hours. We left Peltonville at ten-thirty last night." "Seven o'clock!" cried Rebecca. "So 'tis. Why, what's the matter with the sun. Ain't it goin' to set at all?" "Not much!" said Droop, chuckling. "Sun don't set up here, Cousin Rebecca. Not until winter-time, an' then et stays set till summer again." "Well!" was the breathless reply. "An' where in creation does it go when it stays set?" "Why, Rebecca," exclaimed Phoebe, "the sun is south of the equator in winter, you know." "Shinin' on the South Pole then," Droop added, nodding. For a moment Rebecca looked from one to the other of her companions, and then, realizing the necessity of keeping her mind within its accustomed sphere, she changed the subject. "Come now--the' ain't any wind to blow us away now, I hope. Let's open our windows an' air out those state-rooms." She started toward her door. "Hold on!" cried Droop, extending his arm to stop her. "You don't want to fall down dead o' cold, do ye?" "What!" "Don't you know what a North Pole is like fer weather an' sich?" Droop continued. "Why, Cousin Rebecca, it's mos' any 'mount below zero outside. Don't you open a window--not a tiny crack--if ye don't want to freeze solid in a second." "There!" Rebecca exclaimed. "You do provoke me beyond anythin', Copernicus Droop! Ef I'd a-knowed the kind o' way we'd had to live--why, there! It's wuss'n pigs!" She marched indignantly into her room and closed the door. A moment later she put out her head. "Phoebe Wise," she said, "if you take my advice, you'll make your bed an' tidy yer room at once. Ain't any use waitin' any longer fer a chance to air." Phoebe smiled and moved toward her own door. "Thet's a good idea," said Droop. "You fix yer rooms an' I'll do some figurin'. Ye see I've got to figure out how long it'll take us to get back six years. I've a notion it'll take about eighteen hours, but I ain't certain sure." Poor Rebecca set to work in her rooms with far from enviable feelings. Her curiosity had been largely satisfied and the unwonted conditions were proving very trying indeed. Could she have set out with the prospect of returning to those magical days of youth and courtship, as Droop had originally proposed, the end would have justified the means. But they could not do this now if they would, for Phoebe had left her baby clothes behind. Thus her disappointment added to her burdens, and she found herself wishing that she had never left her comfortable home, however amazing had been her adventures. "I could'v aired my bed at least," she muttered, as she turned the mattress of her couch in the solitude of her chamber.