Lost on the Moon by Roy Rockwood

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"Let's take after him," suggested Jack, and, nothing loath, Mark
assented. The two lads broke into a run, but, as they leaped forward,
the man also increased his pace, and they could hear his feet pounding
out a tattoo on the hard road.

The two youths reached the bridge, and sped across it. They glanced
hastily on either side, thinking possibly the man might have had some
companions, but no one was in sight, and the stranger himself was now
out of view around a bend in the highway.

"No use going any farther," suggested Jack, pulling up at the far side
of the bridge. "There are two roads around the bend, and we couldn't
tell which one he'd take. Besides, it might not be altogether safe to
risk it."

Mark and Jack, on their return, told Professor Henderson and the German
scientist something of their little excursion.

"But who could he have been?" asked Mr. Roumann. "Perhaps if you ask
the boy who brought the note he can tell you."

"We'll do it in the morning," decided Mark.

"It's peculiar that he wanted Mark to meet him," spoke Amos Henderson.
"Have you any enemies that you know of, Mark?"

"Not a one. But what makes you think this man was an enemy, Professor?"

"From the fact that he ran when he saw you and Jack together. Evidently
he expected to get Mark out alone."

They discussed the matter for some time, and then the boys and the
scientists retired to bed, ready to begin active preparations on the
morrow, for their trip to the moon.

There was much to be done, but their experience in making other
wonderful trips, particularly the one to Mars, stood the travellers in
good stead. They knew just how to go to work.

To Washington was entrusted the task of preparing the food supply,
since he was to act as cook. Andy Sudds was instructed to look after
the clothing and other supplies, except those of a scientific nature,
while the two young men were to act as general helpers to the two
professors.

As the _Annihilator_ has been fully described in the volume entitled,
"Through Space to Mars," there is no need to dwell at any length on the
construction of the projectile in which our friends hoped to travel to
the moon. Sufficient to say that it was a sort of enclosed airship,
capable of travelling through space--that is, air or ether--at enormous
speed, that there were contained within it many complicated machines,
some for operating the projectile, some for offence or defence against
enemies, such as electric guns, apparatus for making air or water, and
scores of scientific instruments.

The _Annihilator_ was controlled either from the engine room, or from a
pilot house forward. As for the motive power it was, for the trip to
the moon, to be of that wonderful Martian substance, Cardite, which
would operate the motors.

The projectile moved through space by the throwing off of waves of
energy, similar to wireless vibrations, from large plates of metal, and
these plates were the invention of Professor Roumann.

Perhaps to some of my readers it may seem strange to speak so casually
of a trip to the moon, but it must be remembered that our friends had
already accomplished a much more difficult journey, namely, that to
Mars. So the moon voyage was not to daunt them.

Mars, as I have said, was thirty-five millions of miles away from the
earth when the _Annihilator_ was headed toward it. To reach the moon,
however, but 252,972 miles, at the most, must be traversed--a little
more than a quarter of a million miles. As the distance from the earth
to the moon varies, being between the figures I have named, and 221,614
miles, with the average distance computed as being 238,840 miles, it
can readily be seen that at no time was the voyage to be considered as
comparing in distance with the one to Mars.

But there were other matters to be taken into consideration, and our
friends began to ponder on them in the days during which they made
their preparations.

CHAPTER IV

AN ACCIDENT

Washington White was kept busy getting together the food for the
voyage, and he had about completed his task, while Andy Sudds announced
one morning that his department was ready for inspection, and that he
thought he would go hunting until the projectile was ready to start.

"Well, if you see anything of that queer man who sent me the note, just
ask him what he meant by it," suggested Mark, for inquiry from the boy
who had brought the message, developed the fact that Dick did not know
the man, nor had he ever seen him before. He was a stranger in the
neighborhood. But, as nothing more resulted from it, the two lads gave
the matter no further thought.

"How soon before we will be ready to start?" asked Jack one day, while
he and his chum, with the two professors, were working over the
projectile, which was soon to be shot through space.

