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have some, anyhow,” declared the German.

“We’ll take a stroll over toward the hills.”

 

They passed through the city, no one offering to stop them. On

every side they observed something new or strange, and they were

particularly struck by the absence of all noise. Everything was

done silently. There were no trolley cars, no wagons or trucks,

no puffing automobiles, and no confusion.

 

The Martians moved noiselessly about, and the sleds, with their

queer motive power, made no sound. They seemed to be the only

vehicles in use, save the boats, and these sleds were of many

sizes, some as large as big trucks.

 

“Do you think it will be safe to leave the projectile so long?”

asked Jack.

 

“I think so,” replied Mr. Roumann. “These people will not

bother with it. In fact, they all seem too busy. I want to get

some of that valuable red stuff.”

 

They kept on, until they found themselves out of the city and

into the country districts. Here there was more water than land,

great canals and lakes being scattered here and there, with

narrow paths or roads winding in and out among them.

 

“It’s always flood time here,” observed Jack. “We must get one

of those boats.”

 

They approached the hills, which seemed to rise out of a great

lake.

 

“There is where the treasure is—in those hills,” said Mr.

Roumann. “They’re not more than a mile off. Let’s hurry there

and get some.”

 

They came to a narrow strip of land connecting two lakes, and as

they were crossing it, there suddenly appeared from a little hut,

about half way over, several Martians, who opposed their

progress.

CHAPTER XXVI

IN PERIL

 

“Well, I wonder if we can’t go any farther?” asked Mr. Roumann,

as he and his companions came to a halt, and noticed that the

little men held what looked like small sticks in their hands.

 

“It seems as if they didn’t want us to,” observed Mr. Henderson.

“Looks as if they were on guard.”

 

“Let me get at ‘em with my gun,” spoke Andy. “I’ll soon show

‘em—”

 

Then he stopped suddenly, as he recalled how useless his firearm

was on Mars.

 

“You’ll have to get some stronger powder, and heavier bullets, to

hunt here, Andy,” said Jack.

 

“I wonder if they have guns?” came from Mark.

 

“They only look like sticks,” said Jack.

 

Mr. Roumann, by signs and motions, indicated that he and his

companions would like to travel along the narrow path to the

hills. The leading Martian, who was dressed like the officer at

the lamp-post, while the others were less elaborately arrayed,

shook his head. His big mouth broke into a smile, however, as if

he wanted to be good-natured about it.

 

“He doesn’t want us to go,” said the professor.

 

“Evidently not, but we’re going just the same,” retorted Mr.

Roumann. “We’re more than a match for twenty of these little

creatures, and there are only ten here. Come on.”

 

“Do you think it will be safe?” inquired Mr. Henderson.

 

“Of course. They can’t harm us.”

 

The German scientist took a step forward. The others were about

to follow him when the leading Martian uttered a command, and his

men pointed their sticks at the travelers.

 

“Look out! Dey’s goin’ t’ shoot!” exclaimed Washington, stooping

down.

 

“They can’t shoot with those things,” declared Mr. Roumann, for

there seemed to be no mechanism about the sticks.

 

They all pressed forward, but to their surprise it was just as if

they had met with an invisible stone wall. They could not

advance a step farther. They were halted by some strange power,

and it appeared to come from the sticks, which the Martians kept

pointed at the strangers.

 

“Why—why! I can’t seem to move!” cried Jack, pushing with all

his might. But, though nothing could be seen in front of him or

the others, they might just as well have tried to push over the

glass castle in the public square.

 

“We can’t go on,” called Mr. Roumann.

 

The Martian officer said something to his men, and they lowered

their wands. Instantly it was as if a stone wall had been taken

down from in front of the world-dwellers. They were able to

advance a few steps, and then, when at a command the wands were

again pointed at them, they had to stop.

 

“It’s those sticks!” cried Jack. “They contain some strange

power. That’s the queerest kind of a policeman’s club I ever

heard of. It would keep back any mob!”

 

Try as they did, they could not pass the invisible barrier, and

they were forced to give it up. Seeing that the strangers

realized that they could not pass, the Martian officer and his

men lowered their sticks. He spoke to the travelers, and, though

they could not understand what he said, it was evident from his

gestures that he was advising them to return to the city.

 

“I think we’d better,” said Mr. Henderson. “The red substance is

too well guarded for us to get any of it. Evidently they don’t

want any of it taken away.”

 

“I must get it!” insisted Mr. Roumann. “If not now, then later.”

 

There was nothing for them to do save turn back, and the Martians

tried to smile pleasantly at them, as if sorry for what they were

obliged to do.

 

“We’ll go back to the projectile,” decided Mr. Henderson. “I am

a little anxious to see that it is all right.”

