"It has that name," said Mark.
There was a pause for a moment, and the lad was a trifle embarrassed.The man was gazing boldly at him.
"I guess I've made a mistake," thought Mark. "This can't be the man we want. He doesn't live here, and he doesn't look like him. I'd better be getting back to meet Jack."
"Are you engaged at anything in particular?" questioned the man taking a few steps nearer the youth.
"No, I'm not working, but I expect to take a trip, shortly, with some friends of mine," answered Mark.
"Ah, is that so?" and there was polite inquiry in the man's voice. "Are you going far?"
"Quite a distance." Mark wondered what the man would say if he told him he was going to the moon.
"I wonder if you would do me a favor?" went on the man. "As I was passing through this old house I saw, on one of the outer doors, an old-fashioned knocker. I am a collector of antiques, and I would very much like to have that. But I need help in getting it off. I do not intend to steal it, but if it is left here some tramp may destroy it, and that would be too bad. I intend to remove it, and then hunt up the owners of this place, and purchase it from them."
"It will be hard to discover who are the owners," replied Mark, "as the title is in dispute."
"So much the better for me. Will you help me remove the knocker? I will pay you for your time."
Mark hesitated. He did not like the man's manner, and there was a shifty, uneasy look about his eyes. Still he might be all right. But Mark did not like the idea of going into the old house with him alone. It might be safe, and, again, it might not. But the knocker was on an outside door. There could be no harm in helping him, as long as it was outside. The man saw the hesitation in the lad's manner.
"It will not take us long," the stranger said. "I want you to help me pry off the knocker, as I have no screw-driver to remove it. I will pay you well."
As he spoke he came nearer to Mark, and the lad noticed that the man's right hand was held behind his back. This struck Mark as rather suspicious. Suddenly he became aware of a peculiar odor in the air—a sweet, sickish odor. He started back in alarm, all his former suspicions aroused. The man seemed to leap toward him.
"Look out!" suddenly cried the fellow. "Look behind you!"
Involuntarily Mark turned. He saw nothing alarming. The next instant he felt himself grasped in the strong arms of the man, and a cloth that smelled strongly of the strange, sweetly sickish odor was pressed over the lad's face.
"Here! Stop! Let me go! Help! Help!" cried Mark. Then his voice died out. He felt weak and sick, and sank back, an inert mass in the man's arms.
"I guess I've got you this time," whispered the fellow, as he gazed down on Mark's white face. "I'll put you where you won't get away, either," and, picking up the youth, he carried him a prisoner into the deserted house.
Whistling merrily, with his mind as much on the big field of diamonds he expected to discover on the moon, as it was on anything else, Jack Darrow crossed over the meadows toward the telegraph office.
"By Jinks! It certainly will be great to fly through space once more," he mused. "Of course it isn't much of a trip, only a quarter of a million miles at most, but it will be a little outing for us, and then those diamonds!"
A trip of a quarter of a million miles only a little outing! But then what can be expected of lads who had gone to Mars and back again?
Jack lost no time in reaching the telegraph office, where he left the message to be sent, urging the operator to "rush" it, which that official promised to do.
"'Twon't be no great hardship on me, neither," he said with a cheerful grin, "seein' as how this is the only one I've had to send to-day. I'll get it right off for you, Jack."
Jack meant to hurry back, but, just as he was turning out of the main village street, to cut across lots, and join Mark at the place agreed upon, Jack saw two dogs fighting. It was with the best intentions in the world that he ran toward them, for he wanted to separate them. However a man was ahead of him, and soon had the two beasts apart. But Jack lingered several moments to see if there would be a renewal of the hostilities. There wasn't, and he hurried on. In a short time he was within sight of the barn, where his chum had agreed to meet him.
"Mark!" cried Jack, when he came within hailing distance.
There was no response.
"Maybe he's hiding to fool me," thought the lad, "I'll give him another call."
Neither was there a reply to this shout, and Jack, with a vague feeling of fear in his heart, hurried forward, climbed the fence that separated the field from the highway, and fairly ran toward the barn.
A glance sufficed to show that Mark was not in sight, and, thinking that his chum might be on the other side, Jack went around the structure.
"Oh, you Mark!" he called. "I'm back! Let's get a move on and go to the old house."
Silence was the only answer.
"That's queer," murmured Jack, when he had made a circuit of the place, and had seen no sight of his friend. "I wonder if anything could have happened to him? Perhaps he went inside, and has fallen down the hay mow. I'll take a look."
He made a thorough inspection of the ramshackle old structure, but there was no evidence that Mark had entered it, and Jack was soon quite assured that no harm had befallen his friend in there. Then a sudden thought came to him.
"Why, of course!" he exclaimed aloud. "I should have thought of that before. Mark got tired of waiting, and went on to the Preakness house. I might have known. I'll go on and catch up to him there."
Jack had reasoned correctly, but he could not know, what had taken place with only the old, grim, deserted mansion for a witness. With a lighter heart he set off down the road.
It did not take him long, at the pace he kept up, to come within sight of the old gateway, with the creeper twining over the pillars. Then he caught a glimpse of the house, and he at once slackened his footsteps.
"No use rushing into this thing," he reasoned in a whisper. "Mark may be in hiding, taking an observation of the mysterious man, and I don't want to spoil it, by butting in. Guess I'll lie low for a while, and see what develops."
Crouching down beside some bushes that lined the roadway Jack looked toward the silent, tumbled-down house and waited. All was still. Occasionally a shutter flapped in the wind, the hinges creaking dismally, or some of the loose window-panes rattled as the sash was blown to and fro. It was not a pleasant aspect, and as the afternoon was waning, and the sun was going down, while a cool wind sprang up, Jack was anything but comfortable in his place of observation.
And the one objection to it was that there was nothing to observe. Not a sign of life was to be seen about the place, and the broken windows, like so many unblinking eyes, stared out on the fields and road.
