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they were to retire. “I’d jest like

to git back t’ mah kitchen. I jest know mah Shanghai rooster

needs some corn, an’ as for dat crazy man, maybe he’s broken

loose.”

 

“That’s so,” agreed Mr. Roumann. “If we don’t get back, we can’t

give him anything to eat.”

 

“Let’s try to make them understand,” suggested the professor,

and, accordingly, with chalk, they pictured that they had left

behind them, in the projectile, an enemy of theirs, who was bound

and helpless. Silex Corundum appeared to understand, and he

indicated that the unfortunate man would receive attention.

 

The travelers were then led out of the palace. They found

instead of being urged along by the thought power, however, that

they were now allowed to walk. And they also noticed that they

could go very rapidly, with little exertion, due to the fact that

they only tipped the scales at about a third of their usual

weight.

 

“This is better,” observed Jack. “I’d rather walk than be

floating along the way we were.”

 

“Yes, I guess they were so anxious to question us that they

couldn’t wait for the ordinary forms of locomotion,” said the

professor. “Now that they know something about us they will let

us do as we please for a while.”

 

One of the Martians, who seemed to be a minor official, led them

out into the street. They found that it was lighted by means of

the same metal boxes that were in the palace.

 

Overhead were the two tiny moons of Mars, but they gave but

little light, and had it not been for the wonderful red substance

the streets would have been quite dark.

 

“This stuff is what makes Mars seem so I red when we look at it

with telescopes from our earth,” observed Mr. Roumann. “It is a

very marvelous chemical. I must get some to examine.”

 

“I wonder where they’ll put us?” asked Jack, but his question was

answered a few moments later, when they were ushered into a

finely built house of generous size, and by signs their guide

indicated that they were to make this their home. It was nicely

furnished, though in a different manner from houses in the world,

and there were many scientific books and instruments in it.

 

“The Martians must study all the while,” observed Mr. Henderson.

“No wonder they have such big heads. All their intellectual

faculties are wonderfully developed.”

 

“At the expense of their arms, legs and bodies,” said Jack. “I

fancy I could fight half a dozen of their biggest men.”

 

“But we’re not going to,” said Mr. Roumann. “At least, not as

long as they treat us decently.”

 

“And now for something to eat,” added Henderson.

 

Their guide showed them a dining-room, where they found a table

filled with food that looked very appetizing. The Martian

motioned for them to eat.

 

“I want t’ find where mah kitchen is goin’ t’ be,” declared

Washington. “If I’m goin’ t’ cook heah, I want t’ see how I’m

goin’ t’ do it.”

 

The Martian seemed to understand what was wanted, for he led the

way to another apartment, where it was evident that cooking was

done, as there were pots, pans and what looked like a stove in

it.

 

“But I don’t see no coal,” objected the colored man. “How I

gwine t’ cook without coal t’ make a fire?”

 

The Martian opened the square iron box that seemed to be the

stove. Inside was a small metal box, which he also opened,

disclosing a lump of the red substance.

 

“They cook with it, too!” exclaimed Mr. Roumann. “And I have no

doubt that they warm their houses with it in winter. A wonderful

substance—most marvelous! It exceeds my wildest dreams—light,

heat and power! Our fortunes are made! It is good that we came

to Mars!”

 

“And it’s a good thing they’ve got something to eat!” remarked

Jack. “Come on, I’m half starved.”

 

“I’ll wait on table fo’ yo’,” said Washington, as they went back

to the dining-room, and the Martian left. They sat down, and the

colored man was about to pass the victuals, when, to the surprise

of all, the center of the table began to revolve, and the dishes

of food went with it, passing slowly in front of each one in

turn.

 

“Good land a’ massy!” cried Washington. “It’s bewitched! Look at

de table movin’!”

CHAPTER XXV

SEEKING THE TREASURE

 

They all stared at the strange sight. It was rather odd to see

the entire middle portion of the table going around, while the

outer part, at which the adventurers sat, was stationary. But

the boys and men, with the exception of Washington, recognized it

as very convenient.

 

“What are you frightened at, Wash?” asked Jack.

 

“At dat table, dat’s what! It’s a ghostest table.”

 

“A ghost table?”

 

“Yep! Spirits am workin’ on it! I ain’t goin’ t’ stay heah.

I’se goin’ back t’ de ship, where I kin move t’ings fo’ mahself.”

 

“Don’t be alarmed,” said Mr. Henderson. “It’s all right,

Washington. The table moves by some hidden mechanism, which

doubtless was set in motion by the Martian who were just here, or

the mere sitting down to our places may have started it.”

 

They all got up to make an examination, and the table center at

once ceased revolving, proving that some, connection existed

between it and the chairs. But they could not discover the

machinery. There was a small metal box underneath the table, but

that was all.

 

“That must contain some of that marvelous red substance which

gives light, heat and power,” declared Mr. Roumann. “I must

certainly get a supply of it. In fact, that is what I came to

Mars for. That is the object of my trip, and if we can get a

sufficient quantity of it, our fortunes are made.”

