"What's that you said, Rastus?" inquired the professor, as they began to thread their way among the piles of stones, each of which marked a nest.
"Ah said de perfusser am a wonderful man wid his fleas and other scientificnesses," rejoined the colored man.
"Ah, Rastus," cried the professor, highly flattered; "if I can only catch the fur-bearing pollywog, then I shall, indeed, have some claim on fortune and fame, till then—let us hunt penguin eggs."
In the meantime the boys were busy examining the motor. They found that the specially prepared oil worked perfectly and that, although it changed color in the low temperature, it showed no disposition to freeze. The gasolene, too, was successfully kept at the right temperature by means of the vacuum casing of the tank.
"We could go to the pole itself in this motor-sledge," cried Billy, enthusiastically.
"How would we pass the mountains?" asked Frank, pointing to the south, where stood the snowy sentinels guarding the mystery of the Antarctic.
"That's so," agreed Billy, hurriedly. "That's a job for the Golden
Eagle."
"And she's going to do it, too," rejoined Frank, earnestly. "That is if it is humanly possible."
"You bet she is," began Harry, enthusiastically.
"Hullo, what's happened to the professor now?" he broke off.