_ CHAPTER IX. A CRAZY MACHINIST
For a moment Jack stared at Mr. Roumann. He did not appreciate the seriousness of the announcement. The scientist was hurrying here and there, looking under benches and on tables for missing plates.
"Do you mean the plates that make the motor go?" asked Jack.
"No, not those, but the plates from which the mysterious force is projected into space--the plates that give the forward motion to the projectile. They have been stolen. They were taken last night, and the man Andy fired at stole them!"
"Will that prevent us from making the trip?"
"No. I have duplicate plates."
"Then little harm is done."
"No particular harm is done to the projectile, but I am afraid that, with the plates in his possession, the man may discover the secret of the power that I use. Oh, I should have locked them up, but I thought they would be safe."
"What has happened?" asked Mr. Henderson, entering the machine shop at that moment. The scientist told him, and expressed his fear.
"Do you really think there is any danger that the man, whoever he was, will learn how to use the plates?" inquired the professor.
"Perhaps, and then, again, perhaps not. I think it will be very difficult for him to work out the secret of the power from the plates, for they are only a small part of the mechanism. Still, he may do so. I am convinced now that this man is either the same one of whom I stand in fear, or he is some one hired by him to steal my secret."
"Then we had better notify the police," suggested Mark.
"No, that would never do," answered Mr. Roumann. "I would have to describe the plates, in order to have the authorities identify them in the possession of the thief, and I do not care to do that. No; the best plan will be to hasten work or the Annihilator, and start for Mars before the thief can gain any advantage from the plates. If he should succeed in discovering from the plate how to make the power that is discharged in wireless currents, it will take him a long time, and we can be away before then. Let us hasten our work and start for Mars."
"You say you have duplicates of the plates?" asked Jack.
"Yes. I was afraid lest something happen to one set, so I made three. Well, it will do no good to worry, but I wish I had the plates back."
"I don't see how he got them," observed Mark. "There doesn't seem to be anything broken, to indicate how the thief got in, and he certainly didn't touch Professor Henderson's live wire."
Not a window or a door had been forced, and the two machinists, who slept in the shop, declared they had heard no suspicious sounds during the night. It was a mysterious theft, and there seemed to be no means of solving it.
At Mr. Roumann's suggestion they all increased their hours of work on the Annihilator. They wanted to have it finished ahead of the time set, and it seemed that this would be done.
Day after day, and far into the night, they labored. Bit by bit the machinery was installed, the supplies were gathered together, the great water tanks were built, to provide a supply of the fluid in case of any accident to the distilling apparatus. The Etherium motor was almost finished, and the other, motor, which was to drive the Annihilator through the earth's atmosphere, was nearly ready to install. The steering apparatus necessitated considerable labor, and when it was finished Amos Henderson declared they had made a mistake, and would have to build it all over again.
This lost them a week, and time was precious, as there was no telling what the thief would do with the stolen plates.
"I tell you what, but we're going to have a better ship than any of the others we built," remarked Jack one day, as he and Mark were putting the finishing touches to the living-room.
"This isn't a ship," said Mark. "It's a projectile."
"I guess I can call it a ship if I want to," was the retort. "It's going to sail through the air, and it's an airship, of course. Wait until you see the one I'm going to build when I get that new gas invented."
"I'll not go with you," said Mark. "There's too much danger of being blown up."
"There won't be, after I have it perfected. But say, won't it be fine when we're shooting through space to sit here in an easy chair and read a book and eat sandwiches?"
"I guess you think as much of eating as you do of reading, Jack."
"Well, almost, that's a fact. I must cut out some of my eating, too. I've gained five pounds this week, because of not doing any studying. But wait until I get to Mars. Then I'll weigh less."
"I hope Mr. Roumann lets us help run the machinery," went on Mark.
"I guess he'll have to. He'll need help, and I understand that he and the professor, you and I, and Washington and Andy are the only ones going along. He and the professor can't run the affair all alone, and they'll have to have our help. Wash and Andy won't be much good at machinery."
"That's so. My! Think of steering a two hundred-foot projectile through space, when we're moving at the rate of one hundred miles a second!"
"Great, isn't it?" commented Jack.
"It would be a bad thing if it ever got away from us," said Mark.
"Yes; or if we steered into a comet."
"That's so. We may run into one of those things--or a shooting star."
"As long as we don't fall into the sun and get burned up we'll be all right," went on Jack. "And when we get to Mars I know what I'm going to do."
"What?"
"Go for a sail on one of the big canals. Mars is covered with them, astronomers say."
"Maybe the Martians won't let you."
"Maybe not. I wish we could start to-morrow."
"Well, we can't. The Annihilator isn't near done. We will be at her for two weeks yet."
The boys were busy for some time fitting up the living-room. They were in the midst of this occupation, and were conversing about the strange experiences in store for them, when Jack was startled by hearing a strange voice say:
"Say, don't you want some help building this airship?"
He looked up, to see a man standing near one of the entrances to the projectile--an entrance that would be closed when the Annihilator was finished. The man was a stranger, and from his appearance Jack judged that he was a mechanic.
"How'd you get in here?" asked Mark, for he knew it was against the rules for any stranger to enter the machine shop, much less approach the projectile.
"I walked," replied the man. "I saw the door open, and I heard hammering going on in here. I knew it was a machine shop, and as I'm a first class machinist, out of work, I thought I'd apply for the job."
"How'd you get past the doorkeeper?" inquired Jack, for he knew that Andy Sudds was supposed to be on guard with his gun.
"He wasn't at the door," went on the man. "There was nobody there, so I walked in. Can't you give me a job on the airship?"
"How do you know it's an airship?" asked Jack.
"Oh, I know. I know lots of things," and the man winked one eye at the lad. "I built a balloon once."
"Did you?" asked Mark. He began to think perhaps the man might be able to aid them.
"Sure I did. I know about airships. I'll work for low wages, and I'll keep my mouth closed. Oh, I know what patents mean. Say," he went on in a whisper, "you'd be surprised to know where I went in my balloon. I'll tell you," and he looked around as if to make sure no one was listening.
"Where did you go?" asked Jack.
"Up to the moon," was the surprising reply. "And, say, it's all a mistake about it being made of green cheese. It's green apples--that's what it's made of. I know, for I was there, and I ate some. They gave me an awful pain in my head, too," and the man passed his hand across his brow. "A fearful pain," he went on.
Jack and Mark looked at each other. They did not understand the man's strange talk and actions.
"You don't believe me, do you?" the stranger asked. "Well, if you want a good machinist, hire me. I know all about airships and traveling through space. Why, I once did a dance on the tail of a comet, only the comet got mad and shook me off. I'll show you how I danced."
He threw a somersault, lighted on his hands, and began to waltz about in the somewhat contracted space of the living-room of the projectile. Then he set up a loud shout as he regained his feet.
"That's how!" he cried.
The boys were alarmed. The man was evidently crazy, or perhaps he might be doing this for effect, in order to disarm their suspicions, so that he could discover Mr. Roumann's secret. They did not know what to do.
"Come on, we'll all have a dance!" cried the man. "My name is Axtell--Fred Axtell. I used to live on the moon--tra-la-la!"
His loud voice attracted the attention of Mr. Henderson, who was working at the far end of the shop. The professor ran toward the place where the strangely acting man was, the latter having now emerged from the ship, followed by the boys.
"Here we go! Off to the moon!" cried the man, and catching up a big hammer he began to pound on the sides of the Annihilator as if he would destroy the projectile. _