Through Space to Mars by Roy Rockwood (e ink epub reader TXT) 📖

answered Jack. “We heard a explosion, just after

we saw two men running away from the shop, and we found Mr.

Roumann senseless.”

 

Professor Henderson bent over, and placed his hand on the heart

of his friend.

 

“I’m afraid he’s dying,” he said.

 

“Dying?” cried jack in dismay.

 

“Yes; and if he expires, the secret of the wonderful power will

die with him. We will never be able to get to Mars!”

 

The professor placed his ear against the breast of the unconscious

man.

 

“There is still a spark of life,” he remarked. “Perhaps I can

save him. I will try my electric remedy.”

 

He got up and hurried to the house. Mr. Henderson had invented a

number of medical appliances, not the least of which was an

affair, different from an electric battery in that it allowed a

current to be administered internally. It was this that he now

decided to try on the unfortunate German.

 

He came back in less than a minute with a curious machine. It

was shaped like a box, but on the outside had a number of shiny

knobs, and several wires ending in brass handles.

 

Professor Henderson placed a brass handle in each of the palms of

the German, directing Mark and jack to hold them there. Then he

placed several of the shining knobs at the back of his head, and

ran a long wire around his waist.

 

“Now, Andy,” ordered the inventor, “if you will take hold of this

rod and place the end of it on his tongue when I open his mouth,

I think we may be able to revive him.”

 

This was done, and Mr. Henderson turned on the current. There

was a buzzing sound from the box, and a slight tremor was visible

throughout the whole body of the unconscious man.

 

“It is beginning to work!” exclaimed the professor. “He is

coming to!”

 

Mr. Roumann opened his eyes.

 

“Take the rod from his tongue, Andy,” directed Mr. Henderson.

 

The hunter did so, and the German, looking curiously about him,

asked:

 

“Is the projectile damaged?”

 

“It doesn’t seem to be,” replied Jack quickly.

 

“Are you much hurt?” asked the professor.

 

Mr. Roumann passed his hand slowly across his head.

 

“I feel rather strange here,” he said. “There seems to be some

injury.”

 

Mark silently pointed to the cut. Mr. Henderson quickly examined

it.

 

“The skull is not injured,” he announced. “It is merely a scalp

wound. Wait a moment now and I will give you something to make

you feel better.”

 

From a small pocket case he took a spoon and a bottle. He poured

out a strong-smelling liquid, and administered a few drops to the

German. The latter’s pale face at once became flushed.

 

“I think you will be all right now,” said Mr. Henderson. “But it

was a narrow escape. Do you feel well enough to let us take you

to the house?”

 

“I think so. But guard the shop well. That crazy machinist came

back, and some one was with him. Then came an explosion—and I

don’t remember any more.”

 

“I’ll guard the place!” exclaimed Andy. “And if any of those

chaps come around—well, they’ll wish they hadn’t,” and he looked

significantly at his gun.

 

Mr. Roumann was getting better every moment, and was soon able to

stand. He was assisted to the house, where Mr. Henderson

attended to the injury on his head.

 

Then, after some more medicine had been administered, and the

electric remedy had been applied again, the German announced that

he felt almost as good as ever, except for an aching head.

 

“How did it all happen?” asked Mr. Henderson, and Jack and Mark

told what they knew of the explosion.

 

“I was working over an extra air-pump that I wish to take along

with us,” stated Mr. Roumann, “when I was startled by seeing two

strangers standing near my work bench. One I recognized as the

insane machinist who was here before. The other—”

 

“The other was the same one who looked in the window one night,

and who, I believe, stole the power plates,” interrupted Jack.

 

“I wish I had known that,” went on Mr. Roumann. “I would have

made him give them back. But I did not have time to do anything.

Before I could stop him the crazy machinist had thrown something

at me, which I now know must have been a bomb. Then came the

explosion, and knew nothing more until you revived me. Is the

place much wrecked?”

 

“I think not,” answered Jack.

 

“We will go look in a little while; just as soon as we see that

you are all right,” announced the professor.

 

“Oh, I am all right. Go now. I am anxious to know.”

 

Having assured himself that the German was able to walk to the

shop, Mr. Henderson an assent, and the two boys, Washington and

two scientists started for the place where Annihilator was kept.

 

“How did you happen to see it, Washington?” asked Mark.

 

“I was out fixin’ a loose board on mah chicken coop,” explained

the colored man, “when I seen dem two rapscallions come runnin’

out ob de place. I knowed dey hadn’t no right dere, an’ I

hollered at ‘em. But dey didn’t stop, an’ de nextest t’ing I

knowed dere was a big bang. I run in, an’ I seed Mistah Roumann

all blowed to pieces.”

 

“Hardly as bad as that,” said the German with a smile.

 

“Well, almost,” insisted Washington.

 

They reached the machine shop. The smoke had all cleared away,

but the fumes from the bomb were still noticeable.

 

“I wonder what their object could have been?” said Jack.

 

“I believe they are urged on by some of my enemies,” was the

German’s reply. “But let us see what damage has been done. I

hope it is not much.”

 

Pieces of broken machinery, twisted wheels, bent levers,

shattered cogs and smashed plates were all about one corner of

the shop. But the great projectile was still in place. It had

not even been jarred.

 

Mr. Roumann went to an opening in the side that led to the

engine-room. No sooner had he entered than he uttered a cry.

 

“The Etherium motor is damaged!” he exclaimed, and with fear in

their hearts the others followed him inside the Annihilator.