"That ought to bring us there inside of a week," announced Mr.
Henderson, as he fastened the automatic steering apparatus in place.
"The projectile will now be held on a straight course, and I hope we
shall not have to change it."
"Could anything cause us to swerve to one side?" asked Jack.
"Sure," replied Mark. "Don't you remember how, in the trip to Mars, we nearly collided with the comet? If we are in danger of hitting another one of those things, or even a meteor, we'll steer out of the way, won't we?"
"Of course. I forgot about that," admitted Jack.
"Yes," declared Professor Roumann, "we'll have to be on the lookout for wandering meteors or other stray heavenly bodies. But our instruments will give us timely warning of them. Now, I think we can leave the projectile to herself while I make sure that all the machinery is running smoothly. You boys may stay here if you like, though there isn't much to see."
There wasn't. It was totally unlike taking a trip on earth, where the ever-varying scenery makes a journey pleasant. There was no landscape to greet the eye now. It was even unlike a trip in a balloon, for in that sort of air-craft, at least for a time, a glimpse of the earth can be had. Now there was nothing but a white blanket of mist to be seen, which rolled this way and that. Occasionally it was dispelled, and the full, golden sunlight bathed the projectile. The earth had long since dropped out of sight, for it required only a few seconds to put the Annihilator high up in a position where even the most intrepid balloonist had never ventured.
Mark and Jack sat for a few minutes in the pilot-house, looking out into the ether. But they soon tired of seeing absolutely nothing.
"I wonder what we'll do when we get to the moon?" asked Jack of his chum.
"Why, I suppose you'll make a dive for a hatful of diamonds, won't you?
That is, if you still believe that Martian newspaper account."
"I sure do."