"Yes; it is about twice as long," answered Roumann. "But I shall tell you more about Planet--" "If you'll kindly promulgate yo'se'ves in dis disrection yo' will find sufficient condiments an' disproportionate elements to induciate a feelin' ob intense satisfactoriousness," exclaimed Washington White, poking his head in from the sleeping room compartment. "That means dinner is ready," cried Jack. "That's the stuff! Our first meal on the trip to Mars!" CHAPTER XVI THROUGH THE ETHER "What's that, Washington?" asked Mark, as the colored cook put something on the lad's plate. "It looks like chicken." "It tastes like chicken," added Jack, after making a test. "It am chicken," declared Washington. "I roasted some ob mah fowls, an' put 'em in de cold storage room. I was purty suah dere warn't any chickens on dat red planet where we're goin'." "Probably not," answered Professor Henderson. "It was a good idea, Washington. Pass me some, please." "Ain't Mr. Roumann comin' to dinnah?" "Not now," answered the scientist. "He will stay in the pilot house until I relieve him." "It seems mighty queer to be sitting down to a meal, and all the while we're shooting along at fifty miles a second," remarked Jack. "Yes; it doesn't seem as if we were moving at all," agreed Mark. Indeed, the dining-room of the Annihilator was a very comfortable place, though the space was rather contracted, due to the shape of the projectile and the necessity for carrying a great quantity of stores. The living-room served as the place for serving the meals, which were prepared in a sort of galley or kitchen off the engine-room. "It's like eating in a dining-car on a railroad train," observed Andy Sudds, "only it is more steady. No curves, and nothing like that." "Do you like it?" inquired Mr. Henderson. "Well, it's nice, of course, and there isn't any better cook than Washington, but, to tell the honest truth, I've eaten with more satisfaction when I made a fire in the woods and boiled coffee and fried bacon. I'm sort of hampered for elbow room." "Still, it isn't as crowded as when we all got in the cylinder and were shot up from the center of the earth on the geyser," commented Jack. "That's right," came from Mark. Professor Henderson, having finished his meal, went to the pilot house to relieve Mr. Roumann. The latter paid a visit to the engine-room before sitting down. "Is everything all right?" asked Jack. "The motor is working like a charm," was the reply. "I shall soon expect you boys to take your turn at guiding the projectile through space." "I want to wait until we get into the ether," said Jack. "We'll go faster then. It's something wonderful to steer a machine going a hundred miles a second." "I should say so; six thousand miles a minute," observed Mark. "The fastest automobile would seem like a snail compared to it." "Yes, and we are going faster than some stars," added Mr. Roumann.