Lost on the Moon Part 8
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"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 a.s.sured 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 rus.h.i.+ng 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 b.u.t.ting 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.
"h.e.l.lo, 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 Was.h.i.+ngton White.
"h.e.l.lo, Was.h.!.+" greeted the lad.
"Good land a' ma.s.sy! 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?" asked Jack.
"Dat's 'zackly what I means, Ma.s.sa Jack."
"Then why don't you say it?"
"I done did. Dat's what I done. Supper's cold. But where am Ma.s.sa Mark?"
"What! Isn't Mark home?" cried Jack, starting back in alarm.
"No, Ma.s.sa 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 Ma.s.sa Roumann."
With fear in his heart Jack dashed out toward the big shed.
"Ain't yo' goin' t' hab some supper?" called Was.h.i.+ngton.
"I don't want any supper--yet," flung back Jack over his shoulder.
Lost on the Moon Part 8
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Lost on the Moon Part 8 summary
You're reading Lost on the Moon Part 8. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Roy Rockwood already has 593 views.
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