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“Two days and a half, Virgillius, my boy; it was an awful strain. I hammered repeatedly upon the door, but I don’t believe you even heard.”

“Two days and a half,” I muttered drowsily, then drank the liquor some one handed to me and without further ceremony dropped off to sleep.

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Saxe. christened his machine Propellier, an aptly chosen name, then rushed into print. He was mobbed by scientific societies, and lectured widely about everything except what his “marvelous invention” was intended for; and it became public wonder to what use this machine was to be put that would butt, crush, and pass over all obstacles.

As he mentioned me continually in connection with the Propellier, we were both much interviewed and written up lengthily.

Cranks clustered around the little house in the suburbs, and almost annoyed the life out of Saxe. with their arrogant demands, and police protection became necessary.

Saxe. was famous and sailed the wave of popularity for about three weeks, and then—well, all waves recede, but this one simply calmed. Saxe. and his invention were not forgotten, because he was wise enough to keep the public guessing. Later, when preparations were progressing rapidly for the one great aim of his life, he in his thankfulness became more communicative, satisfying curiosity, ending all doubts. He lectured before a vast throng of scientists, educators, and students, who wildly applauded him as he divulged the secret of his ambition and the usefulness of his invention. He declared the Pole would never be discovered without the aid of science, and his invention would greatly lessen the many hardships previous explorers suffered (applause). All the tremendous difficulties of Arctic travel would vanish before the terrible force of the Propellier; and he verged nicely into details with deep explanations, and ended he would reach the Pole, then explore the surrounding territory.