"You needn't be, Washington," said Mr. Henderson kindly. "We will be perfectly safe in the Annihilator, and when we get to Mars I am sure you will like it there."
"I've got to, wedder I does or not," said Washington simply. "Well, t' t'ink ob me seein' dis work goin' on, day after day, an' me nebber suspectin' dat yo' was goin' on sech a transmigatory flight in de direction ob an interplanetary sphere what transmits effulgent rays transversely an' pyritiferilously changes 'em inter crimson light most advantageously."
"I guess you're all right now, after getting that out of your system," observed Mark.
It was two days after this that Jack and Mark, who were working in the shop with Mr. Roumann, suddenly heard him utter a cry.
"Has anything happened?" called Jack, dropping his tools and hastening to the engine–room, where the scientist was.
"Yes!" cried the German.
"What?"
He was pacing rapidly up and down the contracted space, waving a piece of metal above his head. Jack thought he might have hurt himself.
"I have discovered what was the matter with my Etherium motor!" exclaimed Mr. Roumann. "I didn't bend this piece of metal properly. That was why the machine did not work satisfactorily. Now it is all right. We can start in a week."
"That's good!" said Mark, who had joined his chum. "Are you sure it will work now, Mr. Roumann?"