"Oh pshaw!" exclaimed Jack at length, "I'm not going to sit here this way! I'm going up and take a look. It can't bite me, and if that man's in there I can give him some sort of a talk that will make it look all right. I'm going closer. Maybe Mark's inside there, waiting for me, though it's queer why he didn't keep his agreement and wait for me at the barn. Well, here goes."
Though he spoke bravely, it was not without a little feeling of apprehension that Jack started toward the old mansion. He kept a close watch for the advent of any person or persons who might be in the house, but, when he reached the front porch, and had seen no one, he felt more at ease.
"Hello, Mark!" he cried boldly. "Are you inside?"
He paused for an answer. None came.
"This is getting rather strange," murmured Jack, who was now quite puzzled as to what to make of the whole matter. "Mark must be here, yet why doesn't he answer me? Oh, you Mark!" he shouted at the top of his voice.
There was only silence, and, after waiting a few moments Jack made up his mind that the best plan would be to enter the house and look around.
He made a hasty search through the lower rooms, but saw no sign of Mark. It was the same upstairs, and on the third floor there was no evidence of his chum. Jack called again, but got no reply.
"The garret next, and then the cellar," he told himself, and these two places, darker and more dismal than any other parts of the old mansion, were soon explored.
"Well, if Mark came here he's not here now," thought Jack, "and there's no use in my staying any longer. Maybe something happened that he had to go back home. Perhaps he's trailing the man. We should have made up some plan to be followed in case anything like that happened."
Deciding that the best thing he could do would be to go back home Jack came out of the old house. As he did so he gave a final call:
"Mark! Oh, you Mark! Are you anywhere about?"
What was that? Was it an answer, or merely the echo of his own voice?Jack started, and then, as he heard another sound, he said:
"Only the wind squeaking a shutter. Mark isn't here."
If Jack had only known!
Through the quickly-gathering darkness Jack turned his steps toward home. On the way along the country road he kept a sharp lookout for any sign of his chum, and, also, he looked to see if he could catch a glimpse of any person who might answer the description of the man they suspected of tampering with the Cardite motor.
But the road was deserted, save for an occasional farmer urging his horses along, that he might the more quickly get home to supper.
"It's mighty strange," mused Jack, as he kept on. "I don't think Mark did just right, and yet, perhaps, when it's all explained, he may have good reasons for what he did. Maybe I'm wrong to worry about him, and, just as likely as not, he's safe home, wondering what kept me. But he might have known that I'd come back to the barn where I said I'd meet him. Of course that dog-fight delayed me a little, but not much."
It was quite dark when Jack reached the house where he and his chum lived with the two professors. There was a cheerful light glowing from many windows, and Jack also noticed an illumination in the shed where the projectile was housed.
"Guess they're working on it, to get it in shape for the trip, sooner than they expected," he mused.
Jack was met at the door by Washington White.
"Hello, Wash!" greeted the lad.
"Good land a' massy! Where hab yo' been transmigatorying yo'se'f during de period when the conglomeration of carbohydrates and protoids hab been projected on to de interplanetary plane ob de rectangle?"
"Do you mean where have I been while supper was getting ready?" askedJack.
"Dat's 'zackly what I means, Massa Jack."
"Then why don't you say it?"
"I done did. Dat's what I done. Supper's cold. But where am Massa Mark?"
"What! Isn't Mark home?" cried Jack, starting back in alarm.
"No, Massa Jack, we ain't seed him sence yo' two went off togedder.Where yo' all been?"
"Mark not home!" gasped Mark. "Where is Professor Henderson, Wash? I must speak to him at once."
"He am out in de shed wif Massa Roumann."
With fear in his heart Jack dashed out toward the big shed.
"Ain't yo' goin' t' hab some supper?" called Washington.
"I don't want any supper—yet," flung back Jack over his shoulder.
Mark Sampson lay an inert mass in the arms of the man who had attacked him. Through the sagging door of the old, deserted house the captive lad was carried, and up creaking stairs.
"I guess no one saw me," whispered the man. "I'm safe, so far, and I can work my scheme to perfection. Everything turned out well for me. I was just wondering how I could get this youth in my power, and he fairly walked into my hands! Now to keep him safe until I can take his place in the projectile, and have my revenge. I have waited a long time for it, but it has come at last!"
Pausing at the head of the creaking stairs the man looked behind him, to make sure that he was not being followed, but not a sound broke the stillness of the old house, save the rattle and bang of the ruined shutters.
"I'm safe! Safe!" exulted the man, with a cruel chuckle. "Now to bind him, and hide him in the secret chamber."
He laid Mark down on a pile of bagging in a corner of a room at the head of the stairs. Then, still glancing behind him, as if fearful of being observed, the man walked over to a mantlepiece, fumbled about a bit of carving that adorned the centre, and pressed on a certain spot. A moment later the mantle seemed to swing out, and there was revealed a secret room, the existence of which would never have been suspected by the casual observer.
Taking some of the bags from the pile where the unconscious lad was, the man made a rude bed in the secret room. Then he carried Mark in, and placed him in a fairly comfortable position, first taking the precaution, however, of binding his hands and feet.
"There," whispered the man, when he had finished, "I guess you'll not get away in a hurry. Now I'll wait until dark, and then I'll give you something to eat, for I don't want you to starve. But I must keep in hiding, for, very likely, there'll be a search made for him. Guess I'd better stay here, and see what happens," and the mysterious man pressed the spring that sent the mantle back into place again, hiding all traces of the secret room.
"It's a good thing I stumbled upon this hiding place," he said to himself. "It couldn't be better for what I want. Now to see what happens next."
He did not have long to wait, for in a short time Jack, as we have seen, appeared on the scene, and began his search. At the sound of his voice, calling for Mark, the man started in his hiding place, and glanced uneasily at Mark.
"He may hear, and wake up," he whispered.
Jack came upstairs in the deserted house, and continued his search there, calling from time to time. He gave one loud shout at the head of the stairs, and the very thing that the man feared would happen came to pass.
