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on the moon,

and a man on the moon could jump six times as high as he can on this

earth, and throw a stone six times as far.”

 

“What’s dat?” inquired Washington White quickly, nearly dropping some

packages he was carrying into the projectile. “What was yo’ pleased t’

saggasiate, in remarkin’ concernin’ de untranquility ob the densityness

ob stones jumpin’ ober a man what is six times high?” he asked.

 

“Do you mean what did I say?” asked Mark solemnly.

 

“Dat’s what I done asked yo’,” spoke the colored man gravely.

 

“Well, you didn’t, but perhaps you meant to,” went on the youth, and he

repeated his remarks.

 

“‘Scuse me, I guess I’d better not go on dish yeah trip after all,”

came from Washington.

 

“Why not?” demanded Professor Henderson.

 

“‘Cause I ain’t goin’ t’ no place whar ef yo’ wants t’ take a little

jump yo’ has t’ go six times as far as yo’ does when yo’ is on dis yeah

earth. An’ s’posin’ some ob dem moon men takes a notion t’ throw a

stone at me? Whar’ll I be, when a stone goes six times as far as it

does on heah? No, sah, I ain’t goin’!”

 

“But perhaps there are no men on the moon,” said Mark quickly. “It is

only a theory of astronomers that I’m talking about.”

 

“Oh, only a theory; eh?” asked Washington quickly.

 

“That’s all.”

 

“Oh, if it’s only a theory, den I reckons it’s all right,” came from

the colored man. “I didn’t know it were a theory. Dat makes it all

right. It’s jest in theory, am it, Massa Mark, dat a stone goes six

times as far?”

 

“That’s all.”

 

“Oh, well, den, why didn’t yo’ say so fust, dat it was only a theory? I

don’t mind theories. I—I used t’ eat ‘em boiled an’ roasted befo’ de

wah.” And, with a contented smile on his face, Washington went into the

projectile, to finish stowing things away in his kitchen lockers.

 

The big projectile was housed in the shed where it had been

constructed, and the professor and the boys were working over it there,

carefully guarded from curious eyes, for the German inventor did not

want the secret of his Cardite motor to become known.

 

The work went on from day to day, good progress being made. The boys

were of great assistance, for they were practical mechanics, and had

had considerable experience.

 

“Well, I shall try the Cardite motor to-morrow,” announced Professor

Roumann one night, after a hard day’s work on the projectile.

 

“Do you think it will work?” asked Mr. Henderson.

 

“I think so, yes. My experiments have made me hopeful.”

 

“And if it does work, when can we start?” asked Jack.

 

“Two days later; that is, if everything else is in readiness, the food

and other, supplies on board.”

 

“They are all ready to be stowed away,” said Andy Sudds, who had been

hunting all day.

 

It was an anxious assemblage that gathered inside the big shed the next

day, to watch Professor Roumann try the Cardite motor. Would it work as

well as had the Etherium one? Would it send them along through space at

enormous speed? True, they would not have to travel so far, nor so

fast, but more power would be needed, since, as it was feared no food,

water, nor air could be had on the moon, many more supplies were to be

taken along than on the trip to Mars, and this made the projectile

heavier.

 

“We will test the Cardite in this small motor first,” said Mr. Roumann,

as he pointed to a machine in the projectile used for winding a cable

around a windlass when there was necessity for hauling the Annihilator

about, without sending it into the air.

 

Into the receptacle of the motor, the German professor placed some of

the wonderful red substance he had secured from Mars. Then he closed

the heavy metal box that held it, and, looking about to see if all was

in readiness, he motioned to those watching him that he was about to

shift the lever that would start the motor.

 

“If it works as well as I hope it will,” he said, “it ought to pull the

projectile slowly across the shop—a task that would be impossible in a

motor of this size, if operated by electricity, gasoline, or any other

force at present in use. And, if this small motor will do that, I know

the large ones will send us through space to the moon. All ready, now.”

 

Slowly the professor shoved over the lever, while Jack, Mark and the

others watched him carefully. They were standing back of him, in the

engine room of the projectile.

 

There was a clicking sound as the lever snapped into place. This was

succeeded by a buzzing hum, as the motor began to absorb the great

power from the red substance, which was not unlike radium in its

action. There was a trembling to the great projectile.

 

“She’s moving!” cried Jack.

 

Hardly had he spoken when there was a flash of red fire, a sound as of

a bursting bomb, and everyone was knocked from his feet, over backward,

while Professor Roumann was hurled the entire length of the engine

room.

 

“The Cardite motor has exploded!” cried Mark. “Professor Roumann is

killed!”

CHAPTER V

THE WORK OF AN ENEMY

 

Jack’s first act, on arising from amid a mass of tools, into which he

had been tossed by the explosion, was to run to where Professor Roumann

lay in a semi-conscious condition. An instant later Mark slowly arose,

and made his way to where Professor Henderson was rubbing his forehead

in a dazed fashion.

 

“Are you hurt?” asked Mark, of his aged friend.

