Her old daddy and her pictures. She never saw a young man that she cared to look at twice, unless he could do something, and then it was for his talents, and not for him. When they fall in love with her she generally gets tired of their paintings, or their music, or whatever it is, and they go away. They all seem to do it, though. You'd be in love with her yourself in a week, if you lingered about this ship. It's in the air, and everybody gets it. I wouldn't say much about it, though, if it was me. If we should go to the South Pole, you'd want to stay with the expedition, and after we got out to sea you'd have some trouble getting ashore again in case you didn't find the ship comfortable. There's another young man that comes here. scheme for "

He's got a

But Miss Gale re-entered at that moment. She had made some slight changes in her toilet, and was more entrancing than ever. Her father had been right, I thought, only he had named too long a period. He had said “in a week." His prophecy was already fulfilled.

"I say, Johnnie," greeted Gale, "why wouldn't our wireless telegraphy scheme go well with this expedition, especially with the balloon part? How about that, Chase? Would it fit in?"

"Perfectly, but Marconi seems to have it all in his own hands, as yet."

"Not by a jug-full! Johnnie's got a young man, I was just going to mention him when she came in, a sort of portigee

"Protégé Papa! Though he's not that, either. He's

"Oh, well, protyshay, then. Anyway, he's got a system that beats Macarony's to death. I call this chap Macarony, too, because he's Italian, and his name is a good deal the same."

"His name is Ferratoni, Papa, and the other isn't Macaroni, either, but Marconi. Papa never calls anything by its right name, if he can help it,” she apologized. "He gets into dreadful trouble sometimes, too, and I'm glad of it. He should be more particular."

66

All right, then, it's Ferry-Ferry what? How is it again, Johnnie?

"Fer-ra-toni."

"Now we've got it. Oh, well, let's compromise and call him Tony, for short. Well, Tony's got a system that does all that Macarony's does, and goes it one better. Obstructions in the way don't seem to make much difference, and you can use it with a telephone attachment instead of a-a what do you call it a knocker?"

"A sounder, that's it, instead of a sounder. We tried it here the other day, and could talk to him

over in the Tract building as well as if we'd been connected with the central office. He's perfecting it now for long distance, and we might take him. right along with us, and let him experiment between the balloon and the ship. How's that?"

"It would complete our plans perfectly," I agreed, "if his system of communication prove successful. But do you think he would care to go on such a voyage?"

Gale looked at his daughter.

"Do you think he would go, Johnnie?" he asked, and I thought there was a suggestion of teasing in his voice. Also, it seemed to me that there was a little wave of confusion in Miss Gale's face, though the slight added color there may have been due to other causes.

“I—why, I think he might" she began hesitatingly. "I think he would consider it an opportunity. He is deeply interested in what he calls chorded vibrations. Wireless telegraphy, or telephoning, is like that, you know, but Mr. Ferratoni goes much farther. He attributes everything to vibrations. He analyzes my poor little hobby until there's nothing left of it. He may be here to luncheon to-day, and you can talk with him," she added, and I thought the blush deepened.

Assuredly he would come to luncheon, and of a certainty he would go to the South Pole, or any

where that Edith Gale went, and would let him go. It was too late now, however, for me to raise objections. My only comfort lay in the memory of her father's assurance that it was in their talents, and not in her protégés themselves, that his daughter was interested.

Still, I argued miserably, there must some day come a time-I was sure she had blushed

A cabin boy entered bearing a tray on which there was a card. He presented it to Miss Gale.

"Mr. Ferratoni," she said, glancing at it, and an instant later I saw in the doorway a slender figure, surmounted by a beautiful beardless face-the face of southern Italy-of a poet.

My heart sank, but I greeted him cordially, for I could not withstand the beauty of his face and the magnetism of his glance. It seemed to me that it was a foregone conclusion, so far as Miss Gale was concerned, and then I suddenly realized that the South Pole without Edith Gale would not be worth looking for. Even a whole warm Antarctic continent would be a desolation more bleak than people had ever believed it. Yet I would find it for her if I could-and then my reward-she had said I should name it-it had been but a jest, of course-I realized that Miss Gale was speaking.

"We were just talking of you, Mr. Ferratoni. We have a plan which we think will interest you. Mr. Chase will talk to us about it during luncheon."

VI.

WHERE ALL THINGS BECOME POSSIBLE.

We passed out into the dining saloon-a counterpart, I learned later, of the dining-room in Mr. Gale's former cottage at Hillcrest. We were presently joined by a stout and grizzled man of perhaps sixty, with a slight sinister obliquity in one eye. He was arrayed in a handsome blue uniform, and was presented to me as Mr. Joseph Biffer, captain of the Billowcrest. I was pleasantly surprised to see that Mr. Sturritt was also to be with us. The customs on the Billowcrest, as I presently learned, were quite democratic, and William Sturritt, though nominally steward, remained the trusted friend and companion of Chauncey Gale, as he had been for many years. It is true there was an officers' mess, at which both Mr. Sturritt and Captain Biffer usually preferred to dine, but at the Admiral's table (they had conferred the title of Admiral on Gale) there was always a welcome for his officers, while on occasions such as this they were often present by request. Gale and his daughter were seated at op