I don't suppose there are half-a-dozen in use in all the world, and yet here is one of them doing its full duty up here in the Labrador wilderness, a thousand miles from anywhere.

It is fully equal to any tale of the Arabian Nights, and Mr.Homolupus must, as the natives say, be either a god or a devil.

I do wonder who he is, where he came from, what has happened to him, where he gets his electricity, and a thousand other things.

I wish he would wake up, and I wish he could talk." Cabot's curiosity concerning the weird music that had drawn him to that place had been partially satisfied by the discovery of a violin on the floor beside the sick man's bed.

Now, as he flung himself wearily down on the lounge for a bit of rest, he became conscious of the muffled b-r-r-r of a dynamo.