THE CRUISE OF THE SKYROCKET

"Are you sure it's all right this time, Uncle Billy? And will it take us straight to Mars?" Tightening the strap on his leather helmet, the boy looked up at the tall man who was going over, for the last time, the strange craft that was to carry them on an exploration of the sky.

"Well," answered the tall man, wiping his hands on a piece of waste, "it may not take us straight, Speedy, but we'll get there somehow. I've calculated the distance down to the last inch, and if I can keep her pointed straight up and northward we'll be on Mars by to-morrow morning. I'm not sure yet that I ought to take you, but on the other hand, I don't see how I can leave you behind."

"Neither do I." Speedy spoke with feeling and finality. "You're the only one I've got, and I'm the only one you've got, so we'd better stick together, don't you think?" Uncle Billy nodded soberly, for Speedy was an orphan and had lived with him since he was a little fellow of two. The boy's real name was Bill, but his quickness on the track and baseball field had earned him the nickname of Speedy. At ten he was such a good chum and so helpful with Uncle Billy's inventions that the great scientist could not bear to leave him behind on this, the most important of his undertakings.

"It isn't as if there was any real danger," he mused, tapping the steel sides of the torpedo. "In this we'll be as safe as if we were on a trolley car."

"Safer!" exclaimed Speedy scornfully. "Oh, come on, Uncle Billy, set her off! I can hardly wait!" It was a bright, clear May morning, the weather and wind conditions just right, and Uncle Billy, as eager as Speedy to be off, helped the boy into the back seat and prepared to light the fuse that would send them skyward. The Skyrocket, as you've probably guessed, was a flying torpedo, and the explosion of the rocket attached to the tail would carry them straight and swiftly to the stars.

"Now then," puffed Uncle Billy, with a quick glance at the Skyrocket's gears and brakes. "Remember! As soon as I jump in, slam down the top and slide the bolts. And if anything should happen, though of course it won't, pull the lever on your right. That will release the parashuter. Press the button in the parashuter and it will carry you safely down to earth. All ready?"

Speedy nodded, clutching both sides of the leather seat, tense with excitement. He could hear the hiss and sputter as the electric lighter touched the fuse of the rocket. In one second more Uncle Billy would be in the driver's seat, the steel re-enforced lid of the torpedo ship would be down, the oxygen sprays, to keep them in comfort during the long trip, would start, and they would be off like a flash on their journey through the air. With a tremulous gasp, Speedy looked over his shoulder. As he did, there came a terrific jolt, and with an ear splitting explosion the Skyrocket shot up toward the clouds. But Uncle Billy! Where in heck was Uncle Billy? Almost torn from his seat by the force of the start, Speedy looked desperately downward; then, as the wind ripped and tore past his head, he slammed the top of the torpedo and jumped into the front seat.

Uncle Billy had not been quick enough. Uncle Billy had been left behind. Forgetting all about the parashuter, forgetting everything except that he was tearing through space at a terrific rate toward a strange and undiscovered world, the boy grasped the steering wheel and gave it a sharp twist. His one thought was to get back to earth and pick up his uncle. With a sickening swerve the Skyrocket turned and sped downward so swiftly that Speedy, with his face glued to the thick glass window, could see nothing but a flying blur. A flash of green told him they were nearing earth, a tiny figure wildly waving its arms became visible, but only for the fraction of a second; then, with a frightful impact, the Skyrocket hit the flying field back of Speedy's Long Island home, broke through, and bored its way tumultuously downward, down through the dark, pathless depths of the underearth! The splintering crash of the torpedo, as it ripped and tore through roots, rocks, and metal, almost deafened the boy, and the violent vibration made him faint and dizzy. Mechanically he grasped the wheel and despairingly wondered what would ever become of him. Too late he realized that the torpedo could not be stopped until the force of the rocket was spent. Why hadn't he jumped with the parashuter, as soon as he discovered that Uncle Billy was not aboard? It was pitch-dark inside, and as the roar of the Skyrocket grew louder Speedy touched an electric button. The cheery glow of the small lamps in the ceiling comforted him a little, but the vicious shake and rumble of the car made thinking almost impossible. Snake-like roots flashed past the window and snapped against the glass. Through rock strata streaked with gold, copper, coal, and silver, the Skyrocket splintered a pathway, and once they dove into a boiling mass of lava; the steel walls of the ship grew so hot that Speedy gave himself up for lost, but as the heat grew unbearable they plunged with a hiss into a deep, oily, underground sea filled with phosphorescent fish and terrifying monsters. Crouched behind the wheel, poor Speedy gasped, blinked, and shuddered. Would he go straight through the earth and drop out into nothingness on the other side? But just then the Skyrocket hit a particularly impervious piece of rock, and the ship gave such a bounce and backward leap that Speedy was flung out of the seat and knocked quite senseless. How long or how far he traveled in this helpless condition he never did discover; in fact he knew nothing at all till loud hammers and thumps on the outside of the torpedo finally aroused him. Surprised to find himself alive at all, he sat up and looked uncertainly around. The Skyrocket had really stopped. Strange square faces peered in through the window and motioned to him through the glass. Where on earth was he? Was he on the earth at all? Doubtfully Speedy stared up at the strangers; then, as the supply of oxygen was exhausted, and the air inside hot and stifling, he rose unsteadily, threw back the bolt and lifted up the top of the torpedo. Looking down into the faces of the curious crowd surrounding the Skyrocket, he wondered what Uncle Billy would do in such a situation. But the strangers stared so hard and so unblinkingly that he could think of nothing more remarkable than, "Where am I?" This question, spoken in his ordinary tone of voice, burst like three sharp explosions on the quiet air, echoing and reverberating till the crowd covered their ears and fell away from him in terror.

