Through Space to Mars, Roy Rockwood [e book reader pdf txt] 📗
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we saw two men running away from the shop, and we found Mr.
Roumann senseless.”
Professor Henderson bent over, and placed his hand on the heart
of his friend.
“I’m afraid he’s dying,” he said.
“Dying?” cried jack in dismay.
“Yes; and if he expires, the secret of the wonderful power will
die with him. We will never be able to get to Mars!”
The professor placed his ear against the breast of the unconscious
man.
“There is still a spark of life,” he remarked. “Perhaps I can
save him. I will try my electric remedy.”
He got up and hurried to the house. Mr. Henderson had invented a
number of medical appliances, not the least of which was an
affair, different from an electric battery in that it allowed a
current to be administered internally. It was this that he now
decided to try on the unfortunate German.
He came back in less than a minute with a curious machine. It
was shaped like a box, but on the outside had a number of shiny
knobs, and several wires ending in brass handles.
Professor Henderson placed a brass handle in each of the palms of
the German, directing Mark and jack to hold them there. Then he
placed several of the shining knobs at the back of his head, and
ran a long wire around his waist.
“Now, Andy,” ordered the inventor, “if you will take hold of this
rod and place the end of it on his tongue when I open his mouth,
I think we may be able to revive him.”
This was done, and Mr. Henderson turned on the current. There
was a buzzing sound from the box, and a slight tremor was visible
throughout the whole body of the unconscious man.
“It is beginning to work!” exclaimed the professor. “He is
coming to!”
Mr. Roumann opened his eyes.
“Take the rod from his tongue, Andy,” directed Mr. Henderson.
The hunter did so, and the German, looking curiously about him,
asked:
“Is the projectile damaged?”
“It doesn’t seem to be,” replied Jack quickly.
“Are you much hurt?” asked the professor.
Mr. Roumann passed his hand slowly across his head.
“I feel rather strange here,” he said. “There seems to be some
injury.”
Mark silently pointed to the cut. Mr. Henderson quickly examined
it.
“The skull is not injured,” he announced. “It is merely a scalp
wound. Wait a moment now and I will give you something to make
you feel better.”
From a small pocket case he took a spoon and a bottle. He poured
out a strong-smelling liquid, and administered a few drops to the
German. The latter’s pale face at once became flushed.
“I think you will be all right now,” said Mr. Henderson. “But it
was a narrow escape. Do you feel well enough to let us take you
to the house?”
“I think so. But guard the shop well. That crazy machinist came
back, and some one was with him. Then came an explosion—and I
don’t remember any more.”
“I’ll guard the place!” exclaimed Andy. “And if any of those
chaps come around—well, they’ll wish they hadn’t,” and he looked
significantly at his gun.
Mr. Roumann was getting better every moment, and was soon able to
stand. He was assisted to the house, where Mr. Henderson
attended to the injury on his head.
Then, after some more medicine had been administered, and the
electric remedy had been applied again, the German announced that
he felt almost as good as ever, except for an aching head.
“How did it all happen?” asked Mr. Henderson, and Jack and Mark
told what they knew of the explosion.
“I was working over an extra air-pump that I wish to take along
with us,” stated Mr. Roumann, “when I was startled by seeing two
strangers standing near my work bench. One I recognized as the
insane machinist who was here before. The other—”
“The other was the same one who looked in the window one night,
and who, I believe, stole the power plates,” interrupted Jack.
“I wish I had known that,” went on Mr. Roumann. “I would have
made him give them back. But I did not have time to do anything.
Before I could stop him the crazy machinist had thrown something
at me, which I now know must have been a bomb. Then came the
explosion, and knew nothing more until you revived me. Is the
place much wrecked?”
“I think not,” answered Jack.
“We will go look in a little while; just as soon as we see that
you are all right,” announced the professor.
“Oh, I am all right. Go now. I am anxious to know.”
Having assured himself that the German was able to walk to the
shop, Mr. Henderson an assent, and the two boys, Washington and
two scientists started for the place where Annihilator was kept.
“How did you happen to see it, Washington?” asked Mark.
“I was out fixin’ a loose board on mah chicken coop,” explained
the colored man, “when I seen dem two rapscallions come runnin’
out ob de place. I knowed dey hadn’t no right dere, an’ I
hollered at ‘em. But dey didn’t stop, an’ de nextest t’ing I
knowed dere was a big bang. I run in, an’ I seed Mistah Roumann
all blowed to pieces.”
“Hardly as bad as that,” said the German with a smile.
“Well, almost,” insisted Washington.
They reached the machine shop. The smoke had all cleared away,
but the fumes from the bomb were still noticeable.
“I wonder what their object could have been?” said Jack.
