"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 s.p.a.ce."

"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 a.s.sistants."

"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 sh.e.l.l, 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. .h.i.therward, an'

proceed to discuss de similitodinariness ob de interplanetary conjunction what am waitin' fo' yo' heah, de obverseness of de inner const.i.tutions 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 Mark, for he knew the old man must have been hunting.

"And Mark, too!" went on the old hunter. "Well, this is a surprise. No, I didn't have any luck--that is, what you could call luck. There's been a weasel carrying off our chickens and killing them, and I went out to shoot it."

"Did you cotch it, Mistah Sudds?" asked Washington anxiously.

"I didn't 'cotch' it," answered Andy with a grin. "I killed it.

I guess the chickens will be safe now, Wash. But I'm hungry.

I've been hiding out there by the chicken coop all the afternoon.

But what brings you boys back from college?"

"We came home because we are going to take a trip to Mars,"

explained Jack.

"Mars! Mars! Good land! Where'll you folks go next?" exclaimed Andy. "Wash, pa.s.s me some of that cold ham."

"You said you would tell us now how we were to get there, Mr.

Roumann," said Jack, who was anxious, as was Mark, to hear the particulars.

"And so I will," replied the scientist. "You must know that I have long been interested in the planet Mars, for several reasons. Some reasons I will tell you now, and the others I will disclose at a future time."

"Mars, you know, is the fourth major planet, computing their positions in distance from the sun. First there is Mercury, then--"

"I know," interrupted Jack; "Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Ura.n.u.s and Neptune. I learned them at school."