 

“I think not,” answered Mr. Henderson slowly, “but I fear Mr. Roumann

is. See to him; I’m all right.”

 

“He’s breathing,” cried Jack, who had bent over the German. “He isn’t

dead, at any rate.”

 

“But he may be, unless he gets attention,” said Professor Henderson.

“Get my medicine chest, Mark, and we’ll see what we can do for him.”

 

Jack had raised the head of the injured man on his arm, and was giving

him some water from a glass. This partially revived the German, and he

opened his eyes. He looked around, into the faces of his friends, as if

scarcely comprehending what had happened, and then, as his gaze

wandered toward the disabled Cardite motor, he exclaimed:

 

“Some enemy has done this! The motor was tampered with. The resistance

block was loosened, and that caused the force of the Cardite to shoot

out at the rear. We must watch out for the work of this enemy!”

 

“Don’t distress yourself about that now,” urged Mr. Henderson. “Are you

badly hurt? Do you need a doctor?”

 

The German slowly drank the rest of the water which Jack gave him, and

then gradually arose to a standing position.

 

“I am all right,” he said faintly, “except that I feel a trifle dizzy.

Something hit me on the head, and the fumes from the Cardite took away

my breath for a moment. I think I shall be all right soon.”

 

“Here is the medicine chest!” exclaimed Mark, coming back into the

engine room. Mr. Henderson poured out some aromatic spirits of ammonia

into a graduated glass, added a little water, and gave it to his

fellow, inventor, who, after drinking it, declared that he felt much

better. There was a cut on his forehead, where a piece of the broken

motor had struck him, but, otherwise, he did not seem injured

externally.

 

As for the boys, they were only stunned, nor was Mr. Henderson more

than momentarily shocked. In a few minutes the German professor was

almost himself again.

 

“We must try to discover who our enemy is,” he said earnestly, as he

looked over the disabled motor. “He might have blown up the whole

projectile by tampering as he did with the machinery. Had I been

testing the large, instead of the small motor, there would have been

nothing left of the Annihilator, or us, either. Who could have done

this? If that crazy machinist is around again–-”

 

“I don’t believe he could get here from Mars,” interrupted Jack, with a

smile.

 

“Hardly,” added Mark.

 

“No, I guess he is still on the Red Planet, so it couldn’t have been

him,” went on Mr. Roumann. “But it was some one.”

 

Jack and Mark at once thought of the odd man who had sent Mark the

note, and then had run away.

 

“Could it have been him?” suggested Jack.

 

“It’s possible,” remarked Professor Henderson. “We must be on our

guard. I wonder if Washington–-”

 

At that moment there sounded a violent pounding on the exterior of the

projectile, and the voice of the colored man could be heard calling:

 

“Am anything de mattah? Andy Sudds an’ I is out heah, an’ we heard

suffin goin’ on in dere. Am anybody hurted?”

 

“It’s all over now, Wash,” replied Jack, for the two boys, and the two

professors, had shut themselves up in the projectile while they

conducted the experiment. Jack opened the door of the Annihilator

and stepped out, being met by the colored man and the old hunter.

 

“You haven’t seen any suspicious characters around, have you, Wash?”

asked Mark. “Some one has been tampering with a motor, and it

exploded.”

 

“Nobody’s been around since I’ve been here,” announced Andy Sudds, with

a significant glance at his gun.

 

“Maybe it’s some ob dem moon-men, what don’t laik de idea ob us goin’

dere arter dere diamonds,” volunteered the colored man.

 

“Perhaps,” admitted Jack, with a smile. “But certainly some one has

been around here who had no business to be, and we must find out who it

was. Better take a look around, Wash.”

 

“I’ll help him,” said Andy, and, with his rifle in readiness for any

intruders, the old hunter followed the colored man outside the big

shed.

 

Meanwhile Professor Roumann and Mr. Henderson were carefully examining

the exploded motor.

 

“I should have looked at the breech plug before turning on the power,”

said the German, “but I had no reason to suspect that anything was

wrong.” He went on to explain that the explosion was something like

that which occurs when the breech-block of a big navy gun is not

properly in place. The force of the Cardite, instead of being directed

against the piston-heads of the motor, shot out backward, and almost

into the face of the professor, who was operating the machine.

 

“But what could be their object?” asked Mark. “Who would want to injure

us, or damage the projectile?”

 

“Some enemy, of course,” declared Jack. “But who? The crazy machinist

is out of it, and as for that man who sent the note to you, he seemed

too big a coward to attempt anything like this.”

 

“Some one evidently sneaked in here and loosened the breech-plug,” went

on Mark, “and it was evidently done with the idea of delaying us. The

enemy could not have desired to utterly disable the projectile, or else

he would have tampered with the large motor, instead of the small one.”

 

“Yes, the object seems to have been to delay us,” admitted Professor

Henderson; “yet, I can’t understand why. Whoever did it evidently knows

something about machinery.”

 

“I hope they did not discover the secret of my Cardite motor,” said

Professor Roumann quickly.

 

“They hardly had time,” declared Mark. “We have been in or

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