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stop it. It’s only

the secret of the power that he wants to keep.”

 

“I wonder what he wants to go to Mars for, anyhow?”

 

“Well, you know what he said. That he wants to get possession of

some wonderful substance. I guess it is the same stuff that

makes the planet seem red to us.”

 

“What’s he going to do with it?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Wonder what it is?”

 

“I don’t know that, either. Maybe it’s some sort of a mineral,

like radium.”

 

“Radium would be valuable, if he could get that. Maybe that’s what

he’s going after.”

 

“No, I think not. If it was, he wouldn’t be particular about not

telling us. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

 

The following two days were busy ones, as many little adjustments

had to be made to the machine. But at last Mr. Roumann announced

that all was completed.

 

“We will start day after to-morrow,” he said. “All the stores

are in the projectile, I have every thing arranged, and we will

begin our trip Mars.”

 

“Are we going to go up like a balloon, through the roof of the

shed?” asked Jack. “If we we’ll have to take the roof off.”

 

“No, we’ll start out through the great doors,” said the German.

“My plan is to elevate the nose or bow, of the projectile, point

it toward the sky, at a slight angle, by means of propping it up

on blocks. Then we will get in, seal all the openings, and I

will turn on the power, and off we go. We can shoot right through the

big doors at the end of the shed, and no one will know anything

about it, for we will leave the earth so fast that before any one

is aware of our plans we will be out of sight.”

 

“That is a good idea,” commented Mr. Henderson. “Have you boys

put everything in the projectile that you’ll need?”

 

“I guess so,” replied Jack, “though it’s hard to tell what you

really will need on another planet.”

 

“All I want is my gun and some ammunition,” declared Andy Sudds.

“I can get along with that.”

 

“How about you, Washington?” asked Jack.

 

“‘Well, I suah would laik t’ take mah fowls along.”

 

“I don’t see how you can do that very well, Wash,” objected Mr.

Henderson. “We would have to carry food for them, and our space

is very limited at best. I’m afraid you’ll have to get rid of

your chickens.”

 

“Couldn’t I take mah Shanghai rooster?” begged the colored man.

“He’s a fine bird, an’ maybe dem folks on Mars nebber seed a

real rooster. I suah does hate to leab him behind.”

 

“Oh, I guess you could take him,” agreed Mr. Roumann.

 

“I’ll gib him some ob my rations,” promised Washington. “He eats

jest laik white folks, dat Shanghai do. Golly! I’se glad I kin

take him. I’ll go out an’ make a cage.”

 

“What will you I do with the rest of your fowls, Wash?” asked

Mark.

 

“Oh, a feller named Jim Johnson’ll keep ‘em fer me till we gits

back. Jim’s a cousin ob mine.”

 

The next day was spent in jacking up the prow of the projectile

so that it pointed in a slanting direction toward the sky.

 

“Am yo’ aimin’ it right at Mars?” asked the colored man, pausing

in the work of making cage for his rooster.

 

“No; that isn’t necessary,” said Mr. Roumann. “Once it starts

upward, I can steer it in any direction I choose. I can send it

directly toward Mars.”

 

“Hit’s jest like a boat,” observed Washington.

 

“That’s it.”

 

“Well, to-morrow we start,” spoke Jack that night, as they were

gathered in the dining-room of the professor’s house after

supper, discussing the great trip.

 

“And to think that in ten days we’ll be on thirty-five millions

of miles away from the earth!” added Mark.

 

“It’s a mighty long way,” said Andy. “Mebby we’ll never git

back.”

 

“Oh, I guess we will,” declared Jack “We got back all right

from—”

 

His words were interrupted by a breaking of glass. One of the

windows crashed in, and something came through it into the room.

It fell upon the floor—a square, black object.

 

“Dat’s one ob dem bombs!” cried Washington. “Look out,

everybody! It’ll go off!”

 

There was a scramble to get out of the room, Washington falling

down on the threshold. Jack, who was in a corner, behind some

chairs, found his way blocked. This gave him a chance to take a

little longer look at the object that had been thrown through the

window.

 

“That’s not a bomb!” he cried. “It’s something wrapped in black

paper.”

 

The professor, Mark and Mr. Roumann stopped their hurried egress.

They came back and looked at the object. As Jack had said, it

was something tied up in black paper with pink string.

 

“It doesn’t look like a bomb,” observed Mark.

 

“More like a brick,” said Jack, and started toward it.

 

“Maybe it’s an infernal machine,” suggested Mark.

 

Jack hesitated a moment, listened to detect any possible ticking

of some hidden clock mechanism, and then, as no sound came from

the object, he picked it up. Rapidly tearing off the paper, he

disclosed a harmless, red brick.

 

“Some one wanted to scare us,” remarked Andy.

 

“There’s a paper wrapped around the brick—a white paper,” said

Professor Henderson.

 

“So there is,” spoke Jack as he removed it. “There’s writing on

it, too.”

 

He held it up to the light.

 

“It’s a message,” he went on, “and not a very pleasant one,

either.”

 

“Who’s it from?” asked Mr. Roumann.

