A MYSTERIOUS THEFT
"Would yo' kindly permit me t' prognostigate yo' attention fo' de
monumental contraction of impossibilitiness in de circomlocution
ob attaining de maximum nutrition ob internal combustion?" asked
Washington White about an hour later, as he poked his head into
the workshop, where the professor, the boys and Mr. Roumann,
together with the machinists, were busily engaged.
"What's that, Wash?" asked Jack with a wink at Mark. "Would you
mind saying that over again?"
"Not in de leastest, Massa Jack," replied the colored man. "What
I done intended to convey to de auditory sensibilities ob de
auricular nerves ob do exterior contraption ob de--"
"Hold on, Washington!" cried Professor Henderson with a laugh.
"That sounds as if it was going in be worse than the other. Did
I understand you to say that you wanted us to come to dinner?"
"Dat's jest it, pertesser. I done 'spress mahself in de most
disproportionate language what I knows how, an' yet it seems laik
some pussons cain't understand de appreciableness ob simplisosity."
"Simplisosity is a new one," murmured Mark, while Washington,
with an injured look at Jack, who was laughing, went back to his
kitchen to prepare to serve the meal.
"I wonder what we'll get to eat when we get up above?" asked
Jack, taking advantage of a lull during the meal, when Washington
was in the kitchen, for it had been agreed that nothing was yet
to be said to the colored man as to their destination, though
Andy Sudds knew of their plans. But Andy could be depended on
not to talk too much.
"Eat?" repeated the professor. "Why, I fancy that we will take
enough along from the earth to last us, eh, Mr. Roumann?"
"Not altogether. I am positive that there is life on Mars, and
where there is life there must be things to sustain it. Perhaps
the food there will not be such as we are used to, but when our
supply, runs short we will have to depend on what we will get
there."
"How long do you expect to stay?" asked Mark.
"It is hard to say. When I get what I want I shall be ready to
return--that is, after having studied the inhabitants and made
some scientific observations."
"Maybe the Martians will like us so that they let us come back,"
suggested Jack with a laugh.
"Oh, I fancy we will be able to get away," said Mr. Roumann.
"But now I must get back to the shop. I am having a little more
trouble with my Etherium motor than I anticipated."
"I don't exactly understand how that works," said Jack. "The
plans don't call for any opening the stern of the Annihilator for
a propeller to project from, and there is no provision for a
tube, such as we used to send compressed air from the Flying
Mermaid. Nor is there anything in front to pull the Annihilator
along."
"We need nothing like that," explained the German scientist.
"The powerful force which I discovered does not need a tube or a
propeller to enable it to be used. The simplest explanation of
it is that it consists of waves of energy, which pass from
certain square surfaces attached to the motor. The force flows
from the plates right through the stern of the ship, passing
through the metal without the necessity for any openings. The
wireless waves, as they may be called, act on the ether, and, by
pushing against it send the projectile forward, just as if it was
a stream of compressed air acting on the atmosphere, or a
propeller in the water. Of course, that is to be used when we
pass beyond the atmosphere. In the latter space I shall use a
different force, as I also shall when we approach Mars."
"Then you can't see this force?" asked Mark.
"No more than you can see the wireless impulses that flow from
the wires of an aerial station."
"Yet it's there, just the same," spoke Jack.
"Indeed, it is," answered the scientist. "But, now I must get
back to my motor."
"Yes," added Professor Henderson, "we must, all get busy. What
are you going to do, Andy?"
"Well, I thought I'd go off hunting. I'm no good at building
machinery. I thought you might like something for dinner--say a
brace of ducks."
"Good!" cried Jack, who was fond of eating, which, perhaps,
accounted for his stoutness.
It was a fine day, just right for hunting, and Andy set off with
his gun over his shoulder.
"I wonder if there'll be any game on Mars," said Mark. "I think
I'd like to hunt there with Andy."
"If other things are in proportion, the game there will be very
different from that on this earth," said the scientist. "We may
find monsters there which you never dreamed of."
"That'll be just the stuff for you, Andy," cried Jack.
"Well, bring on your monsters," said the old hunter, as he walked
toward the little lake, where wild ducks abounded. "I'll try and
shoot some for you."
"Andy takes everything as a matter of course," went on Jack. "No
sort of animal seems to frighten him. If he should happen to
meet a dinotherium, such as used to live ages ago, he'd shoot it
first, and wonder about it afterward."
"And we, are likely to meet with stranger beasts than
dinotheriums on Mars," said Mr. Roumann.
"What am dat dinotherium?" asked Washington, entering the room at
that moment and catching the word.
"Washington wants to work that into his conversation!" exclaimed
Jack with a laugh. "But you want to be careful, Wash."
"Why so, Massa Jack?"
"Because the dinotheriurn was a fearful beast. It was about
twenty feet long, lived in the water, and ate all sorts of
weeds."
"How long you say he was?"
"About twenty feet."
"He must eat a pow'ful sight ob weeds, den. Wish I had one."
"What for?"
