The telescope was next turned upon the planet Mars. Norman Redfern spoke quite like a professor addressing his class.
“Mars is now about as near as it ever gets to be,” he said. “Put it down at about thirty-five million miles, and you’ll be very nearly correct. The so-called canals were discovered by an Italian astronomer named Schiaparelli.”
“My, but you talk like a book,” said Joe, a little awed.
“I can’t see those canals,” remarked Aleck, with his eye to the tube. “Doesn’t look like anything more than a little round dot.”
“Very likely not,” said Redfern, dryly. “It requires a powerful telescope. At Flagstaff, Arizona, the astronomers have made many photographs of the planet, and on these the faint lines are distinguishable.”
“Mighty interesting,” murmured Jack. “Canals, eh? You mean somebody dug them?”
Redfern smiled. “Well, that’s what is claimed,” he said. “But I’m bound to say not all the astronomers believe it, yet. I can get some books that tell all about it, if you like.”
“Say, will you?” exclaimed Fred. “I’d like to know about that.”
Jupiter, with its four moons, the boys found better suited to the power of their telescope. The disc was large enough to show a faint dark line crossing it, while the satellites were strung out all on one side, like a row of tiny stars.
Of course, Saturn came in for a share of their attention, and although its rings were visible as nothing more than an extremely small oval, they found it decidedly interesting.