 

“Is it so valuable?” asked Mark.

 

“It is the most valuable treasure in the universe,” replied the

German. “Long ago I suspected some such thing must exist on

Mars, or else how, receiving only half the light and heat from

the sun that we receive, can the inhabitants exist? And that

they do live, and live well, we have seen. It must be due to the

red substance, and if we could only get some back to earth it

would be worth millions. Think of simply putting a bit of it in

a stove and having heat, or hanging up some in a room and getting

light from it. But, more than this, think of having it move

machinery, I would not be surprised but what I could transform

it into energy that would operate the motors of the Annihilator.”

 

“But wouldn’t you need a new supply every once in a while?” asked

Jack.

 

“I think not. I believe it is like radium, and will last

forever. In fact, you notice that the metal boxes it is

contained in, except the ones in the boats, are securely sealed.

If they had to be putting in a fresh supply every so often, they

would make the boxes so they would open more easily. We must get

some of that treasure.”

 

“But how?” inquired Mr. Henderson.

 

“I don’t know, but I will find out a way. When we have been here

a few weeks we will be better acquainted with the Martians and

their language, and can make a search.”

 

“Well, if you folks is done talkin’ about treasure, I’m goin’ to

eat,” observed old Andy. “I’m hungry!”

 

“So am I,” added Jack, and as they all sat down again the table

began revolving. They found it a convenient arrangement once the

novelty had worn off, and they were soon eagerly talking, over

the meal, of the wonders they had seen, and speculating on what

might be before them. Washington, having nothing to do, went to

see about beds for the night, as the travelers were tired.

 

“Well, Wash,” asked Jack, as the colored man returned, “did you

find the beds making themselves, or waltzing around the room?”

 

“Nope, dey seemed t’ be ordinary, respectable beds. But I ain’t

goin’ t’ take no chances in ‘em. I’se goin’ t’ sleep on de flo’.”

 

“Why?”

 

“‘Cause I don’t want t’ wake up in de middle ob de night an’

find mahself squashed inter a jellyfish. I believe de beds am

bewitched same as de table is.”

 

“Nonsense,” said Jack. “They’re all right. This is a fine

place to live.”

 

They found the beds good to sleep in, and nothing disturbed them.

Washington, however, stretched out on the floor, and he arose

early to prepare breakfast on the stove, which never needed to

have a fire built in it, because of the marvelous red substance.

By an arrangement of levers and valves the heat could be

increased or diminished at pleasure.

 

The same Martian who had conducted the travelers to the house

returned soon after breakfast, and by signs and motions indicated

to them that the crazy machinist left in the projectile had been

properly cared for. The Martian also indicated to the world-dwellers

that they were free to go where they pleased about the city, which

they learned was called Martopolis, and was the largest city on the

planet.

 

“We’ll take a walk,” suggested Mr. Roumann, “and maybe we can

find where they keep the red stuff, or where they get it from.”

 

They strolled about the streets of Martopolis, noting many

strange sights. The queer little people were hurrying to and

fro, with a peculiar gliding motion, much faster than the

ordinary walk, yet it was not a run. The peculiar lightness in

weight of everything on Mars probably accounted for this, as the

travelers themselves found they could move about very swiftly,

and with little fatigue.

 

Nor did the world-dwellers attract as much attention as they

expected they would. The Martians appeared to have satisfied

their curiosity regarding the strangers the previous night, and

now gave them but passing glances. Even the boys did not follow

them.

 

Every one seemed to be busy, and the travelers noted many

schools, in which the children were industriously studying,

though it was early morning. Observatories, with great

telescopes, were numerous, and astronomers were gazing at the sun

or different parts of the heavens, even in daylight.

 

“They are a very learned people, and they never seem to cease

from acquiring information,” commented Mr. Henderson.

 

“Well, I’d like to acquire some information about where that red

stuff is,” said the German. “There is one of the metal boxes

that contain some, up on that pole.”

 

He pointed to one that evidently served as a street lamp at

night.

 

“And there’s a policeman near it,” said Jack. “Ask him.”

 

A Martian stood leaning against the light-pole, much as does an

officer of the law on earth. That he was some sort of an

official was evidenced by the uniform he wore.

 

Mr. Roumann approached the Martian, and made signs that he would

like to see the light box. The officer shook his head vigorously,

and said something rapidly.

 

“I guess they don’t allow strangers to touch it,” observed Jack.

 

“Evidently not,” admitted Mr. Roumann. “I wonder if he knows

where it comes from?”

 

He made more signs, asking, as well as he could, where the

substance in the box was obtained. The officer pointed to the

distant hills, but again shook his head in protest, and spoke for

tome time very earnestly, as if warning his questioner not to

venture after it.

 

“Guess they must guard it pretty closely,” said Mark.

 

“Well, I’m going to

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