The effect of the drug having worn off, Mark stirred uneasily, and started up. He heard Jack's cry, and uttered a half-articulate answer. In an instant the man was at his side, and had quickly gagged him. This had the further effect of awakening the unfortunate lad; and he struggled to loosen his bonds, but they were too strongly tied. He endeavored to answer Jack, but only a meaningless mumble resulted, for the gag was effective.
"All you have to do is to keep quiet," urged the man, as he knelt beside Mark in the darkness. "As soon as your chum goes, I'll take that thing out of your mouth, and give you something to eat."
Jack's voice died away, and presently, as the ears of the man told him, the boy left the old house. Waiting some time, to make sure that he would not return, the man removed the knot of rags from Mark's mouth, and slightly loosened his bonds, first warning him, however, that if he attempted to escape he would be harshly dealt with.
"But what right have you to keep me here?" demanded the youth. "Who are you, and what have I done to you, that you should treat me this way? Are you crazy? Don't you know that you are liable to arrest for this?"
"No one can arrest me," boasted the fellow.
"But why have you made me a prisoner?" demanded Mark.
"For reasons of my own. You'll see very soon."
"But what have I done to you?" persisted the lad. "I never saw you before, that I know of, unless you are the man who sent me the note, and who ran when my chum and I came to the bridge to meet you."
"I'm the man," was the answer, with a chuckle.
"Then you must be the one who tried to wreck our projectile," went onMark.
"Yes, I did that, and now I am sorry for it, for I have thought of a much better scheme for getting even, and having my revenge on you."
"But why do you want to be revenged on us?"
"Because of what you have done!" and the man's voice took on an ugly tone.
"But what did we do?" begged Mark.
"You'll know soon enough," was the answer, with a cunning laugh, and then Mark was sure he had to deal with a lunatic. He ceased his struggles to loosen the bonds, and resolved to meet cunning with cunning. He would bide his time.
"Will you promise to be quiet, and not kick up a fuss if I get you something to eat?" asked the man.
"Yes; but I'd rather have a drink of water first. I feel sick."
"Very well, you shall have some water. I'll have to go out and get it, but I must first blindfold you, so that you will not discover the secret of this room."
Mark could not help himself, for he was bound, and when the man had tied a handkerchief over his eyes, Mark heard his captor moving about.
Next there came a sound as of some heavy body, or object, being pushed across the room. Mark felt a draught of wind on his face, but it ceased instantly, and he knew that he was alone. He tried to work the bandage from over his eyes, and he endeavored to loosen his bonds, for he did not consider that this violated his promise. But it was of no effect.
Presently he heard the moving, shoving sound again, and once more felt the wind on his face. Then he heard the voice of his captor speaking.
"Here is food and drink. I'm going to untie your hands so you can eat, but mind, no fighting, for I'm a desperate man, and I won't stand any nonsense!"
He fumbled about the bonds, and soon Mark was free to stand up and use his hands. The bandage was taken from his eyes, and he was able to peer about his prison by the light of a candle which his captor had brought.
Mark's first glance was at the man. He was the same one who had emerged from the house to attack and drug him, but as for recognizing in him the person who had been at the bridge, this was impossible. As far as Mark could tell he had never seen the man before, nor did he answer the description given by Dick Johnson.
There was little danger that Mark would attempt violence. He was too weak, and his jailer seemed a powerful fellow. Then, too, the lad felt ill from the effects of the drug.
"Drink some water, and eat a bit, and you'll feel better," urged the man, which advice Mark followed, though, his appetite was not of the best, and he was much worried as to what his friends would think about his strange disappearance.
"What do you intend to do with me?" asked Mark, when he felt a little better from the effects of the food and drink. The man had sat on an old soap box, and watched his captive while he ate.
"Do with you? Why, I'm going to keep you here until your friends have left in the projectile," was the answer.
"But why don't you want me to go with them?"
"Oh, I have my reasons. You'll find out soon enough. You can't go, that's all."
"But why do you take such an interest in me? Why didn't you capture my chum Jack, too, while you were about it?"
"Two reasons. One was that Jack wouldn't answer my purpose, and the other was that I didn't have a chance to get him. You walked right into my trap, just when I was doing my best to think of another plan to get hold of you, since my first one failed."
"But what is your purpose?" insisted the lad. "What do you want with me?" He thought perhaps if he questioned the man closely enough he might discover something that would give him a clew, or might aid him to escape.
"You'll learn soon enough," was the answer.
"Will you tell me your name?" asked Marie quietly.
"No—why should I?" was the quick reply. "If I told you who I was you would at once know why I have made you a captive here. No; you shall hear all in good time, but that will not be until I am ready.
"Now," went on his captor, after a period of silence, "I shall have to bind and blindfold you again."
"Why?" asked Mark, in some alarm.
"Because I don't want you to see how I get in and out of this room, and that's the only way I can guard my secret. Though if you promise not to remove the bandage from your eyes within five minutes from the time I leave you, I will not have to tie your hands and feet. After I am gone you may take the handkerchief off, but when you hear me rap on the wall, ready to come back again, you must once more blindfold yourself. Otherwise I shall have to tie you up."
Mark considered a moment. It was not pleasant to be tied with the cruel ropes, and he felt that in time he could penetrate the mystery of how the room opened, even if he did not see his jailer enter and leave.
"I promise," he said finally.
"That's good. It simplifies matters. Now you can blindfold yourself, and I trust to your honor. You may remove the bandage in five minutes, but when you hear me knock, you must replace it until I am in the apartment. Then you can take it off again."
There was little choice but to obey, and Mark tied the handkerchief over his eyes. He listened intently, heard the man moving about the room, felt the wind on his cheeks, and then came silence.
He waited until he thought five minutes had passed, and then took off the bandage. The candle was burning where the man had set it, but the fellow himself was gone. He had taken with him the broken dishes, and remains of the food Mark had not eaten. The glass and a pitcher of water stood on a broken table, and Mark took a big drink.
"Now to see if I can't get out of this place," he murmured to himself.
Mark had invented many pieces of apparatus, and he was considered a good mechanician. Consequently he went about his task in a systematic manner. He examined the walls carefully by the candle, which he carried in his hand, but no opening was apparent.