"In about two weeks," replied Mr. Roumann. "I want to make a few
changes in the Cardite plates, which will replace the ones used on the
Etherium motor. Then I want to test them, and, if I find that they work
all right, as I hope, we will seal ourselves up in the _Annihilator_,
and start for the moon."

"Are you going to try to go around it, and land on the side turned away
from us?" asked Mark, who had been studying astronomy lately.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Jack. "Doesn't the moon turn around?"

"Not as the earth does," replied his chum; "or, rather, to be more
exact, it rotates exactly as the earth does, on its axis; but, in doing
this it occupies precisely the same time that it takes to make a
revolution about our planet. So that, in the long run, to quote from my
astronomy, it keeps the same side always toward the earth; and today,
or, to be more correct, each night that the moon is visible, we see the
same face and aspect that Galileo did when he first looked at it
through his telescope, and, unless something happens, the same thing
will continue for thousands of years."

"Then we've never seen the other side of the moon?" asked Jack.

"Never; and that's why I wondered if the professor was going to attempt
to reach it. Perhaps there are people there, and air and water, for it
is practically certain that there is neither moisture nor atmosphere on
this side of Luna."

"Wow! Then maybe we'd better not go," said Jack, with a shiver. "What
will we do, if we get thirsty?"

"Oh, I guess we can manage, with all the apparatus we have, to distill
enough water," said Professor Henderson, with a smile. "Then, too, we
will take plenty with us, and, of course, tanks of oxygen to breathe.
But it will be interesting to see if there are people on the moon."

"If there are any, they must have a queer time," went on Mark.

"Why?" asked Jack, who wasn't very fond of study.

"Why? Because the moon is only about one forty-ninth the size of the
earth. Its diameter is 2,163 miles--only a quarter of the earth's--and,
comparing the force of gravity, ours is much greater. A body that
weighs six pounds on the earth, would weigh only one pound 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 around the
projectile nearly every minute of the day, and whoever it was, must
have watched his chance, slipped in, stayed a few seconds, and then
slipped out again."

They went carefully over the entire projectile, but could find no
further damage done. Nor were there any traces of the person who had so
nearly caused a tragedy. Washington and Andy, after a careful search
outside the shed, had to admit that they had no clews.

"Well, the only thing to do is to go to work and build a new small
motor," announced Professor Roumann, after once more looking over the
_debris_ of the one that had exploded.

"Will it take long?" asked Jack.

"About two weeks. Fortunately, I can use some of the parts of this one,
or we would be delayed longer."

"Still two weeks is quite a while," suggested Mark. "Perhaps there'll
be no diamonds left on the moon when we get there, Jack," and he smiled
jokingly.

"Oh, I fancy there will. The article in the paper from Mars says there
was a whole field of them."

"This brings up another matter," said Professor Henderson. "What will
happen if we bring back bushels and bushels of diamonds?--which, in
view of what the paper says, may be possible. We will swamp the market,
and the value of diamonds will drop."

"Then we must not throw them upon the market," decided Professor
Roumann. "The scarcity of an article determines its value. If we do
find plenty of diamonds, it will give me a chance to conduct some
experiments I have long postponed because of a lack of the precious
stones. We can use them for laboratory purposes, and need not sell
them. In fact, with the Cardite we brought back from Mars, we have no
lack of money, so we really do not need the diamonds."

It was decided, in view of the shock and upset caused by the explosion,
that no further work would be done that day, and so, after carefully
locking the shed, and posting Andy on guard with his gun, the boys and
the professor went into the house to discuss matters, and plan for work
the next day.

"Mark," said Jack in a low voice, as they followed the two scientists,
"I think it's up to us to try to find that mysterious man who sent the
note. I think he did this mean trick!"

"So do I, and we'll have a hunt for him. Let's go now."

CHAPTER VI

ON THE TRACK

The two boys gazed after Professors Henderson and Roumann. The
scientists were deep in a discussion of various technical matters,
which discussion, it was evident, made them oblivious to everything
else.

"Shall we ask them?" inquired Jack in a whisper.

"No; what's the use?" queried Mark. "Let's go off by ourselves, and
perhaps we can discover something. If we could once get on the trail of
the man who wrote the note, I think we could put our hands on the
person responsible for the blowing up of the motor."

