LITMIR.BIZ

CHAPTER IV.

       Table of Contents

      Mrs. Jones Dictates Terms.

      Several months have passed since the meeting recorded in our last chapter. The enthusiasm of the three men (for Marsh was now a member of the company) increased as the days went by. A considerable amount of canvassing had been done among the moneyed men of the community, but with no success. No one could be found who was willing to risk any considerable amount of wealth in an enterprise whose outcome was so problematical. Fame is all well enough, but there is very little sentiment about capital.

      After many consultations by the three, it was agreed that nothing further could be done at home, and the next move would be a trip to Washington. The idea of building a model was abandoned, as the beautiful drawings and paintings of the architect completely obviated its necessity.

      The Doctor had said but little to Mrs. Jones upon the subject that lay nearest his heart since the time recorded in our last chapter. Though he went about his professional duties as usual, yet that astute little lady thoroughly understood that he was far from laying aside this great ambition of his life. And she also realized that a crisis was approaching when quick, sharp work must be done, and she had determined what she should do.

      The Doctor, meantime, furtively watched day by day the lovely face of his wife. But he might as well have spent the same time studying the face of the Sphynx. He could not decide whether she was acting a part most beautifully, or had dropped the matter as settled. It cost her a great struggle to keep from smiling as she looked into his troubled eyes, and at times would be obliged to put her handkerchief to her mouth to keep back the smiles that dimpled about its corners. She knew that the crisis was at hand, and so persevered in her part; and, better than all, she knew that she should come off victor.

      All things were ripe for the assault upon the Government board of science.

      "Meet at my house to-night, gentlemen," said the Doctor. "My arrangements are all made, and I could start to-morrow morning if my wife would consent. I feel more concerned about getting her acquiescence than I do about getting the Government interested. I really fear that she is like Sambo's mule: 'When he so quiet an' still like, yo' look out! He templatin' trouble den, shuah!' There's something up, and I must have it out with her to-night; and I want you to stand in and say all you can to help me out. We must convince her that there is not nearly so much danger in our globe as there is aboard a train of cars or a steamship."

      So that evening in the dining-room, and upon the same table, Marsh spread the drawings and specifications that represented the smallest detail connected with the construction of the globe. Mrs. Jones entered into the conversation, made suggestions as to the furnishing of food, bedding, furniture, etc., until the three men winked and grinned slyly at one another, delighted to see the interest she displayed.

      "Now, Maggie, I am sure that you cannot see any element of danger in this trip," said the Doctor, fixing his eyes upon her very anxiously. To his surprise and delight she unhesitatingly said:

      "No, I do not see why it should be at all dangerous."

      "That's my brave little wife!" shouted Dr. Jones, catching her in his arms and kissing her upon both cheeks. "What an old lunkhead I have been all this time! Why, Maggie, do you know that I have been terribly worried lest you should prove foolish and obstinate and would do all you could to prevent my going?"

      "I knew it all the time," she replied.

      "Just listen to the demure little sinner! Knew that I was worrying all this time and never let me see that she understood me at all! What a little hypocrite you are! But I forgive you, since you are so reasonable."

      "But my dear hubby, do not jump at conclusions. There is a condition connected with my consent."

      "And it is granted now, my dear. What is it?"

      "Oh, it is a real easy one!"

      "I am sure of that, dear Maggie, for you are the most reasonable woman alive. Isn't she, gentlemen?"

      Of course the conspirators loudly assented.

      "That is very nice of you, gentlemen," said she, bowing gracefully to them, "but I know about how much allowance to make for 'soft soap' in this case."

      "But what is the condition, Maggie?" asked Dr. Jones.

      "I go with you."

      "To Washington? Certainly you shall, honey."

      "I go with you in the globe, to the North Pole, or any other place the wind may blow us."

      "You—what!"

      "I have said it."

      The Doctor dropped into a chair with a groan. "I knew it! I knew she meant mischief all the time."

      "But my dear woman," cried he, jumping from his chair again, "don't you see the utter impossibility of your going on so hard and perilous a voyage? You could never endure it in the world."

      "Hardships and perils, indeed!" said she mischievously. "Haven't you said over and over in my presence that this was simply a beautiful picnic trip and perfectly safe?"

      "Well—er—er," stammered the Doctor, "but, Maggie, it would be no place for a woman, you know."

      "I beg your pardon, sir, but I do not know anything of the kind. Do you suppose that I have sat here all these months listening to you men talk of this scheme without becoming a convert to your theories? No, Doctor, I am as enthusiastic as any of you in this matter. The North Pole fever is like the measles, very contagious, and I have a severe attack of it. Now you have all agreed that I am the most reasonable woman living, and you cannot accuse me of being unreasonable simply because I wish to go with you on this safe, comfortable and perfectly beautiful picnic excursion."

      This turn of affairs was so complete a surprise to the three men that they sat silent with consternation for a few moments.

      "Come to think of it, gentlemen, I am pleased for one that Mrs. Jones wishes to accompany us. Why should she not?" said Marsh.

      Mrs. Jones beamed upon him so warmly that he blushed to his ears.

      "One vote for me," she gayly exclaimed. "Now, Mr. Denison, on the score of old friendship, I claim your franchise."

      "And

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