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is no good.”

 

“You forget that we have electrical cannons,” said Jack.

 

“That’s so,” added Mr. Henderson. “And it might not be a bad

plan to get, them in working order.”

 

“Nonsense!” exclaimed the German scientist. “The Martians will

never bother us. They are thinking too much about the stars, the

sun, moons and other planets—they are too intent on studying to

bother us. That is all they do—study. That’s what makes their

ears, eyes, nose and mouth so big. They use them to listen to

scientific sounds, to look at scientific objects, smell

scientific odors, and talk of scientific things. They’ll never

bother us.”

 

“Maybe not, but perhaps the crazy machinist will,” suggested

Mark.

 

“I’ll make some inquiries to-morrow, and see if the Martians know

anything of him,” promised Mr. Henderson.

 

But if the Martians knew anything of the insane man, they would

not tell. When the adventurers made cautious inquiries on the

morrow, they were only met with vacant stares from the big eyes.

 

The boys and their friends made several excursions about

Martopolis in the next week, and even traveled in the big sleds

to distant cities, which they found much the same as the one they

were in.

 

They saw no signs of the crazy machinist, and began to believe

that he had disappeared for good. They were making progress in

the Martian language, and could converse with the people. No

longer did the Martians cause the travelers to move about by the

thought force, and our friends were allowed to go here and there

as they pleased. They found traveling exceedingly easy, as their

bodies were so light.

 

They had again taken up their residence in the house in the city,

paying occasional visits to the projectile, which remained on the

soft sand where it had landed, but tilted upward, ready for a

flight.

 

One afternoon Jack and Mark, who had been out taking a walk, came

back rather hurriedly. They found Professor Henderson and Mr.

Roumann doing some scientific work, while Washington and Andy

were discussing the many strange things on Mars.

 

“Professor,” said Jack, “I think something is up.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, there’s something unusual going on. The Martians are

acting very queerly. There’s a big meeting in the glass palace,

and when we tried to go in we were stopped. Crowds in the street

kept following us, and they haven’t done that since we first

landed.”

 

“Yes,” added Mark, “and I think I saw that same man who watched

us taking the Cardite with a lot of other officers, following us,

too. And, besides, no persons here seem as friendly as they used

to. Did they, Jack?”

 

“No, indeed. I think they have discovered that we have taken some

of the red stuff, and they don’t like it.”

 

Professor Henderson and Mr. Roumann looked grave. If this was

the case, it might mean serious trouble for them all.

 

“But they’re a long while finding out that we took the stuff,”

said Andy, who listened intently to what the boys said.

 

“Maybe they knew it all the while,” suggested Jack; “but they are

so interested in scientific matters that they didn’t want to take

any action on it until now.”

 

“Well,” remarked Mr. Roumann, “whatever it is, I think we will be

safer in the projectile. Come, we will all go out there and

spend the night. We can defend ourselves in case anything

happens, though I don’t believe it will.”

 

They started at once, and there was a feeling of security when

they had clamped fast the great steel doors in the side of the

Annihilator.

 

Contrary to their fears, the night passed without incident. They

were all at breakfast the next morning, when Mark, happening to

look through a heavy plate-glass window in the living-room,

called out:

 

“Look what’s coming!”

 

They saw a vast throng of Martians advancing toward the

projectile.

 

“See who’s leading them!” called Jack. “The crazy machinist!”

CHAPTER XXIX

THE REPULSE

 

“Do you suppose they’re going to attack us?”’ asked Mr. Roumann.

 

“It looks very much like it,” answered Professor Henderson. “But

we will wait and see. Are the electric cannons in shape?”

 

“Yes, they are all ready to work. All that is necessary is to

open the ports and fire them. They will not kill, but they will

disable the Martians for a time, in case we have to use them.”

 

“I hope we’ll not have to,” said Jack. “They have been very good

to us, and I shouldn’t want to harm them.”

 

“There’s a big crowd of them,” added Mark. “I wonder how that

crazy man came to be with them?”

 

“He must be leading them against us out of revenge,” was Mr.

Henderson’s opinion. “He may have induced them to try to kill

us, and they may be very willing to do so, because we have taken

some of the Cardite.”

 

“I hope not,” murmured Mr. Roumann.

 

The throng approached nearer. In front was the insane machinist,

who was leaping about, running to and fro, and shouting at the

top of his voice. His words came faintly to those in the

projectile.

 

“They seem to have a new leader,” remarked Jack. “I understood

that the ruler, Silex Corundum, always went at the head of the

troops when there was to be a battle, but there’s a different

person now.”

 

A little in the rear of the crazy machinist was a Martian

enveloped in a scarlet cloak, which hung from his shoulders to

the ground. And fastened on his head to the golden circlet,

which seemed to be a common badge of office for all leading

Martians, was a small metal box.

 

“I believe that box has Cardite in it,” said Jack. “Maybe he’s

the keeper of all the Cardite on this planet, and he and his

soldiers have come to get it back.”

