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book. But the guy fooled with the wires, so it’s different now. If he fixes the gates before we get back, we’ll be trapped here—forever!”
    It was starting to dawn on me. “So you’re saying if we’re late, if this trip takes more than eighty days—”
    â€œEighty minutes on this watch,” said Frankie.
    â€œâ€”not only will Fogg lose the bet but the zapper gates will get fixed and we’ll be trapped here forever?”
    â€œThat’s what I just said!”
    â€œWhich means—”
    â€œWe stay in 1872!”
    â€œWhere there are no—”
    â€œCheeseburgers or cable!”
    â€œSo then we’ve got to—”
    â€œStop Fix!”
    â€œBefore he—”
    â€œStops us!”
    â€œOr even before!” I cried. “And we have only seventy-three minutes left to do it in!”
    â€œSeventy-three days,” said Fogg calmly as he passed by, striding up the plank. “Seventy-three days.”
    â€œYou see!” whispered Frankie. “Minutes equal days!”
    I shook my head. “This is so very confusing—”
    â€œCome along!” said Passepartout. “They are serving lunch on the ship. And we cannot be late for lunch.”
    I grinned. “Now, that I understand!”
    The whistle blew, and the Mongolia was ready to steam out of the Suez harbor on its way to Bombay. We ran with top speed back to the ship.
    A moment later, we headed out to sea.

Chapter 7
    While the Mongolia traveled down the Red Sea between Egypt and Arabia, Frankie and I strolled the deck, trying to get a handle on our problem.
    â€œLet me get this straight,” I said. “We have to finish going around the world before that techie at the library fixes the gates and closes our escape route, right?”
    Frankie nodded. “Right.”
    â€œBut Detective Fix is trying to stop Mr. Fogg’s trip, so right now he’s our biggest problem.”
    â€œRight,” said Frankie. “And guess what?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œHere comes our biggest problem.”
    The guy with the twirly mustache climbed up the stairs from a lower deck and spotted us.
    â€œHe’s so annoying,” said Frankie. “I bet he’s going to try to weasel some info about Mr. Fogg out of us.”
    â€œIs it bad to throw a book character off a ship?”
    Frankie laughed. “Maybe we can just throw him off the scent. Here he comes.”
    The man twisted the ends of his mustache as he sauntered over. “You are friends of Mr. Fogg, aren’t you?”
    Before I could get a word out, Frankie went straight to the point. “Yes, we are … Detective Fix!”
    â€œDetective?” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean! I work for the shipping company. Really, I do.”
    â€œYeah, right,” I said to myself. Then I had an idea. I pulled out the book and opened it. “Since you work for the shipping company, you probably know all about India, right?”
    â€œOf course!” he said. “I, er, travel to India all the time.”
    â€œWell this book is about India,” I said. Then, winking at Frankie, I said, “They say a great site to visit in India is a place called … Palmdale. What’s it like?”
    â€œPalmdale, eh?” Fix shifted his eyes nervously. “Oh, a beautiful place. Lovely place. Exotic. Full of enchantment, yes …”
    â€œCould you be more specific?” asked Frankie, giving him a cold stare.
    Fix looked away. “Well, Palmdale is full of palms, isn’t it? And dales. It has several of those. Oh, yes, lovely palms and dales. Wait, what’s that? Oh, I think I hear my name being called. I must be going. Good day!”
    He scuttled off nervously.
    â€œWhat a fibber!” I said. “He doesn’t know India!”
    â€œWe’d better keep an eye on the guy.”
    â€œOr four eyes,” I