Through Space to Mars | Page 8

and Jack and Mark took chairs. "Mr. Santell
Roumann is an inventor, like myself," went on Mr. Henderson. "I have known him for
several years, but I had not seen him in a long time, until he called on me the other day
with his strange proposition. We used to attend the same college, but since his graduation
he has been experimenting in Germany."
"Where I discovered the secret of the wonderful power that will take us to Mars," added
Mr. Roumann.
"That is one point on which we differ," continued Mr. Henderson. "Mr. Roumann
believes we can get to the red planet, which, as he correctly says, is nearer to us now than
it will be again in many years. I do not see how we can get there through the intervening
space."
"And I will prove to you that we can," insisted the other. "The power which I shall use is
strongest known. But it depends on you and your young assistants."
"On us?" asked Jack.
"Yes," replied Mr. Santell Roumann. "If and Professor Henderson can build the proper
projectile, we shall go."
"A projectile!" exclaimed Jack.
"A projectile," said Mr. Roumann again. "I have studied it all out, and I think the
projectile, shaped somewhat like a great shell, such as they use in warfare, or, more
properly speaking, built like a cigar or a torpedo, is the only feasible means of reaching
Mars. We shall go in a projectile, two hundred feet long, and ten feet in diameter at the
largest point. That will offer the least resistance to the atmosphere of the earth, though
when we get within the atmosphere of Mars, and are subjected to its attraction of
gravitation, we shall meet with even less resistance."
"Why?" asked Jack, who wanted to know the reason for everything.
"Because," answered Mr. Roumann, "from my observations I have proved that the
atmosphere of Mars is much less dense than is that surrounding the earth, and the
attraction of gravitation there is about two-thirds less. That is, an object that weighs one
hundred pounds on the earth will weigh only thirty-three pounds on Mars."
"That's the stuff!" cried Jack.
"Why?" asked Mr. Roumann in some surprise.

"Then I'll have a chance to lose weight," replied Jack. "I'm getting too fat here. I weigh a
hundred and eighty pounds, and that's too much for a lad of my age. When I get to Mars
I'll only weigh--let's see, two-thirds of one hundred and eighty--" and Jack got out pencil
and paper and began figuring.
"It's sixty pounds!" exclaimed Mark, who was quick at figures.
"How are we to get to Mars, Mr. Roumann?" demanded Jack.
"I will tell you," answered the blue-eyed man. "When you and the professor have
constructed the projectile, after plans which I shall draw, I will apply my new, wonderful,
secret power, and--"
"If yo' gen'men will kindly project yo'se'ves hitherward, an' proceed to discuss de
similitodinariness ob de interplanetary conjunction what am waitin' fo' yo' heah, de
obverseness of de inner constitutions will be expeditiously relieved," spoke the colored
man, suddenly looking in the room.
"Does that mean supper is ready, Washington?" asked Professor Henderson.
"Yes, sah. It suah do."
"Then why didn't you say so?"
"I did, perfesser."
"Well, perhaps you thought so. Washington has a very peculiar habit of using big words,
just because they sound so imposing," went on the professor. "He spends all his spare
time consulting the dictionary."
"I have noticed it," remarked Mr. Roumann, smiling.
"Well, suppose we go out to supper?" went on Mr. Henderson. "You boys must be
hungry."
"I can eat," admitted Jack.
"You'll get stouter if you do," warned Mark with a smile.
"Can't help it. Wait until we get to Mars."
"Oh, yes, you didn't finish telling us how we were to get there, Mr. Roumann," said Jack.
"I'll tell you while we're at supper," said the scientist. "I confess that Washington's
announcement came just at the right time. I am very hungry."

CHAPTER V

THE SECRET POWER
For a few minutes after they were seated at the table nothing was heard but the rattle of
the dishes and the clatter of knives and forks. Washington was a fine cook, and there was
a plentiful supply of just what the boys liked best.
When the meal was well under way, the dining room door opened, and a strange figure
entered. It was that of rather an aged man, who walked with soft, cat-like tread, and who
leaned forward, as if on the trail of some enemy or wild beast. His eyes were bright,
however, in spite of his age.
"Andy Sudds!" exclaimed Jack. "I was wondering where you were."
"Well, snap my gunlock, if it isn't Jack Darrow!" exclaimed Andy.
"Any luck?" asked