"Of course, there must be some secret spring to press," said the lad. "That's how he gets in and out. A section of the wall moves, but where it is I can't see. It will take time. I must look at every inch."
He was in the midst of his investigations when there sounded on the wall back of him three raps.
"Ha! At least, that tells me where the opening is," thought the lad."It's on that side, but now I have to put that blamed bandage on. Well,I may be able to escape yet."
True to his promise, he blindfolded himself well, and presently he heard a noise, felt a draught of air, and he knew his captor was in the room.
"You can now take off the handkerchief," said the man. "I have brought you some more bags for bed clothing. It isn't much, but it is all I have. They will keep you warm tonight."
"Are you going to imprison me over night?" asked Mark.
"Yes, and I'll stay here with you. No one can find us here. The secret room is well hidden. But first I have another matter that needs attention. I am going to ask you a question."
"What?" asked the captive, wondering what strange request the mentally unbalanced man would make now.
The man leaned forward and whispered something in Mark's ear, as if he was afraid the very walls would hear.
"I'll not do it!" cried the youth. "I'll never aid you to deceive my friends, for that is your object. I'll never do it!"
"Then I shall have to use force," was the determined response. "You may take your choice!"
Poor Mark did not know what to do, yet there was little he could choose between. The man had him in his power, yet the lad was terribly afraid of the result of the daring scheme which he knew was in the mind of the lunatic, for such he believed the man to be.
"Will you not give up this plan?" begged Mark. "I know Professor Henderson will pay you any sum in reason to let me go. You can become a rich man."
"I don't want riches—I want revenge!" exclaimed the man. And he glared at Mark, while throughout the dismal, deserted house there sounded the rattle and bang of the flapping shutters.
Jack Darrow fairly burst into the big shed where the two scientists were at work over the ruined motor. They looked up at his excitable entrance, and Mr. Henderson called out:
"Why, Jack, what's the matter?"
"Quite a lot, I'm afraid," answered the lad, and there was that in his voice which alarmed the professors.
"What do you mean?" inquired Mr. Roumann, laying aside some of the damaged motor plates.
"Mark's gone!" gasped Jack.
"Gone! Where?" exclaimed Mr. Henderson.
"I don't know, but he went to the deserted house, where we thought the mysterious man was hiding, and since then I can't find him."
Then the frightened lad proceeded to explain what he and Mark had undertaken, and the outcome of it; how his chum had failed to meet him at the rendezvous, and how Jack had searched through the old house without result.
"There's but one thing to do," declared Professor Henderson, when he had listened to the story. "We must go back there and make a more thorough search."
"What—to-night?" exclaimed the German.
"Surely. Why not? We can't leave Mark there all alone. He may be hurt, or in trouble."
"That's what I think," said Jack. "I'll tell Washington and Andy, and we'll go back and hunt for him. Poor Mark! If he had only waited for me, perhaps this would never have happened, and if I hadn't stopped at the dog-fight maybe Mark would have waited for me. Well, it's too late to worry about that now. The thing is to find him; and I guess we can."
Jack would not stop longer than to snatch a hasty bite of supper before he joined the searching party. Washington and he carried lanterns, while Andy Sudds had his trusty rifle, and the two professors brought up in the rear, armed with stout clubs, for Jack's account of the affair made them think that perhaps they might have to deal with a violent man.
"Hadn't you better notify the police?" suggested Andy. "A couple of constables would be some help."
"Not very much," declared Jack. "Besides, there are only two in Bayside, and it's hard to locate either one when you want them. I guess we can manage alone."
"Yes, I would rather not notify the police if it can be avoided," saidProfessor Henderson.
The searching party hurried along the country highway, which was now deserted, as it was quite dark. Their lanterns flashed from side to side, but they had no hope of getting any trace of Mark until they came to the old barn, at least, though Jack wished several times that he might meet his chum running toward them along the road.
They reached the barn in due course, and while Washington, Jack and Andy began a search of it, the two scientists went up to the house of the man who owned it and enlisted his aid. They asked him if he had seen Mark around that afternoon, but the farmer had not.
"But me an' my hired man'll come out and help you hunt through the barn," he said. "I remember once, when I was a lad, that my brother fell off the hay mow and lay unconscious in a manger for five hours before we found him. Maybe that's what's happened to this young man," suggested Mr. Hampton, which was the farmer's name.
"I looked around pretty well this afternoon," explained Jack, when the farmer and his man had reached the barn, "but, of course, I didn't know all the nooks and corners."
A thorough search of the structure, however, failed to reveal the presence of Mark, and then the farmer volunteered to accompany the party on to the old Preakness house. His offer was received with thanks, and, bringing two more lanterns with them, Mr. Hampton and his man added considerable to the illumination.
They went through the old mansion from garret to cellar, and called repeatedly, but there was no answer. And good reason, for in the secret room, with his captive, the mysterious man heard the first approach of the searching party; and he quickly bound Mark and gagged him, so that he could not answer.
There was nothing to do but to leave, and it was with sad hearts thatJack and his friends departed, their search having been unavailing.They turned toward home, which they reached quite late, but foundnothing disturbed.
No one in Professor Henderson's house slept much that night, and in the morning pale and wan faces looked at each other, all asking the same question: "Where is Mark?"
But no one could answer.
They talked over the matter, and decided that Jack, with Andy and Washington, should form a searching party to scour the surrounding country. The two scientists were too old for such work, and, as the aid of the police was not desired, it was felt that the three could do all that was necessary.
Accordingly, while Professor Henderson and his German friend went to work on the damaged motor, which did not need as much repairing as at first was thought to put it in working shape again, Jack and the two men started off to hunt for Mark.
They were gone all that day, returning very much discouraged at dusk, saying that they could get no trace of him.
"I don't see where he can be!" exclaimed Jack desperately, for, though the two lads were not related, they had been friends so long, and had shared so many pleasures and dangers together, that they were like brothers. "You won't start for the moon until you find him, will you, Professor?" asked Jack.
