"I don't know 'bout that," Phoebe replied, as she began to set the small table for two. "I believe we're gettin' back, after all, Rebecca.

The's one thing sure. Everybody knows that ye lose a day every time you go round the world once from east to west, an' I'm sure we've gone round often enough to lose years. I believe that indicator's all right."

"We've not ben goin' round the world, though," Rebecca replied. "That's the p'int. This old iron clothes-pole out here ain't the hull world, I can tell ye!"

"Well, but all the meridians----"

"Oh, bother yer meridians! I ain't seen one o' the things yet--nor you hevn't, either, Phoebe Wise!"

Phoebe was not convinced. It seemed not at all unreasonable, after all, that they should lose time without undergoing any physical change.

She concluded to argue the matter no further, however.

Their meal was eaten in silence. As they rose to clear the table, Phoebe said:

"Th' ain't any use of goin' back to 1876 now, is there, Rebecca. Though I do s'pose it won't make any difference to Mr. Droop. He can bring out his inventions an'----"

"Not with my money, or Joe Chandler's, either," Rebecca declared, firmly. "Not as Joe'd ask me to marry him now. He'd as soon think o'

marryin' his grandmother."

"Then what's the use o' goin' back any further. We might's well stop the machine right now, so's not to have so many more turns to wind up again."

"Fiddlesticks!" Rebecca exclaimed. "Don't you fret about that! Don't I tell ye it's folderol! Tell ye what ye can do, though. Open them shutters out there an' let in some sunlight. I've more'n half a mind to open a window, too. Thet smell o' rum in there makes me sick."

"We'd freeze to death in a minute if we tried it," said Phoebe, as she entered the main room.

She went to each of the four windows and opened all the shutters, avoiding in the meantime even a glance at the middle of the room. She did not forget the date indicator, however.

"Merry Christmas!" she cried, with a little laugh. "It's Christmas-day, 1886, Rebecca."

The engine-room door was open. Perhaps it was a sign of her returning youth, but the fact is her fingers itched to get at those bright, tempting bra.s.s and steel handles. Droop had explained their uses and she felt sure she could manage the machinery. What a delightful thing it would be to feel the Panchronicon obeying her hand!

"Really, Rebecca," she exclaimed, "if we're not going back to '76 after all, I think it's a dreadful waste of time for us to be throwin' away six months every hour this way."

"'Twon't be long," Rebecca replied, as she turned the hot water into her dishpan. "You come in here an' help wash these dishes, an' ef I don't soon wake up that mis'able--" She did not trust herself further, but tightly compressed her lips and confined her rising choler.

"Why, Rebecca Wise," said Phoebe, "you know it will be hours before that man's got sense enough to run this machine. I'm goin' to stop it myself, right now."

Rebecca had just taken a hot plate from her pan, but she paused ere setting it down, alarmed at Phoebe's temerity.

"Don't you dast to dream o' sech a thing, Phoebe!" she cried, with frightened earnestness.

But Phoebe was confident, and crossed the threshold with a little laugh.

"Why, Rebecca, what you scared of?" she said. "It's just as easy as that--see!"

She pulled the starting lever.

The next instant found her flying out into the middle of the main room following Droop, the table, and all the movable furniture. In the kitchen there was a wild scream and a crash of crockery as Rebecca was thrown against the rear part.i.tion.

Phoebe had pulled the lever the wrong way and the Panchronicon was swiftly reaching full speed.

"Heavens and airth!" cried Rebecca.

"Whatever in gracious--" began the dismayed Phoebe.

She broke off in renewed terror as she found herself pushed by an irresistible force to the side of the room.

"Here--here!" she heard from the kitchen. "What's this a-pullin'? Land o' promise, Phoebe, come quick! I've got a stroke!"

"I can't come!" wailed Phoebe. "I'm jammed tight up against the wall.

It's as though I was nailed to it."

"Oh, why--why did ye touch that machinery!" cried Rebecca, and then said no more.

The speed indicator pointed to one hundred and seventy-five miles an hour. They were making one revolution around the pole each second--and they were helpless.

As she found herself pushed outward by the immensely increased centrifugal force, Phoebe found it possible to seat herself upon one of the settles, and she now sat with her back pressed firmly against the south wall of the room, only able by a strong effort to raise her head.

She turned to the right and found that Droop had found a couch on the floor under the table and chairs at the rear of the room, also against the south wall.

In the kitchen Rebecca had crouched down as she found herself forced outward, and she now sat dazed on the kitchen floor surrounded by the fragments of their breakfast all glued to the wall as tightly as herself.

"Oh, dear--oh, dear!" she cried, closing her eyes. "Copernicus Droop said that side weight would be terrible if we travelled too fast. Why, I'm so heavy sideways I feel like as if I weighed 497-1/2 pounds like that fat woman in the circus down to Keene."

"So do I," Phoebe said, "only I'm so dizzy, too, I can hardly think."

"Shet your eyes, like me," said Rebecca.

"I would only I can't keep 'em off the North Pole there," said Phoebe, as she gazed fascinated through the north window opposite.

"Why, what's the matter with the child!" Rebecca exclaimed, in alarm.

"Air ye struck silly, Phoebe?"

"No, but I guess you'd want to watch it too if you could see that ring we're tied to spinnin' round right close to the top of the pole.

There--there!" she continued, shrilly. "It'll fly right off in another minute! There! Oh, dear!"

Their attachment did indeed appear precarious. The increased speed acting through the inclined aeroplane had caused the vessel to rise sharply, and the rope had raised the ring by which it was attached to the pole until it came in contact with the steel ball at the top, when it could rise no farther. Here the iron ring was grinding against and under the retaining ball which alone prevented its slipping off the top of the pole.

"I don't see's we'd be any wuss off ef we did come loose," said Rebecca, with eyes still closed. "At least we wouldn't be gummed here ez tight's if the walls was fly-paper."

"No, but we'd fly off at a tangent into infinite s.p.a.ce, Rebecca Wise,"

Phoebe said, sharply.

"Where's that?" asked her sister. "I'll engage 'tain't any wuss place than the North Pole."

"Why, it's off into the ether. There isn't any air there or anythin'.

An' they say it's fifty times colder than the North Pole."

"Who's ben there?"