pole."

"You would get it wet, I am afraid," said Clewe, smiling; "but
that is not the kind of glory I crave. If I can help a man to go
there, I shall be very willing to do so, provided he will make me
a favorable report of his discoveries."

"Tell me all about it," she said--"when will you start? How many
will go?"

"There is some work to be done on that boat," said he. "Let me
set the men at it, and then we will go into the office, and I
will lay everything before you."

When they were seated in a quiet little room attached to one of
the large buildings, Roland Clewe made ready to describe his
proposed arctic expedition to his partner, in whose mind the
wonderful enterprise had entered, driving out the disturbing
thoughts of the Artesian ray.

"You have told me about it before," said she, "but I am not quite
sure that I have it all straight in my mind. You will go, I
suppose, in a submarine boat--that is, whoever goes will go in
it?"

"Yes," said he, "for part of the way. My plan is to proceed in
an ordinary vessel as far north as Cape Tariff, taking the
Dipsey, my submarine boat, in tow. The exploring party, with the
necessary stores and instruments, will embark on the Dipsey, but
before they start they will make a telegraphic connection with