THE SHANGHAI MAKES TROUBLE
Remaining in the engine room long enough to see that all the motors and
apparatus were working smoothly, Professor Henderson made his way to
the pilot house forward, where Mark and Jack were in charge of the
steering gears. The projectile could be started and stopped from there,
as well as from the engine room, once the motor was set going.
"Well, boys, how does it feel to be in space once more?" asked the
scientist.
"Fine," answered Mark. "But while I was shut up in that old house I
feared I'd never have this chance again."
"It seems like old times again, to be flying through space," remarked
Jack. "My! but we aren't making half the speed of which the projectile
is capable. Why, we're only going about twenty miles a second," and he
spoke as if that was a mere nothing.
"Twenty miles is some speed," observed Mark.
"The earth goes around the sun at the rate of nineteen miles a second,
or about seventy-five times as fast as the swiftest cannon-ball, so you
see, Jack, you are 'going some,' as the boys say."
"Yes, but we went much faster when we went to Mars. Still, no matter
how fast we travel, you'd never realize it inside here."
This was true. So well balanced was the projectile, and so delicately
poised was the machinery, that the terrifically fast rate of travel,
rivalling that of the earth, was no more noticed than we, on this
globe, notice our pace of nineteen miles a second around the sun.
"Everything seems to be all right," observed Professor Henderson, as he
looked out of the plate-glass window of the pilot house into a sea of
rolling mist, which represented the ether, for they had soon passed
through the atmosphere of the earth, which scientists estimate to be
two hundred miles in thickness.
"Are we going to move any faster than this?" asked Jack, who seemed
possessed of a speed mania.
"Not right away," replied Mr. Henderson. "Professor Roumann wants to
thoroughly test the Cardite motor first. Then, when he finds that it
works all right, we may go faster. But we will be at the moon soon
enough as it is. It is time we headed more directly on our proper way,
though, so I think I will ask Mr. Roumann to step here and aid me in
getting the projectile on the right course. You boys had better remain
also and learn how it is done. You may need to know some time."
"I'll call the professor here, if he can leave the engine room," said
Mark, and he found the German bending over some complicated apparatus.
The scientist announced that the machines would run themselves
automatically for a while, so he accompanied the lad back to the
pilot-house.
There, consulting big charts of the heavens, and by making some
intricate calculations, which the boys partly understood, the German
and Mr. Henderson were able to locate the exact position of the moon,
though that body was not then in sight, being behind the earth.
"That ought to bring us there inside of a week," announced Mr.
Henderson, as he fastened the automatic steering apparatus in place.
"The projectile will now be held on a straight course, and I hope we
shall not have to change it."
"Could anything cause us to swerve to one side?" asked Jack.
"Sure," replied Mark. "Don't you remember how, in the trip to Mars, we
nearly collided with the comet? If we are in danger of hitting another
one of those things, or even a meteor, we'll steer out of the way,
won't we?"
"Of course. I forgot about that," admitted Jack.
"Yes," declared Professor Roumann, "we'll have to be on the lookout for
wandering meteors or other stray heavenly bodies. But our instruments
will give us timely warning of them. Now, I think we can leave the
projectile to herself while I make sure that all the machinery is
running smoothly. You boys may stay here if you like, though there
isn't much to see."
There wasn't. It was totally unlike taking a trip on earth, where the
ever-varying scenery makes a journey pleasant. There was no landscape
to greet the eye now. It was even unlike a trip in a balloon, for in
that sort of air-craft, at least for a time, a glimpse of the earth can
be had. Now there was nothing but a white blanket of mist to be seen,
which rolled this way and that. Occasionally it was dispelled, and the
full, golden sunlight bathed the projectile. The earth had long since
dropped out of sight, for it required only a few seconds to put the
_Annihilator_ high up in a position where even the most intrepid
balloonist had never ventured.
Mark and Jack sat for a few minutes in the pilot-house, looking out
into the ether. But they soon tired of seeing absolutely nothing.
"I wonder what we'll do when we get to the moon?" asked Jack of his
chum.
"Why, I suppose you'll make a dive for a hatful of diamonds, won't you?
That is, if you still believe that Martian newspaper account."
"I sure do."
The boys found the two professors busy adjusting some of the delicate
scientific instruments with which they expected to make observations on
the trip, and after they reached the moon.
"What is your opinion, Professor Roumann, of the temperature at the
moon's surface?" asked Mr. Henderson.
"I am in two minds about it," was the reply. "A few years ago, I see by
an astronomy, Lord Rosse inferred from his observations that the
temperature rose at its maximum (or about three days after full moon)
far above that of boiling water."
"Boiling water!" ejaculated Mark. "Wow! That won't be very nice. I
don't want to be boiled like a lobster!"
"Wait a moment," cautioned Mr. Roumann, with a smile. "Later, Lord
Rosse's own investigations, and those of Langley, threw some doubts on
this. There is said to be no air blanket about the moon, as there is
about the earth, so that the moon loses heat as fast as it receives it;
and it now seems more probable that the temperature never rises above
the freezing point of water, just as is the case on our highest
mountains."
"That's better," came from Jack. "We can stand a low temperature more
easily than we can to be boiled; eh, Jack?"
"Sure. But I don't want to be frozen or boiled either, if I can help
it. Guess I'll wear my fur suit that we brought back from the North
Pole with us."
"I agree with you, Professor Roumann, about the temperature," announced
Mr. Henderson, "so we must make up our minds to shiver, rather than
melt. But we are prepared for that."
"What about there being no air on the moon?" asked Jack.
"Oh, we can manufacture our own oxygen," said Mark. "We can walk around
with an air tank on our shoulders, as we did when we went beneath the
surface of the ocean. Now, I guess----"
"Dinner am served in de dining car!" interrupted Washington White, his
black face grinning cheerfully. He used to be a waiter in a Pullman,
and he was proud of it. "First call fo' dinner!" he went on. "Part ob
it am boiled, part am roasted, laik I done heah yo' talkin' 'bout jest
now, an' part am frozed--dat's de ice cream," he added hastily, lest
there be a mistake about it.
"Well, that sounds good," observed Mark. "Come on, everybody," and he
led the way to the dining cabin.
They had not been at the table more than a few minutes, and had begun
on the "boiled" part of the meal, which was the soup, when from the
engine room there came a curious, whining noise, as when an electric
motor slows up.
"What's that?" cried Professor Henderson, jumping up from his seat in
alarm.
"Something wrong in the engine room," cried Mr. Roumann.
The two scientists, followed by the boys, hurried to where the various
pieces of apparatus were sending the projectile forward through space.
Already there was an appreciable slackening of speed.
"The Cardite motor has stopped!" cried Mr. Roumann. "Something has
happened to it!"
"Can it be the result of the damage which that lunatic did?" asked Mr.
Henderson.
"Perhaps," spoke Jack. "If I had him here----"
"We are falling!" shouted Mark, looking at an indicator which marked
their speed and motion.
"Can't we start some other motor?" asked Jack.
At that instant from beneath the now silent Cardite machine there came
a prolonged crow.
"My Shanghai rooster!" shouted Washington. "He am in dar!"
A second later the rooster scrambled out, scratching vigorously. Grains
of corn were scattered about. The motor started up again, and the
projectile resumed its onward way.
"The rooster stopped it!" cried Jack. "He went under it to get some
corn, and he must have deranged one of the levers. Oh, you old
Shanghai, you nearly gave us all heart disease!"
And the rooster crowed louder than before, while his colored owner
"shooed" him out of the engine room. The trouble was over speedily, and
the _Annihilator_ was once more speeding toward the moon.