On a Torn-Away World | Page 3

the other end of the shop?" queried Professor Henderson, in surprise.
"Why, I see that you have a long steel plank there, with some kind of a compressed air contrivance at one end," said Jack.
"Is that what you mean, Professor?" queried Mark.
"That, boys," said the scientist, with some pride, "is a modern catapult--an up-to-the-minute catapult which, had it been known to the ancients, would have enabled the hosts of Joshua, for instance, to batter down the walls of Jericho without the trouble of marching so many times around the city."
"And what has a compressed air catapult got to do with the Snowbird?" queried Jack. "You propose launching your flying machine in the usual way," said the professor. "I see you have wheel trucks all ready to slip under her. We will not use those wheels, boys. I have a better plan. We will launch the Snowbird into the air from my catapult."
"Great goodness, Professor!" cried Mark. "Is that practicable?"
"We'll know after we have tried it," retorted Professor Henderson, drily.
"How did you happen to start working on this catapult idea?" asked Jack.
"Well, I can't tell you everything," replied the inventor, "for it is partly a secret."
"Huh," laughed Mark. "You're mysterious. You haven't joined forces with some department of our government, or with another country?"
The professor smiled, thinking how keen this young man always proved himself to be.
"You've guessed it," he replied. "And I'm sorry I can't explain more to you."
"We understand," said Jack. "And no doubt this machine is a super-catapult."
"True," was the answer. "Of untold use to the scientific world. For the present I shall confine testing its efficiency right in this place. Now is my chance."
"But of what advantage will it be to our flying machine to start it in this way?" "Stop and think, my boy," said the professor. "Just as an aeroplane can literally be shot into the air within a very short space, so can your airship. Of course, this is not necessary, but we will be able to start the ship much faster that way than we could withjust the motors."
"You'll make history, Professor," added Jack. "Exciting headlines for the papers."
"Sure enough," said Mark enthusiastically.
"The publicity doesn't interest me," replied the scientist. "Moreover, my super-catapult must remain a secret, as I told you a while ago."
"So you really propose to launch the Snowbird in this way?" asked Jack.
"We will be shot into the air. If you are sure of your machine, I am sure of my catapult, and we will try the two contrivances together."
In the morning all rose bright and early and prepared the Snowbird for her trial flight. Washington White had indeed disappeared--possibly in search of his Shanghai rooster--and Andy Sudds was off on a hunt. Therefore the professor and his two young comrades essayed the trip alone.
Jack and Mark tossed a coin to see who should first guide the great air machine, and Mark won the preference. He, as well as his chum and the professor, had already donned their aeronautic uniforms, and he now strapped himself into the pilot's seat. The steering apparatus, the levers that controlled the planes, and the motor switch were all under his hand. While in flight the Snowbird need be under the control of but one person at a time.
The professor had rigged his catapult so that he could release the trigger from the flying machine. Mark said he was ready; the professor reached for the cord which would release the trigger.
"Start your motor, Mark, a fraction of a second before I release the compressed air," commanded Mr. Henderson. "Now!"
The motor of the flying machine buzzed faintly. Jack's eyes were on the speed indicator. He suddenly felt the great, quivering flying machine, which had been run out of the hangar on to the steel plank of the catapult, lurch forward. The feeling affected him just as the sudden dropping of an elevator from a great height affects its passengers.
The finger of the speed indicator whirled and marked forty miles an hour ere the flying machine left the steel plank, and shot into the air with the fearful force of the compressed air behind it.
Both Mark and Jack were well used to guiding aeroplanes and other air machines. But this start from the ground was much different from the easy, swooping flight of an airship as usually begun. Like an arrow the Snowbird was shot upward on a long slant. It was a moment ere Mark got the controls to working. The propellers were, of course, started with the first stroke of the motor.
But Mark Sampson was nervous; there was no denying that. At the instant when the nose of the airship should have been raised, so as to clear the tops of the forest trees and every building on the Henderson place, Mark instead guided the rapidly