“I believe they are urged on by some of my enemies,” was the
German’s reply. “But let us see what damage has been done. I
hope it is not much.”
Pieces of broken machinery, twisted wheels, bent levers,
shattered cogs and smashed plates were all about one corner of
the shop. But the great projectile was still in place. It had
not even been jarred.
Mr. Roumann went to an opening in the side that led to the
engine-room. No sooner had he entered than he uttered a cry.
“The Etherium motor is damaged!” he exclaimed, and with fear in
their hearts the others followed him inside the Annihilator.
AN ALARMING THREAT
The main machines in the engine-room were the two motors, one
designed to send the projectile through the atmosphere, the other
intended to propel it through the space filled with what is
called ether.
It was to these two massive machines that the eyes of all were
now directed. The smaller one, the atmospheric motor, did not
appear to have been damaged, but several wheels and pipes of the
other were broken and twisted.
“Is it ruined?” asked Professor Henderson.
Mr. Roumann was anxiously looking at the apparatus to see what
damage had been done by the bomb.
“Can’t we go to Mars?” inquired Jack.
“I think so,” was the reassuring reply of the scientist. “It is
not damaged so much as I feared. The wheels and pipes are easily
replaced, and as long as the generator and the distributing
plates are not disturbed, I can easily repair the rest. But it
was a fortunate chance that the bomb did not explode nearer the
projectile. Otherwise we would have had to give up our journey.”
“And we would have had to if you had been killed,” remarked the
professor. “I thought the secret of the power was going to die
with you!”
“It will,” replied Mr. Roumann, “but not just yet. I shall never
disclose the source of the power until I reach Mars, get what I
am after, and come back. Then I may bequeath it to you,
Professor Henderson, in return for the kindness of yourself and
your young assistants.”
“I will appreciate that. But you had better go to the house now
and let me doctor you up.”
“No, I feel well. I want to get right to work repairing the
damage. It will delay us several days, but we cannot avoid it.
I wish I could catch the men responsible for this outrage.”
“Have you any idea who they were?”
“No; but I suspect they were in the enemy of mine. A man who
used to work for me, but whom I discharged because of dishonetesty.
His name was Zeb Forker.”
“One of the men who threw the bomb was same one who was at the
window one night,” said Mark. “Do you suppose he could be
Forker, Mr. Roumann?”
“No, I do not believe so. But we will not discuss that now. I
fancy the men will not bother us again.”
“I’ll tell Andy to keep a better watch,” said Mr. Henderson.
“And we’ll help him,” added Mark. “There is little for us to do
on the projectile now, and we can do guard duty, Jack and I
together.”
It took Mr. Roumann several days to repair the damage done to the
Etherium motor by the bomb. During that time Andy and the boys
were constantly on guard about the shop, but the crazy machinist
and his companion did not return.
Washington White agreed to stand guard part of one night, and, as
the others were tired, they agreed to it. But a fox or some
animal got in among the colored man’s chickens, and at the first
sound of alarm from his favorite fowls, Washington deserted his
post and rushed for the coop. Jack, who was awakened by the
noise, looked out of the window.
“It is some one trying to get in, Wash?” he asked.
“Dat’s what, Massa Jack.”
Jack awakened Mark, and the two hurried down with their guns.
They found the colored maw making a circuit of his coop.
“I thought you said some one was trying to get in,” observed
Jack.
“So dey was, Massa Jack. I done heard de most, tremendousness
conglomeration of disturbances in de direction ob my domesticoryian
orinthological specimens, an’ I runned ober to see what it were.”
“You mean that something was after your chickens?” asked Mark.
“Dat’s de impression I done endeavored to prognostigate to yo’,
but seems laik I ain’t understood,” replied Washington with an
injured air.
“Oh, I understand you, all right,” said Jack, “but I thought you
meant some one was gettin in the machine shop.”
“No, dere ain’t been no one dere, but I was skeered dat somebody
was after mah chickens, but I guess it were only a rat. I’ll go
back an stay on guard now.”
“No, you’d better go to bed,” decided Jack. “Mark and I will
finish out the night.”
“All right,” agreed Washington, who, to tell the truth, was getting
sleepy.
There were no further disturbances, and Mark and Jack found their
tour of duty rather lonesome.
“Well, I suppose we’ll start in a day or so,” marked Jack, as
they paced about the big shed which housed the great projectile.
“Yes. The motor seems to be in good working order again. But
say, I’ve just thought of something.”
“What?”
“Suppose something should happen to Mr. Roumann or to the motor
while we were half way to Mars? I mean, suppose he should die,
why, we wouldn’t know how to stop the motor, and we might keep on
going forever.”
“Oh, I guess he’ll tell the professor enough about it so that in
case anything happened we could start it or
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