Astonished at the loudness of his own voice, Speedy swayed backwards himself. Then, as he was debating whether to stay in the ship or to alight and try to find out where he was, a little square-faced fellow separated himself from his companions and slowly approached him. He had scribbled something on a card, and handing the card to Speedy he hastily scuttled back to his place.

"Lower your voice," directed the card in a nervous scrawl. "You are in Subterranea." Very much relieved to find he could understand the language of this odd race of underearth dwellers, Speedy nodded to show that he understood, and rather timidly the Subterraneans began to draw nearer. They were undersized, thin and undernourished little fellows, but dressed with great magnificence in metal-cloth robes, tall, stiff headdresses and shoes of pure gold, decorated with precious stones. Their square, not unpleasant faces were almost granite in color and though not of stone, seemed hard and mummy-like. Probably from this queer air and no sun, decided Speedy, staring at them with frank curiosity, and beginning to think that Subterranea might prove almost as interesting as Mars.

The Skyrocket had come to a stop in the public square of this quaint underground city. Crooked pillars of irregular rock held up the blue stone sky in which the torpedo had cut a terrible gash. Radium stars in the sky sent out a misty phosphorescent glow. From the square, arched passageways branched out in every direction, not unlike the subways at home, except that they were much higher and lighter, beautifully tiled, and decorated with precious stones. Speedy was about to whisper a question, when a loud trumpet blast made him turn quickly to the left.

"The Shah!" hissed the square faces impressively. "His Imperial Lowness, the Shah!" And waving their arms they bent down all together, like a field of wheat swept by a sudden wind. Wide-eyed with interest, Speedy saw an important little man dressed all in cloth of gold, with a headdress at least a yard high. He was seated cross-legged on a giant blue earthworm. It was as large and ugly as a sea serpent and its center section was raised to form a comfortable seat for the queer little monarch. On either side walked gorgeously attired attendants waving metal flags. As the great earthworm came to a stop, the Shah glanced inquiringly at Speedy, next up at the hole in the sky, and then, leaning down, took from the slave at his right a large mask and held it up to his face. The mask wore a ferocious scowl and Speedy began to feel rather uncomfortable.

"Oh pshaw, Shah!" he whispered in an embarrassed wheeze, "how could I help breaking through the roof?" Instead of answering, the Shah clapped his hands twice and handed the mask back to the slave. Now out stepped a stiff little Subterranean, whom Speedy quite rightly guessed to be the Chief Counsellor of the Shah. He seemed also to be a rhymer of no mean ability, and in low rapid verses began to drone out the following:

"The Shah! The Shah! Of SubterraneAH! In the tenth year of his splendid subter reign; And whom the Shah displeases, his Headman quickly seizes And hurls instanter from the Shah's domain! I'm his Headman, as you see, all his subjects bow to me, My name is Rhomba, see that you attend, Why have you come at all? Did you fly or jump or fall, Are you interloper, enemy, or friend?"

"Friend," answered Speedy in a low voice, and chuckling in spite of himself. But his answer did not seem to appease his Imperial Lowness at all. Looking again at the hole in his sky, he took up the frowning mask and turned it again toward the boy.

"Gosh!" thought Speedy uneasily, "I've certainly got to do some tall explaining; now what in Sam Hill shall I tell them?" All the little men were staring at him expectantly, and the one who had given him the card whispered aside to the monarch.

