A BREAKDOWN
After the first trembling, due to the increase of speed, the
sensation of traveling at one hundred miles a second was no
different from that when they had been speeding through the
atmosphere at fifty miles a second.
"We'll soon be on Mars now," observed Jack.
"Oh, we'll have to keep going for several days yet," declared Mr.
Roumann. "But I believe we shall eventually reach there. The
Etherium motor is working better than I dared to hope. It is
perfect!"
As they were constantly in the glare of the sun, there was no
night for those aboard the Annihilator, and they had to select an
arbitrary time for going to bed. When any one wanted to retire,
he went to the bunk-room, which was kept dark, and there
slumbered.
For two days the Etherium motor kept sending the projectile
through space. The adventurers divided their time in looking
after the machinery, taking scientific observations or reading
the books with which the small library was stocked. Occasionally
Jack or Mark would play the electric piano, getting much
enjoyment from the music.
"If folks on earth heard these tunes up in the air, I wonder what
they'd think?" asked Jack.
"Humph! I guess we're too far off for them to hear anything that
goes on inside this projectile," said Mark. "Why, we're nearly
seventeen millions of miles above the earth now."
"Good land a' massy! Don't say dat!" cried Washington, who was
setting the table for dinner.
"Why not? It's a fact," declared Mark.
"I knows it is, but don't keep dwellin' on it. Jest s'posin' we
should fall. Mah gracious! Sebenteen million miles! Why, dat's
a terrible ways to drop--it suah am!"
"You're right," assented Jack. "But hurry up dinner, Washington.
I'm hungry."
The two boys were in the midst of the meal when they felt a
curious sensation. Jack jumped up from the table.
"Do you notice anything queer?" he asked Mark.
"Yes. It seems as if we were falling down!"
"Exactly what I thought. I wonder if anything could have
happened?"
The Annihilator was certainly falling through space, and no
longer shooting forward. This was evident, as the motion was
slower than when the projectile was urged on by the mysterious
force.
"Let's go tell Mr. Roumann and Professor Henderson," suggested
Mark.
They started toward the pilot house, but met the two scientists
rushing back toward the engine-room.
"Has anything happened?" asked Jack.
"Yes," answered the German. "The Etherium motor has stopped
working!"
"And are we falling?" asked Mark.
"Yes, in a sense," answered Mr. Henderson, as the other inventor
hurried on. "The gravitation of the earth no longer attracts us,
but we are not heading in a straight line for Mars. We may be
falling into some other planet, or the sun."
Then he, too, went to the engine-room, and the boys followed.
They found the place strangely quiet, since the throbbing and
humming of the main motor had ceased. The dynamos that kept the
light aglow and the air and other pumps were in motion, however.
"What's the matter?" asked Mr. Henderson.
"There's been a breakdown," was the reply of the German. "And it
looks to me as if some one had been tampering with the motor."
"Tampering with the motor?"
"Yes. Some of the plates have been smashed. I believe there is
some one concealed on board--some enemy of mine--who hopes to
destroy us."
"What can we do?" asked Jack.
"Nothing, until the motor is repaired," replied the German
scientist.
"But we are falling--"
"Yes, I know. But we can't fall with anything like the speed
with which we were traveling, and though we may go downward,
comparatively speaking, for a day or so, we can quickly regain
our former place as soon as the motor is running again."
"But can you fix it?"
"Yes, I have some spare plates. But I wish you boys would make a
search through the projectile."
"What for?" asked Mark.
"For the person who smashed the plates. I believe some one is
concealed here who seeks to kill, us. We must find him."
"And I think I know who it is!" exclaimed Jack.
"Who?" asked Mr. Henderson.
"The crazy machinist. I believe he sneaked here through that
open port leading into the storeroom."
"That's it!" cried Mr. Roumann. "He must have done this. See if
you can't find him."
"Come on, Mark," said Jack. "We'll look for the rascal."
"And I'll help," added old Andy. "I'm pretty good on the trail.
Maybe I can locate him."
"Do so, then," advised the German. "The professor and I will
repair the motor."