"Oh, I understand you, all right," said Jack, "but I thought you
meant some one was gettin in the machine shop."
"No, dere ain't been no one dere, but I was skeered dat somebody
was after mah chickens, but I guess it were only a rat. I'll go
back an stay on guard now."
"No, you'd better go to bed," decided Jack. "Mark and I will
finish out the night."
"All right," agreed Washington, who, to tell the truth, was getting
sleepy.
There were no further disturbances, and Mark and Jack found their
tour of duty rather lonesome.
"Well, I suppose we'll start in a day or so," marked Jack, as
they paced about the big shed which housed the great projectile.
"Yes. The motor seems to be in good working order again. But
say, I've just thought of something."
"What?"
"Suppose something should happen to Mr. Roumann or to the motor
while we were half way to Mars? I mean, suppose he should die,
why, we wouldn't know how to stop the motor, and we might keep on
going forever."
"Oh, I guess he'll tell the professor enough about it so that in
case anything happened we could start it or stop it.
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