Lost on the Moon; Or, in Quest of the Field of Diamonds

by Roy Rockwood

  CHAPTER XIII

  A DIREFUL THREAT

  Perhaps Washington White's Shanghai rooster did not care to make thetrip to the moon, or perhaps the fowl had not yet seen enough of thisearth. At any rate, when he flew from the projectile, uttering loudcrows, and landed some distance away, he began to run back toward thecoop in the rear of the yard.

  "Cotch him, cotch him!" yelled the colored man. "Dat's a valuable bird!"

  "We'll get him when he goes in the coop," said Jack, who found itdifficult to run and laugh at the same time.

  "Shall I fire my rifle off and scare him?" asked Andy Sudds.

  "No, you might kill him or scare him t' death," objected Washington.

  "Come on, Mark, and help," cried Jack, looking toward the projectile,where a figure was peering from the glass-covered port of the maincabin.

  But the figure, whose hand was done up in voluminous bandages, did notcome out, and Jack wondered the more at what he thought was a growingstrangeness on the part of his chum.

  Jack, followed by Andy and Washington, raced off after the rooster,while the two professors, somewhat amused, rather chaffed at the delay.But afterward they were glad of it.

  "Just my luck!" muttered the bandaged one. "This delay comes at thewrong time. Why don't they go on without that confounded rooster? If westay here too long, that fellow Mark may get loose and spoil the wholething, or Jenkins may go and release him before the time set. It wouldbe just like Jenkins! I've a good notion to start the projectilemyself. I know how to operate the Cardite motor. Only I suppose thosetwo professors are on guard in the engine room. I'll have to wait untilthey catch that rooster, I guess, but I'd like to wring his neck!"

  The chase after the fowl was kept up.

  "I've got him now!" cried Jack a little later, as the fowl, evidentlynow much exhausted, ran into another fence corner, where Jack caughthim, and shut him up in the coop in the projectile.

  "Yo' suttinly am de mos' contrary-minded specimen ob de chicken famblydat I eber seed," observed Washington, breathing heavily, for his runhad winded him.

  "Well, are we all ready to start now?" asked Professor Henderson. "Nomore live stock loose, is there, Jack?"

  "I think not."

  "Where's Mark? Wasn't he helping you catch the rooster?"

  "No, he's inside. Shall I seal the door?"

  "Yes, and I'll tell Professor Roumann that we're about to start. Allready for the moon trip!"

  Jack was pulling the steel portal toward him. An eager face, peeringfrom a port, waited anxiously for the tremor which would indicate thatthe projectile had left the earth. In another moment they would be off.

  But what was that sound coming from down the highway. A steadychug-chug--a sort of roar, as of a battery of rapid-fire guns going offin double relays! And, mingled with the explosions, there was a voiceshouting:

  "Wait! Hold on! Don't go without me! I'm Mark Sampson! Don't start theprojectile!"

  "Somebody must be in a mighty hurry on a motorcycle," thought Jack, ashe paused a moment before fastening the door. Then the shouts came tohis ears.

  "Mark Sampson!" he cried.

  Again came the cry: "Wait! Wait! Don't go without me! You've got thatmysterious man on board!"

  "Mark Sampson!" murmured Jack again. "That's his voice sure enough! Iwonder--can it be possible--that man--with his head all bandagedup--his queer actions--I--I----"

  Words failed the youth. Throwing wide open the door, he sprang out ofthe projectile. A moment later there dashed into the yard, where thegreat projectile rested, a strange figure astride of a puffingmotorcycle. The figure was torn and, ragged, and the nondescriptgarments were covered with dust, for Mark had had a fall. But there wasno mistaking the face that peered eagerly forward.

  "Jack!" cried the youth on the machine.

  "Mark!" ejaculated the lad who had sprung from the projectile. "Whathas happened? Who is the fellow who has been masquerading as you?"

  "A scoundrel and a villain! Let me get at him!" and, slamming on thebrakes, as he shut off the power, Mark leaped from the motorcycle,stood it up against the projectile, and clasped his chum by the hand.

  "What's the matter?" asked Professor Henderson, as he, too, ran out ofthe _Annihilator_. "What does that tramp want, Jack? Give him somemoney, and get back in here; we ought to have started long ago." Helooked at the ragged figure.

  "This isn't a tramp," cried Jack. "It's Mark!"

  "Mark! I thought----"

  "There have been strange doings," gasped the lad in tramp's garments."I have just escaped from being kept a prisoner. Where is themysterious man? Oh, I'm glad I arrived in time! Were you about tostart?"

  "That's what we were," replied Jack. "Oh, Mark, but I'm glad to see youagain! I didn't know what to think. You acted so strange--or, rather,the fellow we thought was you had me guessing!"

  "Good land a' massy!" exclaimed Washington White, as he stood in thedoorway, with Andy Sudds behind him. "Am dere two Marks? What's up,anyhow?"

  "Don't let that fellow get away--the fellow who passed himself off asme!" shouted Mark. "Lock him up! There's some mystery about him thatmust be explained. He's a dangerous man to be at large."

