Lost on the Moon | Page 5

when Mars was reached, he escaped.
The book tells how our friends were welcomed by the Martians, how they learned the language, saw many strange sights, and finally got on the track of the Cardite, or red substance, which the German professor, Mr. Roumann, had come so far to seek. This Cardite was capable of great force, and, properly controlled, could move great weights and operate powerful machinery.
Our friends wanted to take some back to earth with them, but when they attempted to store it in their projectile, they met with objections, for the Martians did not want them to take any. They had considerable trouble, and the crazy machinist led an attack of the soldiers of the red planet against our friends, the adventurers in the projectile.
Among the other curiosities brought away by our friends, was a newspaper printed in Mars, for the inhabitants of that place where much further advanced along certain lines than we are on this earth, but in the matter of newspapers they had little to boast of, save that the sheets were printed by wireless electricity, no presses being needed.
As told at the opening of this story, Jack had noticed on one of the sheets they brought back, an account of how some of the Martians made a trip to the moon, and discovered a field of Reonaris. This trip was made shortly before our friends made their hasty departure, and it was undertaken by some Martian adventurers on another part of the red planet than where the projectile landed, and so Professor Henderson and his friends did not hear of it at the time.
"Well, then, suppose we make the attempt to go to the moon," said Professor Roumann, after a long discussion in the laboratory. "It will not take long to get ready."
"I'd like to go," said Jack. "How about you, Professor Henderson? Oh, by the way, Washington said you wanted to see Mark and me, but I was so interested in this news item, that I forgot to ask what it as about."
"I merely wanted to inquire when you and Mark thought of resuming your studies at college," said the aged man, "but, since this matter has come up, it will be just as well if you do not arrange to resume your lessons right away."
"We can study while making the trip to the moon," suggested Mark.
"Not much," declared Jack, with a laugh. "There'll be too much to see."
"Well, we'll discuss that later," went on Mr. Henderson. "Practically speaking, I think the voyage can be made, and, the more I think of it, the better I like the idea. We will look over the projectile in the morning, and see what needs to be done to it to get it ready for another trip through space."
"Not much will have to be done, I fancy," remarked the German scientist. "But I want to make a few improvements in the Cardite motor, which I will use in place of the Etherium one, that took us to Mars."
A little later there came a knock on the rear door of the rambling old house where the professor lived and did much of his experimental work.
"I'll go," volunteered Jack, and when he opened the portal there stood on the threshold a small boy, Dick Johnson, one of the village lads.
"What is it you want, Dick?" asked Mark.
"Here's a note for you," went on the boy, passing over a slip of paper. "I met a man down the road, and he gave me a quarter to bring it here. He said it was very important, and he's waiting for you down by the white bridge over the creek."
"Waiting for who?" asked Jack.
"For Mark, I guess; but I don't know. Anyhow, the note's for him."
"Hum! This is rather strange," mused Mark.
"What is it?" asked Jack.
"Why, this note. It says: 'It is important that I see you. I will wait for you at the white bridge.' That's all there is to it."
"No name signed?" asked Jack.
"Not a name. But I'll just take a run down and see what it is. I'll not be long. Much obliged, Dick."
The boy who had brought the note turned to leave the house, and Mark prepared to follow. Jack said:
"Let me see that note."
He scanned it closely, and, as Mark was getting on his hat and coat, for the night was chilly, his chum went on:
"Mark, if I didn't know, that we had left Axtell, the crazy machinist, up on Mars, I'd say that this was his writing. But, of course, it's impossible."
"Of course--impossible," agreed Mark.
"But, there's one thing, though," continued Jack.
"What's that?" asked Mark.
"I don't like the idea of you going off alone in the dark, to meet a man who doesn't sign his name to the note he wrote. So, if you have no