"No, indeed; though we could start to-morrow if he was here," replied the aged scientist. "The special tools came to-day, and the motor has been repaired. We have tested it, and the Cardite power works even better than did the Etherium apparatus."
"Then we can start as soon as Mark is found?" asked Andy Sudds.
"Yes, for everything has been put inside the projectile, and all that remains is to haul it out of the shed, point it at the moon, and start the motor."
"Then I guess I'll give my gun a final cleaning, and get ready. There may be good hunting on the moon," said the old hunter.
Jack was tired from his long tramp that day, searching for his missing chum, but before he went to bed he wanted to go out and take a look at the big projectile, which was now ready to start for the moon.
As he turned around the corner of the immense shed to enter the door, he was startled by seeing a figure coming toward him. Jack started, rubbed his eyes, and peered again.
"Is it possible? Can I be mistaken?" he whispered.
The figure came nearer. Jack, who had come to a halt, broke into a run.
"Mark! Mark!" he cried joyously. "Oh, you've come back! Where have you been?"
Jack was about to clasp his chum in his arms when he saw that Mark's arm was in a sling, and that his face was all bandaged up, so that scarcely any of his features showed. Had it not been for the clothes, and a certain stoutness of which Mark never could seem to get rid, Jack would scarcely have known his friend.
"Why, Mark, what happened?" cried Jack. "Have you met with an accident? Where have you been? In a hospital? What became of you? Why didn't you wait for me?"
"I can't answer all those questions at once," was the reply, and Jack thought Mark's voice was curiously muffled and hoarse, entirely unlike his usual tones. But he ascribed that to the bandages around the mouth.
"Well, answer one at a time then," said Jack, and there was an undefinable, strange air about his chum which cooled Jack's first impulse of gladness. "Whatever happened to you, Mark? Are you hurt?"
"I was—yes," came the reply, in short, jerky tones. "I had an accident, and I've been in a hospital. That's why I couldn't send you word. But I'm all right now. When does the projectile start?"
"To-morrow, now that you're here. But tell me more about it. Where were you hurt?"
"On my head and arm."
"No; I mean where did the accident occur?"
"Oh, in the old house where I went to—to look for that man."
"Did you find him?" asked Jack eagerly.
"No. He's not there now."
"Well, never mind. We won't bother about him. Come on to the house. My, but I'm glad to see you again! And so will the others be."
In his enthusiasm at seeing his chum again Jack wanted to hug him. He approached Mark, but the latter cried out:
"Look out! Don't come too close!"
"Why not? Have you caught some disease?"
"No, but you might hurt my broken arm!"
"Oh, is it broken? That's tough luck. Did you fall?"
"Yes—in the old house. I fell down stairs."
"And your head is all bandaged up, too," went on Jack, trying to peer into his friend's face through the roll of bandages.
"Look out! Don't come too near!" again warned the other. "You might jostle against me, and knock off some of the bandages."
"Did you lose some of your teeth, the reason your voice sounds so funny?" asked Jack.
"Yes, I did knock out a few when I tumbled. But don't bother about me.I'll be all right soon. Let's go in the house. I want to go to bed."
"But they'll all want to see you, and hear about the accident, Mark," insisted Jack. "My, but we've been all worked up about you. How did you happen to be taken to a hospital?"
"A farmer came along, and I hailed him. Then I lost consciousness, and couldn't let you know where I was. But never mind the details. I'm anxious to get started on the trip to the moon. Couldn't we start to-night?"
"I don't believe so. You need rest. But come on in the house." ThenJack hurried on ahead, calling: "Mark's found! Mark is back!"
His cries brought all of the others out on the porch, and at first they could scarcely believe the good news, but soon Jack and the new arrival came in sight. As Jack had been, the two professors and the others were startled when they saw how Mark was bundled up in bandages.
"He fell down stairs," explained Jack.
"Come over here where it's light, so I can see you," suggested Professor Henderson. "Perhaps some of the bandages have slipped off since you came from the hospital. Why did you come alone? Why didn't you send us word where you were as soon as you were conscious, and we would have come for you."
"Oh, I didn't want to bother you," explained the bundled-up figure. "I managed to walk it all right."
"But your injuries may need attention," insisted Mr. Henderson. "I know something about doctoring. Come here where I can see."
"No—no—the—light hurts my eyes," was the hasty reply. "I guess I'll go to bed, so as to be all ready to start in the morning. Why don't you leave for the moon to-night, professor?"
"There are still a few little details to look after. But are you sure you are well enough to go with us? We may meet with hardships up on the moon."
"Oh, I'm all ready to go," was the answer. "I'd start to-night if I could. But now I must get to bed."
"Don't you want supper?" asked Jack.
"No, I had some just before I left the hospital."
"What hospital was it?" inquired Andy Sudds. "I was in one once, and I didn't like it. There wa'nt enough air for me."
"I forget the name of the place," came the reply. "I can't think clearly. I need sleep."
The newcomer kept in the shadows of the room, as if the light hurt his eyes, and appeared restless and ill at ease. With the hand that was not in a sling he pulled the bandages closer about his face.
"Can't you tell us more about what happened?" asked Jack, for Mark was not usually so reticent, and his chum noticed it.
"There isn't much to tell," was the response. "I went to the old house, and I was looking around when I happened to tumble down stairs. I must have been knocked unconscious, but when I came to I crawled outside. A farmer was driving past, and I asked him to take me to a hospital."
"Why didn't you come home?" asked Mr. Henderson.
"Oh, I didn't want to make any trouble and delay work on the projectile. I figured that I could be with you in a few hours, and you wouldn't worry. But they insisted that I must stay in the hospital when they got me there. Then I lost consciousness again, and couldn't manage to let you know where I was. But I'm all right now."
"Why didn't you wait for me at the barn, when I went to send the telegram, as you promised you would?" asked Jack, who felt a little hurt at his chum's neglect.
"Did I promise to wait for you at some barn?"
"Yes; don't you remember?" and Jack gazed at the bandaged figure in surprise.