"I think, from his high voice, he must be one of those Upperdwellers."

"Speak, Upperdweller," hissed Rhomba, while the Shah changed his frowning mask for one whose blank expression upset Speedy even more than the frown. But remembering that he was the nephew of a famous scientist, and the holder of several records for high jumps and track events, he pulled himself together and in a calm whisper explained how the Skyrocket, in which he and Uncle Billy had intended to explore the sky, had gone off without the inventor; how he had turned the ship downward and crashed through to the center of the earth and landed in Subterranea through no intention or fault of his own. During this recital the Shah changed his mask twice. The first showed faint surprise, but the mask held up and slightly awry as Speedy finished his story was frankly yawning. Smothering his resentment at such treatment, Speedy went on hurriedly, "You see, if Uncle Billy had just been a little quicker, we'd have gone up instead of down and I'd never have come here at all. It was just a mix-up," he concluded earnestly.

"Mix-down," corrected Rhomba severely, as the Shah shook his head to show that the explanation was not satisfactory. Then, making several strange signals to his Headman, he tapped the earthworm with his heels and moved grandly and unconcernedly out of the square.

"Well?" inquired Speedy in a defiant whisper, as the Shah disappeared down a long, dim, blue tunnel.

"He doubts the truth of all you say; But mend the sky and you can stay And work upon the realm's defences-- If not, you'll take the consequences!"

"And what are the consequences?" asked Speedy in a faint voice, for he had no desire to work for this crude little King.

"Well," answered Rhomba, with a careless wave of his hand, "we usually throw lawbreakers to the fire fish in Lava Lake, and I suppose sky breakers might be called lawbreakers, too."

"Lava Lake!" exclaimed Speedy, beginning to feel downright frightened. "But see here, how am I going to mend a great jagged hole like that? Why, I can't even reach it!" In his indignation he forgot to whisper, and at the terrible racket made by his voice the Subterraneans took to their gold heels. That is, all except Rhomba, who seemed to feel it his duty to remain.

"That's your affair," he muttered indifferently. "You broke the sky--now mend it!" Switching his stiff robes from side to side, the Shah's Chief Headman followed the others, leaving Speedy all alone in the center of the square. His first impulse was to run, but a short dash down one of the tiled passageways convinced him that he would be lost in no time. Every few yards it turned and twisted and was intersected by other tunnels, and a body might as well have hoped to find his way out of a labyrinth. Picking his way slowly back to the square, Speedy was surprised to see one of the Shah's subjects sitting on a green bench near the Skyrocket.

"My name is Zunda," whispered the little fellow, coming eagerly toward Speedy. "Perhaps I can help you, but I beg of you not to shout. It is so--so shattering. Tell me," he continued, before Speedy had time to say a word, "did you see anything of the other Underground Kingdoms on your way down? I have never traveled myself and am curious to know all."

"Are there other Kingdoms?" asked Speedy in a depressed whisper. "I only saw a lot of roots, rocks, underground seas, and lava. Are there more countries down here?"

"Oh, yes! Yes, indeed!" And clutching Speedy's arm, Zunda began to drone out like a schoolboy reciting a lesson: "The Underworld is divided into nine levels. First there is Neath and Underneath; then Low and Below. After that come Down, Upsidedown, Farther Down and Allthewaydown. Then Subterranea. We're about as low as you can get," he finished boastfully.

"Yes?" murmured Speedy, trying to appear interested. "But don't you think we'd better talk about mending this hole in the sky?"

"What's the use of talking about that?" answered Zunda, with a little shrug. "It just can't be done. Now do tell me something about Upsidedown. I hear the earthscrapers there are forty feet low."

"How long will it be before--before----"

"Before you're thrown to the fire fish? Oh, not till to-morrow morning," Zunda assured him cheerfully. "That will give you time to see our city, the underwood and----"

"_Stop!_ Isn't there any way out of here?" Seizing the little Subterranean by both shoulders, Speedy gave him a desperate shake. Zunda blinked but shook his head negatively. Speedy looked gloomily up at the great rent overhead, but climbing the stone pillars was perfectly impossible. The return rocket on the torpedo had been lost on the wild downward flight, and it did seem as if he never would escape from this queer and eerie Kingdom under the earth.

"Oh, come along," urged Zunda comfortably under his breath. "You may as well see all you can before----before----" Feeling Speedy's violent shudder, he tactfully did not finish the sentence, but drew the little boy hurriedly across the square.