"Cause mah garden am jest oberrun wid weeds. If I had one ob dem
dinnasorriouses--"
"Dinotheriums," corrected Jack.
"Dat's what I said," observed Washington with dignity. "If I had
one ob dem, I wouldn't hab t' weed mah garden. Where am one to
be possessed ob, Massa Jack?"
"I guess you were born a few million years too late," was the
lad's answer. "They lived a few centuries before the flood."
"Good land!" exclaimed Washington, his eyes opening wide.
"Before Noah built de ark?"
"Yes."
"Landy gracious! Dat animai'd be so old by dis time dat he
couldn't chew de weeds after he pulled'em. Guess I'll hab t'do
mah own weedin'."
"I reckon you will," added Mark.
They went back to the machine shop, and for the next week were
very busy over the Annihilator. It was beginning to assume
shape, and some of the machinery was installed.
One evening, after a hard day's work, when they 'were all seated
in the big living-room of Professor Henderson's home, discussing
the progress they were making, Jack suddenly held up his hand for
silence.
"What's the matter?"' asked Mark.
"I thought I heard somebody walking around the house," was the
stout lad's answer.
"Maybe it's Washington," suggested the professor. "He generally
goes out to see if his chickens are shut up. He is very proud of
his flock of hens, and seems to hate to kill any for pot-pie."
They all listened. Plainly there was some one or some animal
moving about under the windows of the living-room.
"That doesn't sound like Washington," said Mr. Roumann.
Just then the colored man, who had been upstairs, attending to
some of the housework (for he was the only servant the professor
kept), came down.
"Were you just outside, Washington?" asked Mr. Henderson.
"No, sah. I'se been upstairs, makin' beds."
"There it is again!" cried Jack suddenly.
The footsteps sounded more plainly, and one of the window
shutters rattled.
"Dat's somebody after mah chickens!" exclaimed the colored man.
"I'se gwine t' git him, too!"
He started for the door, but the professor held him back.
"Let Andy go," he said. "He will make less noise than any of
us."
He looked at the old hunter and nodded. Andy understood, and,
taking his gun from a corner, slipped out of a side door, making
no more noise than a cat.
The others, left in the living-room, waited in silence. They
could hear the stealthy footsteps, which, however, seemed now to
be moving away.
"I wonder who or what it can be?" murmured the professor. "This
is the second time some one has been sneaking around here. I
don't like it."
"It does look suspicious," admitted Jack. "Do you suppose the
man you spoke of, Mr. Roumann, who you thought might try to
discover your secret, has traced you here, and is endeavoring to
steal it?"
"No, I hardly think so. I took good care to conceal my
movements, and not even my closest friends know that I am here
with Professor Henderson, making a projectile, the trip of which
will astonish the world. No, I think this must be some other
person."
"It's a pusson after mah chickens!" insisted Washington. "If
yo'll allow me, perfesser, t' project mahself inter de promixity
of his inner consciousness--"
"No, you just stay here," decided Mr. Henderson. "You might get
into trouble if you went out and tried conclusions with a thicken
thief, which I suppose is what you are trying to say you want to
do."
"Dat's what I did say, perfesser."
They could no longer hear the footsteps, but the silence of the
night was suddenly broken by the report of Andy's gun.
"There! He's shot at him!" cried Jack.
"I hope he disabled dat chicken stealer!" yelled the colored man.
"Anybody what'll steal chickens--"
"Hush!" commanded Mr. Henderson.
Another shot rang out, and then the sound of footsteps could be
heard.
"He's running past here," called Jack, hurrying to the door.
He caught sight of a dark figure rushing past, and was about to
follow, but the outline was immediately lost in the darkness, and
Jack that it would be a useless move. Andy came up.
"Did you hit him?" cried Jack
"No. I only fired over his head," replied the old hunter.
"Who was it?"
"I don't know, but it was some man prowling around, and for no
good purpose, I take it."
"Did he steal any ob my chickens?" asked Washington.
"No; he wasn't near the coop."
"I guess it was only a tramp," said Mr. Henderson.
"I hope he doesn't go near the machine shop," added Mr. Roumann.
"Still, if he did, the two machinists sleeping there would hear
him."
They returned to the room, and Andy stood his gun in a corner.
The weapon was seldom far from him.
"What was he doing when you saw him?" asked Mr. Henderson.
"Just sneaking along the window here as if listening."
"Maybe he was trying to hear what we were talking about,"
suggested Jack.
"Or trying to discover my secret," added Mr. Roumann quickly.
"Fortunately I never talk about the secret of the power. But I
shall be anxious about the machine shop."
"Suppose we go out and take a look around it," proposed Mark.
"Ned and Sam will know if any intruder has been sneaking around
there."
They all went out where the Annihilator was in process of
building, but the machinists said they had not been disturbed,
and they were sure no one had stolen anything.
There was no further disturbance that night, but when Mr. Roumann
paid an early visit to the machine shop the next morning, he
uttered a cry of surprise.
"What is it?" asked Jack, who accompanied him.
"The plates--the plates of the Etherium motor!" cried the
scientist. "They have been stolen!"