"Oh, yes—I—I guess I do. But I want to go to bed now," and pulling the cloths closer about his face the injured one started from the apartment.
"Here. That's not the way up to your room. The stairs are over here," called Jack, for he saw the newcomer taking the wrong direction.
"Oh, yes. Guess my mind must be wandering," and with an uneasy laugh the injured one turned about. They heard him going up stairs, and a little later Jack followed. He found that Mark's room was not occupied.
"Hi, Mark! Where are you?" he called, in some alarm.
"Here," was the answer, and the voice came from Jack's own apartment.
"Well, you're in the wrong bunk."
"Am I? Well, I must have made another mistake. My head can't be right," and with that the other came out and hastily went into the adjoining apartment.
For a moment Jack stood in the hall. He looked at the door that had closed behind the bandaged figure.
"There's something wrong," said Jack in a low voice. "How strange Mark acts! I wonder what can be the matter?"
There were busy times for the moon-voyagers the next day. They were up early, for at the last moment many little details needed to be settled. The Cardite motor had been thoroughly repaired, for the damage caused by the unknown enemy had done no permanent harm.
When the injured one appeared the bandage on his head seemed larger than ever, and his features were almost hidden. He still wore his arm in a sling.
"Well, how do you feel?" asked Jack, looking narrowly at the figure. He could not get rid of a suspicion that something was wrong with Mark.
"Oh, I'm feeling pretty fair," was the mumbled answer. "I didn't sleep much, though."
"Well, take care of yourself," advised Jack. "We are about ready to start. We'll get off about noon, Professor Henderson says. Don't try to do anything and injure your broken arm. You certainly had a tough time of it."
"Yes, I guess I did. I can't do much to help you."
"You don't need to. We're all but finished. Just hang around and watch me work. There isn't much to do."
But though Jack gave an invitation to remain near him, the other seemed to prefer being off by himself. He wandered in and out of the projectile, now and then helping Andy or Washington to carry light objects into theAnnihilator. But all the while he was careful not to disturb the bandage on his face, and several times he stopped to readjust it. Nor did he talk much, which Jack ascribed to his statement that his teeth hurt him. And when the bandaged figure did speak, it was in mumbling tones, very different from Mark's usually cheerful ones.
"Well," remarked Professor Roumann, after a final inspection of the bigCardite motor—the one that was to be depended on to carry them to themoon—"I think we are about ready to leave this earth. How about it,Professor Henderson?"
"Yes, I think so. Have you made any calculation as to speed?"
"Yes, we will not have to move nearly as fast as we did when we went to Mars. We only have to cover a quarter of a million of miles at the most, and probably less than that. The motor will send us along at the rate of about a mile a second, which is three thousand six hundred miles an hour, or eighty-six thousand four hundred miles a—day. At that rate we would be at the moon in less than three days.
"But I don't want to travel as fast as that," the German went on. "I want time to make some scientific observations on the way, and so I have reduced the speed of the Cardite motor by half, though should we need to hasten our trip we can do so."
"Then we'll be about a week on the way?" asked Jack.
"About that, yes," assented Mr. Roumann.
"And could we go farther than to the moon if we wanted to?" inquired the bandaged figure mumblingly.
"Farther? What do you mean?" asked Professor Henderson quickly.
"I mean could we go to Mars if we wanted to?"
"You don't mean to say you want to go back there, and run the chance of being attacked by the savage Martians, do you?" asked Jack.
"No, I was only asking," and the other seemed confused.
"Well, of course, wecouldgo there, as we have plenty of supplies and enough of the Cardite," said Mr. Roumann. "But I think the moon will be the limit of our trip this time."
The work went on, the last things to be put aboard the projectile being a number of scientific instruments. The injured one wandered in and out, now being in the house and again in the big shed. He seemed restless and ill at ease, and frequently he walked to the front gate and gazed down the road.
"You seem to be looking for some one," spoke Jack. "Are you expecting your girl to come along and bid you good-by, Mark?"
"Who—me? No, I—I was just looking to see if—if it was going to rain."
"Rain? Well, rain won't make much difference to us soon. We will be outside of the earth's atmosphere in a jiffy after we have started, and then rain won't worry us. Is your stateroom all fixed up?"
"No, I didn't think of that. Guess I'd better look after it."
The two started together for the projectile. The stout one entered first, and made his way through the engine room and main cabin to the compartment off which the staterooms opened. He entered one.
"Here, that's not yours," cried Jack. "That's where Professor Henderson sleeps. Yours is next to mine."
"That's right; I forgot," mumbled the other. "I must be getting absent minded since my accident. But I'll be all right soon. I'll get my room to rights, and then probably we'll start."
"I guess so," answered Jack, but he shook his head as he gazed after his chum. "Mark has certainly changed," he murmured. "I wish he'd take those bandages off, so I could get a look at his face."
The last details were completed. The bigAnnihilatorhad been run out on trucks into the yard surrounding the shed, ready to be hurled through the air. The shop, shed and house had been locked up and given in charge of a caretaker, who would remain on guard until our friends returned.
"Are we all ready?" asked Professor Henderson, as he stood ready to close the main entrance door and seal it hermetically.
"All ready, I guess," answered Jack. The stout one had gone to his stateroom, where he could be heard moving about.
"I'm ready," announced Professor Roumann. "Say the word and I'll start the motor." He was in the engine room, looking over the machinery. At that moment there came a loud yell from the galley where Washington White was.
"Heah, heah! Come back!" cried the colored man. "My Shanghai rooster is got loose!" he yelled, and, an instant later, the fowl came sailing out of the projectile, with Washington in full chase after him.
"I'll help you catch him," volunteered Jack, springing to the cook's aid, while Professor Henderson laughed, and a bandaged figure, looking from a stateroom port, wondered at the delay in starting the projectile.
Mark Sampson was alone in the deserted house. Bound hand and foot, stripped of his clothing, and attired in some old garments that the tramps who made a hanging-out place of the old mansion had cast aside, the unfortunate lad was stretched on a pile of bagging, his heart beating partly with fear and partly with rage over a desire to escape and punish the scoundrel responsible for his plight.