 

“It’s signed ‘The Crazy Machinist’, Jack, and this is what it

says:”

 

“Beware, I am still after you! I will yet blow you sky-high!”

 

“He threw that in through the window!” cried Mark. “He must be

outside here. Let’s see if we can’t catch him.”

 

“That’s right,” added Jack. “Andy! Washington! Come on!”

 

The boys, followed by the hunter and the man, hurried from the

house.

CHAPTER XIV

OFF FOR MARS

 

It was dark outside, and coming from the lighted room, the

searchers at first could discern nothing. Then, as their eyes

became accustomed to the gloom, they could make out objects with

greater distinctness.

 

A movement in a tree, just outside the broken window, attracted

the attention of Andy.

 

“Here’s something!” he cried.

 

He raised his gun, which he had caught up as he rushed from the

house, and fired high enough in the air, so as not to hurt

whoever was in hiding. The flash of the weapon showed a man in

the act of sliding down the trunk.

 

“Catch him!” cried Jack.

 

They all made a rush for the tree, but the flash of Andy’s gun,

while it revealed the man to them, also had the effect of

momentarily blinding the men and boys. For an instant they could

see nothing, and when the effect of the flash passed away the man

was not in sight in the semi-gloom. They could hear him running

through the underbrush outside of the garden, however, and took

after him.

 

But the crazy machinist, if indeed it was he, got away, and after

a vain search through the garden and about the machine shed, they

all returned to the house, Mr. Roumann and the professor having

joined in the hunt.

 

“What do you suppose he did it for?” asked Mark, when they were

again gathered in the dining-room, examining the strange message.

 

“He wanted to scare us,” suggested Jack.

 

“No, I really think he means to do us an injury,” said Mr.

Roumann. “He has some fancied grievance against us, or he is

being used as a tool by Zeb Forker. Perhaps the man who stole

the plates was with him, and he hoped to get some more during the

confusion. I think we had better take a look at the machine

shop.”

 

They acted on this suggestion, but an examination there showed

that nothing had been disturbed. No one had been in the place.

 

“I’m going to sleep here tonight,” said German scientist. “I’m

not going to take chances at the last moment. I’ll stay here.”

 

“So will I,” decided Andy, and with his gun he mounted guard

outside, while Mr. Roumann made up a bed in the projectile. They

were not disturbed, however, any more that night.

 

“Now for Mars!” cried Jack, as the sun rose the next morning, and

he jumped out of bed. “Hurry up, Mark! One would think you

didn’t care about going!”

 

“Well, I guess I do, but I don’t see what good it does to get up

so early. We aren’t going to start until ten o’clock.”

 

“No; but I couldn’t sleep any longer,” declared Jack. “I’m going

out to take a look at the Annihilator.”

 

He quickly dressed, and was on his way down stairs when there

arose quite a commotion out of the garden. Washington’s voice was

heard crying:

 

“Come back heah, yo’ unregenerated specimen ob a ungrateful

bipedical ornithology! What fo’ yo’ want t’ distress mah

longanimity fo’? Come back heah!”

 

“What’s the matter, Wash?” asked Jack.

 

“Oh, dat Shanghai rooster got away jest as I were shuttin’ him up

in de cage, an’ I’se been runnin’ all ober de garden after him.

‘Pears laik he doan’t want t’ go t’ Mars.”

 

“Wait a minute and I’ll help you,” volunteered Jack. “Come on,

Mark,” he added. “Washington’s pet has got away.”

 

The two boys went below, and, with their aid, the colored man

succeeded in catching the rooster, which, crowing a loud protest,

was shut up in a wooden cage and taken to the shop, ready to be

placed in the projectile.

 

There was little to do at the last moment. Professor Henderson

had arranged for a relative to come and live in the house during

the time of the journey to Mars, and this gentleman arrived about

nine o’clock.

 

Meanwhile, the last of the stores and supplies had been put in

the Annihilator, a final inspection had been given the machinery,

and all the scientific instruments were in place.

 

Washington carried the cage containing his rooster into the

storeroom, where there was a large quantity of provisions,

sufficient to last for a year, in case, after reaching Mars, the

travelers should find on the planet no food which they could cat.

 

There was a plentiful supply of water, and machinery for

distilling more out of the atmosphere. The gas that occupied the

space between what might be termed the two skins of the

projectile had already been pumped in, and nothing remained to,

do but for the adventurers to enter the great airship, as it

might be designated, seal up the ports, turn on the power and

start.

 

Mr. Roumann looked critically to the bracing up of the

Annihilator, to see that it was slanted just right. Then he went

carefully over every inch of the great machine, to make sure that

there were no openings which were not closed. As he reached the

port that communicated with the storeroom, he found it only

partly shut.

 

“Did any one of you open this?” he asked suddenly.

 

“I didn’t,” replied Jack. “Why do you ask?”

 

“Because I was sure I closed and locked it from the inside early

this morning,” was the answer. “Washington, did you open it when

you put your rooster in there?”

 

“No, sah. I went in de inside way. I didn’t

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