 

They found that it was, though quite a throng had gathered about

to inspect it.

 

“Are we going to stay here, or go back to the house they let us

have?” asked Mark.

 

“I think we will live in the city,” decided Mr. Roumann. “We can

learn more about the Martians there, begin to understand

something of their language, and be in a better position to get

some of that red stuff, than if we were out here. But we’ll go

inside and see about the crazy man, and also how the machinery

is. I want to fix the motors so that if any one meddles with

them no damage will be done.”

 

It took some little time to adjust the machinery, and then the

travelers took from their supplies some personal belongings,

which they wished to have with them.

 

“Now to see to that crazy machinist,” said Mr. Henderson, when

they were ready to leave the projectile again. “I wish we could

get rid of him. He’s a nuisance.”

 

They went to the storeroom, where he had been confined, but the

man was not there.

 

“He’s hiding again,” declared Jack.

 

“No; he’s got away!” exclaimed Mr. Roumann. “See, the ropes with

which we bound him have been broken. When the Martians came out

to feed him last night they could not have fastened them

securely. Well, he’s gone, and I don’t know but what I’m glad of

it.”

 

But there came a time when they were all very sorry that the

insane man had escaped, for he caused them much trouble.

 

As they left the projectile to go to the house provided for them

in Martopolis, Mr. Roumann took with him several small iron

boxes.

 

“What are those for?” asked Jack.

 

“To put that red stuff in,” replied the scientist.

 

“I am going to make another try for some, but I’ll take a

different road this time.”

 

For a week or more the travelers lived in their house in

Martopolis. They were courteously treated by the Martians, and

soon began to pick up the language, which was very simple when

once the principles of it were understood.

 

Several times the travelers were taken before the Great Council,

as it was called, and asked in regard to matters on the world

they had left. In turn the adventurers learned much about Mars.

Though it was much smaller than our earth, it was superior to it

in many ways. One was the simplicity of life. The Martians

never had any need of clothes, for they were born with fur and

feathers, which were renewed by Nature from time to time. They

had to contend with a large quantity of water, which covered most

of the surface of their planet, but by ingenious means they got

along nearly as well as if there was more land. In science they

were far ahead of scientists of the earth, and they were

fortunate in possessing the red substance, which they called

Cardite, and which was their only source of light, heat and

power. With it they accomplished much that the world-dwellers

have to bring about by great labor.

 

By inquiry, after they had learned the language, the travelers

found out that Cardite was regarded with much reverence, and

there was a tradition that if any of it was taken away from Mars,

the planet would disappear.

 

“No wonder they didn’t want us to get any,” said Mr. Roumann.

“But I’m going to have some, for all that. It’s all nonsense to

think any harm can come from taking it. It will not injure their

planet, and it will be a fortune to us. They must have a lot of

it, for they told us that all the cities on Mars, and there are

several of them, are lighted and heated by it.”

 

“But how are you going to get it.” asked Mark.

 

“By going a different route. I’m going to get a boat, and go by

water. I’ve found out how to run one of their boats by means of

the red substance, and some day we’ll sail over the lake to the

hills and get some Cardite.”

 

They waited another week, and, as they found less and less

attention was paid to them from day to day, they decided to make

an attempt to get some of the treasure.

 

They started one morning in a large boat, which Silex Corundum,

the ruler of Mars, had placed at their disposal, and in a short

time were approaching the distant hills, at the foot of which was

the great lake. The boat moved swiftly, the controlling

mechanism consisting of three little knobs on the outside of the

box containing the Cardite. One sent the craft forward, one

reversed it, and the other stopped it.

 

“We’re almost there,” said Mr. Roumann, after about an hour’s

sail. “There are no guards this way, just as I hoped. We shall

soon be enormously wealthy.”

 

Nearer and nearer came the boat to the hills. When they were

within a half mile of them Jack, who was in the bow, uttered a

cry.

 

“A whirlpool! A whirlpool!” he shouted. “We’re heading right

into it!”

 

Mr. Roumann, who was steering, tried to turn the boat to one

side, but the craft would not answer the helm.

 

“Shut off the power and reverse!” exclaimed Mr. Henderson, when

he saw that the boat was still rushing into the dangerous swirl

of water.

 

Mark, who was near the metal box, did so. But even the power of

Cardite was of no avail against the awful suction of the

whirlpool. The boat began to go around in a great circle, ever

coming nearer and nearer to the black, swirling center.

 

“No wonder they needed no guards on the water side,” gloomily

observed Mr. Roumann as he stood up and looked at the hills.

“The whirlpool is the best protector they could have.”

 

In deadly peril, the adventurers watched their boat coming nearer

and nearer to the terrible center of the angry waters.

CHAPTER XXVII

GETTING THE CARDITE

 

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