The man who had captured him, after taking away Mark's clothes, had chuckled, as though at some joke.
"You may think this is funny," spoke the lad bitterly, "but you won't be so pleased when my friends get after you."
"They'll never get after me," boasted the man. "This is a good joke. To think that I can pass myself off as you; that I can join them in the projectile, and they never will be the wiser!"
"They'll soon discover that you are disguised as me," declared Mark, "and when they do they'll have you arrested."
"Yes, but they'll not discover it until we have left the earth, and are on our way to the moon. Then it will be too late to turn back, and my object will have been accomplished. I will be with them in theAnnihilator, and I'll have my revenge! The projectile is due to sail to-morrow, and I'll be on hand. I'm going to leave you now. I have left orders with a friend of mine that you are to be released to-morrow night. In the meanwhile you will have to be as comfortable as you can. I wish you no harm, but I must keep you here.
"I will feed you well before I go, and put some water where you can get it. But I must leave you tied. I'll not gag you, for, no matter how you yell, no one will hear you. I have posted a notice in front of this place that it is under the watch of the police, so no tramps will venture in, and your friends will not come back.
"Now, just make yourself comfortable here, and I'll go to the moon in your place. I think I shall enjoy the trip. As I said, you will be released to-morrow night, several hours after the projectile has left the earth."
"How do you know it is to start to-morrow morning?" asked Mark.
"Oh, I have been spying around, and I overheard the professors talking.I know a thing or two, and I'll be on hand, on time, in your place!Now, I have to leave you. I've left ten dollars to pay for your suit,which I need to disguise myself with."
Then the man was gone, and Mark was left with his bitter thoughts to keep him company. The whole daring scheme of the man had been revealed. He did look something like Mark, and, attired in the lad's clothes, and by keeping his face concealed, he might pass himself off as Jack's chum; at least, until after the projectile had started.
"And then, as he says, it will be too late to return to earth and get me," thought Mark bitterly. "Oh, why did I ever try to learn this man's secret? Who is he, anyhow? Why didn't I wait for Jack at the barn, as I promised? It's all my fault. I wonder if I can't get loose?"
Mark struggled several hours desperately and at last he felt the ropes giving slightly. He redoubled his efforts. Strand by strand the cords parted. He put all his efforts into one last attempt, and to his great joy he felt his hands separate. He was partly free!
But scarcely half his task was accomplished. He had yet to discover the secret of the hidden room—a room, as he afterward learned, which had been built during slavery days to conceal the poor black men who were escaping from the South.
"But now I have my hands to work with!" exulted Mark.
Resting a bit after his strenuous labors, he took a long drink of water and attacked the ropes on his feet. They were comparatively easy to loosen, and soon he stood up unbound.
"Now for the secret panel!" he exclaimed, for he was convinced that it was by some such means that his captor had entered and left. As has already been explained, Mark knew on which side of his prison the opening was likely to be—it would be where the warning knocks had sounded. He began a minute inspection of that wall.
But if Mark hoped to speedily discover the secret he was doomed to disappointment. He went over every inch of the surface, seemingly, and pressed on every depression or projection that met his eye, as he passed the candle flame along the wall.
Success did not reward him, and, as hour after hour passed, and the candle burned lower and lower, Mark began to despair.
"I must escape before the projectile leaves," he murmured. "It will never do to let them take that man with them under the impression that they have me. I must escape! I will!"
Once more he began the tiresome task of seeking the secret spring. The candle was spluttering in the socket now. It would burn hardly another minute. Desperately Mark sought.
At last, just as the candle gave a dying gasp and flared brightly up prior to going out, the lad saw a small screw head he had not noticed before. It was sunk deep in a board.
"I'll press that and see what happens!" he exclaimed.
With a suddenness that was startling, he found himself in total darkness. The candle had burned out, but he had his finger on the screw. He pressed it with all his force.
There was a rumbling sound in the darkness, a movement as if some heavy body had slid out of the way, and Mark felt a breath of air on his cheeks. Then he saw a dim light.
"Oh, I'm out! I'm out!" he cried joyously, breathing a prayer of thankfulness at his deliverance. "I'm free! I pushed on the right spring, and the panel slid back!"
He fairly leaped forward. The morning light was streaming in through the broken windows. He saw himself in the old hall of the mansion, at the head of the stairs, in a sort of anteroom, the mantle of which apartment had swung aside to give him egress from the secret chamber through a hole in the wall. He was free!
"But am I in time?" he cried. "It is morning—and about ten o'clock, I should judge. I've been working to get free all night. Will I be in time?"
He gave one last look behind at his prison and sprang down the rickety stairs. He had but one thought—to reach home in time to unmask the villain who was impersonating him—to be in time to make the journey to the moon.
"But it's several miles, and I can't walk very fast," murmured Mark."I'm too stiff and weak. How can I do it?"
He thought of making his way to the nearest farm house, and asking for the loan of a horse and carriage, but he looked so much like a tramp that no farmer would lend him a horse.
"And I need to make speed," he murmured.
At that moment he heard a noise down the road. It was a steady "chug-chug," like some distant motor-boat, but there was no water near at hand.
"A motorcycle!" exclaimed Mark. "Some one is coming on a motorcycle.Oh, if I could only borrow it!"
He ran down into the road. He could see the rider now. To his joy it was Dick Johnson—the lad who had brought him the mysterious note.
"Hi Dick! Dick! hold on!" cried Mark.
The lad on the motor gave one glance at the ragged figure that had hailed him. Then he turned on more power to escape from what he thought was a savage tramp.
"Wait! Stop! I want that motorcycle!" cried Mark.
"Well, you're not going to get it!" yelled back Dick. "I'll send the police after you."
Mark couldn't understand. Then a glance down at his ragged garments showed him what was the matter.
"Wait! Hold on, Dick!" he cried, running forward. "I'm Mark Sampson! I've had a terrible time! I was captured by that mysterious man, and he's got my clothes. I must get home quick!"
