"At the poles of Mercury, in what answers to the polar regions of our own earth, there must be a more tempered climate——"
"Then let us get there, by all means," cut in Popham.
"In whatever we do," answered Quinn, "we must make haste slowly."
"Let's get out and look around, anyhow," cried Meigs. "It may happen, after all, that we have a world to conquer here, and I have not the patience to remain longer in this steel cell of yours."
"Very good," returned the professor. "We will make our preparations and go forth."
He shut off the flow of oxygen from the tank and then followed the rest of us to the under apartment, closing a steel door over the trap at the head of the stairs and locking it. Gilhooly, imagining himself a conductor, was walking around the edge of the circular divan collecting tickets from imaginary passengers.
"Sing Sing!" he called out as the professor unlocked the door at the entrance and pulled it open.
"Here's where you get off, Munn," said Meigs maliciously.
"Here's where we all get off," returned the professor, smiling.
Thereupon we passed hastily into the blinding glare of the Mercurial day. For several minutes our eyes rebelled at the brightness; when finally they became inured to it, we looked around us upon a desolation that struck dismay to our hearts.