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"I say, Mark, look here! There's the moon over there. We're not heading for it at all!"
"By Jove! You're right!" agreed his chum. "We're off our course!"
"We must tell Professor Henderson!" cried Jack. "I'll do it. You stay here and watch things."
A few seconds later a very much alarmed youth was rapidly talking to the two scientists, who were in the pilot-house.
"Some unknown force must have pulled us off our course," Jack was saying. "The moon is away off to one side of us."
To his surprise, instead of being alarmed, Mr. Roumann only smiled.
"It's true," insisted Jack.
"Of course, it is," agreed Mr. Henderson. "We can see it from here, Jack," and he pointed to the observation window, from which could be noticed the moon floating in the sky at the same time the sun was shining, a phenomenon which is often visible on the earth early in the morning at certain of the moon's phases.
"Will we ever get there?" asked Jack.
"Of course," replied Mr. Roumann. "You must remember, Jack, that the moon is moving at the same time we are. Had I headed the projectile for Luna, and kept it on that course, she would, by the time we reached her, been in another part of the firmament, and we would have overshot our mark. So, instead, I aimed the _Annihilator_ at a spot in the heavens where I calculated the moon would be when we arrived there.
And, if I am not mistaken, we will reach there at the same time, and drop gently down on Luna."
"Oh, is that it?" asked the lad, much relieved.
"That's it," replied Mr. Henderson. "And that's why we seem to be headed away from the moon. Her motion will bring her into the right position for us to land on when the time comes."
"Then I'd better go tell Mark," said the lad. "He's quite worried." He soon explained matters to his chum, and together they discussed the many things necessary to keep in mind when one navigates the heavens.
That day saw several thousand more miles reeled off on the journey to the moon, and that evening (or rather what corresponded to evening, for it was perpetual daylight) they began to make their preparations for landing. Their wonderful journey through s.p.a.ce was nearing an end.
"I guess that crazy Axtell fellow was only joking when he said we'd never reach the moon," ventured Jack. "Nothing has happened yet."
"Only the meteor," said Mark, "and he couldn't know about that. I guess he didn't get a chance to damage any of the machinery."
"No, we seem to be making good time," went on his chum. "I think I'll go and----"
Jack did not finish his sentence. Instead he stared at one of the instruments hanging from the walls of the engine room. It was a sort of barometer to tell their distance from the earth, and it swung to and fro like a pendulum. Now the instrument was swinging out away from the wall to which it was attached. Further and further over it inclined.
Jack felt a curious sensation. Mark put his hand to his head.
"I feel--feel dizzy!" he exclaimed. "What is the matter?"
"Something has happened," cried Jack.
The instrument swung over still more. Some tools fell from a work bench, and landed on the steel floor with a crash. The boys were staggering about the engine room, unable to maintain their balance.
There came cries of fear from the galley, where Washington White was rattling away amid his pots and pans. Andy Sudds was calling to some one, and from the pilot-house came the excited exclamations of Professors Henderson and Roumann.
"We're turning turtle!" suddenly yelled Jack. "The projectile is turning over in the air! Something has gone wrong! Perhaps this is the revenge of that crazy man!" and, as he spoke, he fell over backward, Mark following him, while the _Annihilator_ was turned completely over and seemed to be falling down into unfathomable depths.
CHAPTER XVIII
AT THE MOON
Confusion reigned aboard the _Annihilator_. It had turned completely over, and was now moving through s.p.a.ce apparently bottom side up. Of course, being cigar shaped, this did not make any difference as far as the exterior was concerned, but it did make a great difference to those within.
The occupants of the great sh.e.l.l had fallen and slid down the rounded sides of the projectile, and were now standing on what had been the ceiling. Objects that were not fast had also followed them, scattering all about, some narrowly missing hitting our friends. Of course, the machinery was now in the air, over the heads of the travellers.
This was one of the most serious phases of the accident, for the great Cardite motor was built to run while in the other position, and when it was turned upside down it immediately stopped, and the projectile, deprived of its motive power, at once began falling through s.p.a.ce.
"What has happened? What caused it?" cried Mark, as he crawled over to where Jack sat on the ceiling, with a dazed look on his face.
"I don't know. Something went wrong. Here comes Professor Henderson and Mr. Roumann. We'll ask them."
The two scientists were observed approaching from the pilot-house. They walked along what had been the ceiling, and when they came to the engine room they had to climb over the top part of the door frame.
"What's wrong?" asked Jack.
"Our center of gravity has become displaced," answered Mr. Henderson.
"The gravity machine has either broken, or some one has been tampering with it. Did either of you boys touch it?"
"No, indeed!" cried Mark, and his chum echoed his words.
"I wonder if Washington could have meddled with it?" went on the scientist.
At that moment the colored cook came along, making his way cautiously into the engine room. He was an odd sight. Bits of carrots, turnips and potatoes were in his hair, while from one ear dangled a bunch of macaroni, and his clothes were dripping wet.
"My kitchen done turned upside down on me!" wailed Washington, "an' a whole kettle ob soup emptied on my head! Oh, golly! What happened?"
The aged scientist looked toward the German. The latter was gazing up at the motionless Cardite motor over his head.
"There is but one way," he answered. "We must restore our centre of gravity to where it was before. Then the projectile will right herself."
"Can it be done?" asked Mark.
"It will be quite an undertaking, but we must attempt it. Bring some tables and chairs, so I can stand up and reach the equilibrium machine."
From where they had fallen to the ceiling, which was now the floor, Jack and Mark brought tables and chairs, and made a sort of stepladder.
On this Professor Roumann mounted, and at once began the readjusting of the centre of gravity.
It was hard work, for he had to labor with his arms stretched up in the air, and any one who has even put up pictures knows what that means.
The muscles are unaccustomed to the strain. The German scientist, though a strong man, had to rest at frequent intervals.
"We're falling rapidly," announced Jack, in a low voice, as he looked at the height gauge.
"I am doing all I can," answered Mr. Roumann. "I think I will soon be able to right the craft."
He labored desperately, but he was at a disadvantage, for the _Annihilator_ was not now moving smoothly through s.p.a.ce. With the stopping of the motor she was falling like some wobbly balloon, swaying hither and thither in the ether currents.