Dick heard, but scarcely understood. However, he comprehended that his friend was in trouble, and he wanted to help him. He slowed up, and Mark reached him.
"Lend me your motorcycle, Dick," begged Mark. "I must get home in a hurry to unmask a scoundrel. I'll leave your machine for you at our house. I won't hurt it. I'm in a hurry! Get off!"
Somewhat dazed, Dick dismounted, and Mark climbed into the saddle. He began to pedal, and then threw in the gasolene and spark. The cycle chugged off.
"I'll leave it for you at our house," Mark called back. "I'm going on a trip to the moon, and I don't want to be late."
He was fast disappearing in a cloud of dust, while Dick, gazing after him, remarked:
"Well, I always thought those fellows were crazy to go off in projectiles and things like that, and now I'm sure of it. Going to the moon! Well, I only hope he doesn't take my motorcycle there!"
Mark sped on, turning the handle levers to get the last notch of speed out of the cycle. Would he be in time?
Perhaps Washington White's Shanghai rooster did not care to make the trip to the moon, or perhaps the fowl had not yet seen enough of this earth. At any rate, when he flew from the projectile, uttering loud crows, and landed some distance away, he began to run back toward the coop 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 it difficult 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 main cabin.
But the figure, whose hand was done up in voluminous bandages, did not come out, and Jack wondered the more at what he thought was a growing strangeness 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 the wrong time. Why don't they go on without that confounded rooster? If we stay here too long, that fellow Mark may get loose and spoil the whole thing, or Jenkins may go and release him before the time set. It would be just like Jenkins! I've a good notion to start the projectile myself. I know how to operate the Cardite motor. Only I suppose those two professors are on guard in the engine room. I'll have to wait until they 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, evidently now much exhausted, ran into another fence corner, where Jack caught him, and shut him up in the coop in the projectile.
"Yo' suttinly am de mos' contrary-minded specimen ob de chicken fambly dat I eber seed," observed Washington, breathing heavily, for his run had winded him.
"Well, are we all ready to start now?" asked Professor Henderson. "No more 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. All ready for the moon trip!"
Jack was pulling the steel portal toward him. An eager face, peering from a port, waited anxiously for the tremor which would indicate that the projectile had left the earth. In another moment they would be off.
But what was that sound coming from down the highway. A steady chug-chug—a sort of roar, as of a battery of rapid-fire guns going off in double relays! And, mingled with the explosions, there was a voice shouting:
"Wait! Hold on! Don't go without me! I'm Mark Sampson! Don't start the projectile!"
"Somebody must be in a mighty hurry on a motorcycle," thought Jack, as he paused a moment before fastening the door. Then the shouts came to his ears.
"Mark Sampson!" he cried.
Again came the cry: "Wait! Wait! Don't go without me! You've got that mysterious man on board!"
"Mark Sampson!" murmured Jack again. "That's his voice sure enough! I wonder—can it be possible—that man—with his head all bandaged up—his queer actions—I—I——"
Words failed the youth. Throwing wide open the door, he sprang out of the projectile. A moment later there dashed into the yard, where the great projectile rested, a strange figure astride of a puffing motorcycle. The figure was torn and, ragged, and the nondescript garments were covered with dust, for Mark had had a fall. But there was no mistaking the face that peered eagerly forward.
"Jack!" cried the youth on the machine.
"Mark!" ejaculated the lad who had sprung from the projectile. "What has happened? Who is the fellow who has been masquerading as you?"
"A scoundrel and a villain! Let me get at him!" and, slamming on the brakes, 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 of theAnnihilator. "What does that tramp want, Jack? Give him some money, and get back in here; we ought to have started long ago." He looked 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 the mysterious man? Oh, I'm glad I arrived in time! Were you about to start?"
"That's what we were," replied Jack. "Oh, Mark, but I'm glad to see you again! 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 the doorway, 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 as me!" shouted Mark. "Lock him up! There's some mystery about him that must be explained. He's a dangerous man to be at large."
Professor Henderson turned back to enter the projectile. Jack advised Andy to get his gun ready, with which to threaten the scoundrel in case of necessity.
At that instant there sounded a crash of glass, and the whole front of the big observation window in the side of theAnnihilatorwas smashed to atoms. A figure leaped—a figure which no longer had its head bandaged, and whose arm was no longer in a sling—the figure of a man—the mysterious man who had held Mark a prisoner!
"There he goes!" shouted Jack. "Catch him, somebody! Andy, where's your gun?"
"I'll have it in a jiffy!" cried the hunter, as he dashed back to get it.
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 a sledge hammer as soon as he understood that his game was up, he raced out of the yard. He turned long enough to shake his fist at the group assembled around the projectile, and then leaped away, calling out some words 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 to unmask him," said Professor Henderson. "He might harm you if you took after him. Let him go. He has not done much damage. We can easily replace the broken window. But I can't understand what his object was in 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 prisoner of the deserted house.
"But why?" insisted Jack.
"Because, I think, he's crazy, and he didn't really know what he did want. But he certainly had me well concealed," spoke Mark. "I'm free now, however, and as soon as I get some decent clothes on I'll go with you to the moon. I wouldn't want the moon people to see me dressed this way."
"How did it happen?" asked Jack. "Tell us all about it. My! but I certainly have been puzzled since you—or rather since the person we thought 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." Andy Sudds came out with his gun, and insisted on taking a look down the road and around the premises. The man was nowhere in sight.
"Now we're in for another delay," remarked Jack ruefully, as he gazed at the smashed window. "It seems as if we'd never get started for the moon."
"Oh, yes, we will," declared Professor Henderson. "We have some extra heavy plate glass in the shop, and we can soon put in another observation 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 get revenge on us for some fancied wrong. I can't imagine who he is. But let's work and talk at the same time. I'll tell you all that happened to me," which he did briefly.
Mark soon got rid of the tramp clothes, and donned an extra suit which had been packed in his trunk in the projectile. Then he helped replace the broken window, which, in spite of their haste, took nearly all the rest of the day to put in place.