“And now,” continued Jack Frost, “I wish you would tell me the news. Has the Equator got the Evening Star yet?” “I don’t know,” said Billy. “Why haven’t you been finding out?” “Look here, Jack Frost,” said the Equine Ox impatiently, “that’s a nice question for you to be asking. If we had been finding out, what would have become of you?” “I suppose, of course, you knew it was I who was in here when you started digging?” said Jack Frost. “Ho, ho!” roared the motorman. “He’s got the critter on that one.” The Equine Ox tossed his horns indifferently and stalked away. “Where are you going?” asked Billy. “Back to the place where the Equator ought to be,” said the Equine Ox. “I’m tired of this business. I wish I’d never come.” “He means that he wishes he’d never came,” said the conductor to the motorman. “Somehow that sentiment hits me--hits me hard.” “It hits me like a pile driver,” said the motorman. “Let’s go back with him.” “Hurry, if you are coming,” said the Equine Ox, who had overheard them. “I’ll give you a lift as far as--where do you live, anyway?” “Suburbia,” said the conductor. “All right,” said the Equine Ox; “climb on my back and we’ll be in Suburbia in time for supper. Jack Frost, you can send Nimbus back with the car.” “All right,” cried Jack Frost after them, “as soon as we find the Equator.” For a little while Billy, standing beside Jack Frost, watched them as they galloped off toward where the blue of the sky met the white of the snowfields. The Equine Ox seemed not to mind the load he carried, and just as Billy turned away the conductor and the motorman were lighting their pipes preparatory to settling down for a comfortable ride. Then Jack Frost spoke to him and Billy saw them no more. “What is that on the snow mountain over there?” Jack Frost was saying. “Let’s go and see,” said Billy, even before he turned to look. The snow mountain was only a little way off, and upon its summit some dark object seemed to move as if fluttering in the wind. “You go ahead,” said Jack Frost, “and I’ll be with you in a minute. I forgot to stop up that hole you fellows dug in the glacier. If the Equator ever gets in there he’ll destroy the whole thing again in a second.” “All right,” said Billy; “but don’t be long, for I may need help.” Jack Frost turned back, and Billy set out alone for the snow mountain, and soon got close enough to get a good view. At first he was overjoyed, for upon the mountain he saw the Evening Star, and he felt that the long quest for her was as good as ended. A few steps further, however, brought him to the brink of a circular abyss, too wide to leap over and far too deep to fall into. It shut him off completely from the peak that rose in its center. “Jack Frost will be able to make an ice bridge across it when he comes,” said Billy, so he patiently sat down to wait. In another instant he cried out in alarm.