"You must remember, Livingston," Henry interrupted, "that the Martians may be centuries in advance of us in many ways. Granting that they are, may we not assume that they could invent a gun of some unusual, or unknown style, that could shoot a rocket into space, beyond the gravitational pull of their planet, which is not so strong as ours?"
"Anyway, that's one way we can theorize," I said, "whether it's true or not."
"Grant anything or not," McGinity said to me, "you heard that radio message from Mars last night, announcing that such a rocket, or 'ship,' had been launched earthwards, and later, you saw the explosion in the sky right over this spot, which undoubtedly marked the fall of this rocket."
I nodded. "Yes; and it's absurd on the face of things, I'll admit, not to believe my ears and eyes." And then I committed myself. "I'm darned if I know what this thing is—or where it came from," I asserted, "but here it is, and I'll agree to anything you and Henry say."
"All right—good!" said Henry, slapping me on the back. "Now, we are all agreed on this. We are three witnesses, then, on whose testimony will hang the credulity of the world."
"Anyway, nobody can accuse me of cooking up a story," McGinity remarked, as we retraced our steps.
XIV
Returning to the rocket, we found that the problem of getting the strange passenger out of it had been solved by the foreman of the estate, a very ingenious and alert young man. Without the slightest indication of fear, he had passed a strong rope under the arms of the creature, padding the rope where it touched the body, as a protective measure against injury. Outside, he had rigged up a small derrick. His idea was to hoist the passenger by the shoulders, through the opening in the rocket.
One of the chauffeurs had brought a stretcher and some blankets from the garage in the car. Everything was set for the performance when I heard Henry murmur: "The providence of heaven for this rocket to land here!"