"I agree with you. We won't bother them about our plans," and he waved
his hand toward the scientists, who had, by this time, entered the
house.

"In the first place," said Mark, as he and his chum turned from the
yard, and walked along a quiet country road, "I think our best plan
will be to find Dick Johnson, and ask him just where it was he met the
man who gave him a quarter to bring the note to me."

"What for?" asked Jack.

"Why, then, we can tell where to start from. Perhaps Dick can give us a
description of the man, or tell from what direction he came. Then we'll
know how to begin on the trail."

"That's a good idea, I guess. We know where he disappeared to, or,
rather, in nearly what direction, so that will help some."

"Sure. Well, then, let's find Dick."

To the inquiries of the two lads from the projectile, Dick Johnson
replied that, as he had asserted once before, that the man was a
stranger to him.

"He was tall, and had a big black mustache," Dick described, "but he
kept his hat pulled down over his eyes, so I couldn't see his face very
well. Anyhow, it was dark when I met him."

"Where did you meet him?" asked Mark.

"Not far from your house. He was standing on the corner, where you turn
down to go to the woollen mill, and, as I passed him, he asked me if I
wanted to earn a quarter."

"Of course you said you did," suggested Jack.

"Sure," replied Dick. "Then he gave me the note, and told me where to
take it, and I did. That wasn't wrong, was it?"

"No; only there seems to be something queer about the man, and we want
to find out what it is," replied Mark.

"What was the man doing when you saw him?" asked Jack.

"Standing, and sort of looking toward your house."

"Looking toward our house?" repeated Jack. "Was he anywhere near the
big shed where we build the machines?"

"Well, I couldn't say. Maybe he might have been."

"I guess that's all you can tell us," put in Mark, with a glance at his
chum, to warn him not to go too much into details with Dick, for they
did not want it known that some enemy had tried to wreck the
projectile.

"Yes, I can't tell you any more," admitted the small lad.

"Well, here's a quarter for what you did tell us," said Jack, "and if
you see that man again, and he gives you a note for us, just keep your
eye on him, watch where he goes, and tell us. Then you will get a half-
dollar."

"Gee! I'll be on the watch," promised Dick, his eyes shining at the
prospect of so much money.

"Come on," suggested Jack to his chum, after the small chap had
departed. "Let's go down by the white bridge and make some inquiries of
people living in that vicinity. They may have seen a stranger hanging
around, and, perhaps we can get on his trail that way."

"All right," agreed Mark, and they walked on together.

They had gone quite a distance away from the bridge, and had made
several inquiries, but had met with no success, and they were about to
give up and go back home.

"I know one person we haven't inquired of yet," said Mark, as they
tramped along.

"Who's that?"

"Old Bascomb, who lives alone in a shack on the edge of the creek. You
know the old codger who traps muskrats."

"Oh, sure; but I don't believe he'd know anything. If he did, he's so
cranky he wouldn't tell you."

"Maybe he would, if we gave him a little money for some smoking
tobacco. It's worth trying, anyhow. Bascomb goes around a great deal,
and he may have met a strange man in his travels."

"Well, go ahead; we'll ask him."

The muskrat trapper did not prove to be in a very pleasant frame of
mind, but, after Mark had given him a quarter, Bascomb consented to
answer a few questions. The boys told him about looking for a strange
man, describing him as best they could, though they did not tell why
they wanted to find him.

"Wa'al, now, I shouldn't be surprised but what I know the very fellow
you want," said the trapper. "I met him a couple of days back, an' I
think he's still hanging around. Fust I thought he was after some of my
traps, but when I found he wa'ant, I didn't pay no more attention to
him. He looked jest like you say."

"Where was he?" asked Jack eagerly.

"Walkin' along the creek, sort of absent-minded like."

"You don't know where he lives, or whether he is staying in this
vicinity, do you?" inquired Mark.

"Ya'as, I think I do," replied the trapper.

"Where?" cried Jack eagerly.

"Wa'al, you know the old Preakness homestead, down by the bend of the
creek, about four mile below here?"

"Sure we know it," answered Mark. "We used to go in swimming not far
from there."

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