  Professor Henderson turned back to enter the projectile. Jack advisedAndy to get his gun ready, with which to threaten the scoundrel in caseof necessity.

  At that instant there sounded a crash of glass, and the whole front ofthe big observation window in the side of the _Annihilator_ was smashedto atoms. A figure leaped--a figure which no longer had its headbandaged, and whose arm was no longer in a sling--the figure of aman--the mysterious man who had held Mark a prisoner!

  "There he goes!" shouted Jack. "Catch him, somebody! Andy, where's yourgun?"

  "I'll have it in a jiffy!" cried the hunter, as he dashed back to getit.

  But the man did not linger. Scrambling to his feet after his fall,caused by his leap from the broken window, which he had smashed with asledge hammer as soon as he understood that his game was up, he racedout of the yard. He turned long enough to shake his fist at the groupassembled around the projectile, and then leaped away, calling out somewords which they could not hear.

  "Let's take after him," proposed Mark.

  "Come on," seconded Jack.

  "No, let him go; he's a desperate man, and you came just in time tounmask him," said Professor Henderson. "He might harm you if you tookafter him. Let him go. He has not done much damage. We can easilyreplace the broken window. But I can't understand what his object wasin disguising himself as Mark. He certainly looked like you, Mark,especially when he kept his face concealed. Why did he do it?"

  "He wanted to go to the moon in my place," answered the former prisonerof the deserted house.

  "But why?" insisted Jack.

  "Because, I think, he's crazy, and he didn't really know what he didwant. But he certainly had me well concealed," spoke Mark. "I'm freenow, however, and as soon as I get some decent clothes on I'll go withyou to the moon. I wouldn't want the moon people to see me dressed thisway."

  "How did it happen?" asked Jack. "Tell us all about it. My! but Icertainly have been puzzled since you--or rather since the person wethought was you--came back last night all bunged up. Give us the story."

  "I will; give me a chance. I guess that villain is gone for good." AndySudds came out with his gun, and insisted on taking a look down theroad and around the premises. The man was nowhere in sight.

  "Now we're in for another delay," remarked Jack ruefully, as he gazedat the smashed window. "It seems as if we'd never get started for themoon."

  "Oh, yes, we will," declared Professor Henderson. "We have some extraheavy plate glass in the shop, and we can soon put in anotherobservation window."

  "Let's get right to work then," proposed Jack. "That man may come back.Did you learn who he was, Mark?"

  "No, he wouldn't tell his name, and he said he was doing this to getrevenge on us for some fancied wrong. I can't imagine who he is. Butlet's work and talk at the same time. I
'll tell you all that happenedto me," which he did briefly.

  Mark soon got rid of the tramp clothes, and donned an extra suit whichhad been packed in his trunk in the projectile. Then he helped replacethe broken window, which, in spite of their haste, took nearly all therest of the day to put in place.

  "Shall we wait and start to-morrow?" asked Jack, when four o'clockcame. "It will soon be dark."

  "Darkness will make no difference to us," announced Professor Roumann."Our Cardite motor will soon take us out of the shadow of the earth,and we will be in perpetual sunshine until we reach the moon. As we areall ready, we might as well start now."

  They all agreed with this, and, after a final inspection of theprojectile, the travellers entered it, and Jack was once more about toseal the big door.

  Before he could do so there came riding into the yard, on hismotorcycle, which he had claimed that afternoon, Dick Johnson.

  "Wait a minute," he cried. "I've got a letter for you. It's from thatman!"

  "What--another thing to delay us?" cried Jack, but he called toProfessor Roumann not to start the motor, and ran to take from Dick theletter which the lad held out.

  "That same man who gave me the one for Mark gave me this, and he paidme a half a dollar to bring it here," said the boy.

  "All right," answered Jack impatiently.

  He looked at the note. It was addressed to the "Moon Travellers," and,considering that he was one, the youth tore open the envelope. In thedim light of the fading day he read the bold handwriting.

  "I have fixed you," the letter began. "You will never get to the moon.I shall have my revenge. You took my brother Fred Axtell to Mars andleft him there. I determined to get him back, and to that end Idisguised myself as one of the boys, and got aboard. When we weresafely away from the earth, I would have compelled you to go to Marsand rescue my brother. But my plan has failed. I will have my revenge,though. You will never reach the moon, even if you do get started.Beware! George, the brother of Fred Axtell, will avenge his fate!"

  "The brother of the crazy machinist!" gasped Jack. "Now I understandhis strange actions. He's crazy, too--he wanted to go to Mars--he sayswe will never reach the moon! Say, look here!" cried Jack, raising hisvoice. "Here's bad news! That scoundrel has put some game up on us!Maybe he's tampered with the machinery! It won't be safe to start forthe moon until we've looked over everything carefully! He says he'sfixed us, and perhaps he has!"

  From the projectile came hurrying the would-be moon travellers, a vaguefear in their hearts.