 

“They don’t look like soldiers,” commented Mark.

 

“No; but they all have some sort of weapons,” said Jack. “They

look like sticks with small boxes of Cardite on the end of them.

They must he a new kind of gun.”

 

“And probably very effective, too,” commented the professor.

“But they are evidently going to hold a parley with us. The

machinist and the Martian in the scarlet cloak are advancing

alone.”

 

The main body of Martians had come to a halt a short distance

away from the projectile, while the two strange figures, so

greatly contrasted—that of the insane man and the little

officer-advanced together.

 

“Open the window to hear what they say,” suggested Mr. Henderson,

and the German scientist did so.

 

“Hello, you in there!” called the machinist.

 

“Well, what do you want?” asked Mr. Henderson.

 

“We want you to come out and be killed. I’m going to pay you

back for all the trouble you caused me. I couldn’t wreck your

airship that you stole from me, but I’ll have my revenge now.

These little fellows will do whatever I say, and I want you to

come out and be killed.”

 

“Suppose we refuse?”

 

“Then we’ll make you! Oh, they’ve got the power to, all right.

I’m going to be their king next week, and they’ll do anything I

say. Come on out!”

 

“I’m afraid we shall have to decline,” answered the professor.

 

The machinist began a rambling talk, and the scarlet-cloaked

figure stepped forward. He spoke slowly, using simple words in

the Martian tongue, such as he knew the travelers could

understand.

 

“My name is Zun Flor,” he began. “I am the keeper of the

Cardite, and I am told by one of my assistants that you have

taken some.”

 

“Well?” asked Mr. Roumann.

 

“You must return it at once. It is against our laws for

strangers to have any of the Cardite.”

 

“But we came here to get it. We only took a little, and you have

so much.”

 

“That makes no difference. You must return it at once, and then

you must go away. We do not want you here.”

 

“Suppose we refuse?”

 

“Then you will perish! Be warned in time. Give up the Cardite,

and take your departure.”

 

“What will happen if we do not?”

 

“You and your machine shall vanish from this planet and never

more be seen. We cannot have any of our precious Cardite taken

away to another world.”

 

“We have only taken a little,” repeated Mr. Roumann. “We desire

it for scientific purposes, and as you are so fond of science,

you ought to let us keep it.”

 

“Give it back!” exclaimed Zun Flor, and he seemed to be very

angry. His big, bulging eyes flashed. “Return it to me, and all

will be forgiven.”

 

“We will not!” declared Mr. Roumann firmly.

 

“Then we shall attack you!”

 

“And we shall defend ourselves. Now, let me warn you. We have

powerful forces within this projectile. We will use them against

you and your men.”

 

“You cannot harm us,” insisted the Martian in the red cloak.

“Your machines of war will be powerless against those we have.

Be warned in time. You must choose between the Cardite and

death!”

 

“We will keep the Cardite, and we will also keep our lives!”

retorted the German.

 

He slammed the glass window shut with a bang, and locked it.

Then he closed an inner shutter of steel over it.

 

“We, can’t see what’s going on, and what they do,” objected Jack.

 

“Yes, we can,” said Mr. Roumann.

 

He pressed a lever, and a shutter made of strong steel slats,

that was on the plate-glass window of the projectile, opened.

This gave a view all about the Annihilator.

 

This done, the ports covering the muzzles of the electric cannons

were let down, and four guns, two on either side, were aimed at

the throng of Martians.

 

“They are going to fire, or something!” exclaimed Jack, as he

looked outside. “They are pointing those sticks at us!”

 

Instantly every one in the projectile felt as if a thousand pins

and needles were sticking into him.

 

“They’re discharging an electric current, or something like it,

at us!” cried Professor Henderson.

 

A moment later every one felt himself drawn against one side or

the other of the projectile, just as a magnet draws steel filings

to itself through a piece of cardboard.

 

“They’re trying to pull us through the steel sides!” cried Mark.

“I can’t move.”

 

Neither could any one else. They were stuck there like flies on

the wall.

 

“Maybe they are going to keep us here forever!” cried old Andy,

while Washington was too frightened to use any big words.

 

Mr. Roumann was near some levers. He managed to pull one, and

instantly those in the projectile felt themselves free.

 

“How did you do that?” asked Mr. Henderson.

 

“I neutralized the electric current,” explained the German. “I

anticipated that in our flight through space we might meet with

electric storms. I provided so that in such a case I could throw

a counter current of electricity all about the projectile. That

is what happened just now, though not exactly as I expected it.

I have rendered their weapons useless—at least, for the time

being.”

 

“And we can now try ours on them!” cried Jack.

 

“Exactly! Get ready to fire the electric cannons!” called Mr.

Roumann.

 

The Martians seemed to understand that something had gone wrong.

They were running about, consulting among themselves, and

pointing to the projectile. The figure in red and the machinist

were talking earnestly together.

 

“He’s probably telling them

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