"Well, I'd like to acquire some information about where that red stuff is," said the German. "There is one of the metal boxes that contain some, up on that pole." He pointed to one that evidently served as a street lamp at night. "And there's a policeman near it," said Jack. "Ask him." A Martian stood leaning against the light-pole, much as does an officer of the law on earth. That he was some sort of an official was evidenced by the uniform he wore. Mr. Roumann approached the Martian, and made signs that he would like to see the light box. The officer shook his head vigorously, and said something rapidly. "I guess they don't allow strangers to touch it," observed Jack. "Evidently not," admitted Mr. Roumann. "I wonder if he knows where it comes from?" He made more signs, asking, as well as he could, where the substance in the box was obtained. The officer pointed to the distant hills, but again shook his head in protest, and spoke for tome time very earnestly, as if warning his questioner not to venture after it. "Guess they must guard it pretty closely," said Mark. "Well, I'm going to have some, anyhow," declared the German. "We'll take a stroll over toward the hills." They passed through the city, no one offering to stop them. On every side they observed something new or strange, and they were particularly struck by the absence of all noise. Everything was done silently. There were no trolley cars, no wagons or trucks, no puffing automobiles, and no confusion. The Martians moved noiselessly about, and the sleds, with their queer motive power, made no sound. They seemed to be the only vehicles in use, save the boats, and these sleds were of many sizes, some as large as big trucks. "Do you think it will be safe to leave the projectile so long?" asked Jack. "I think so," replied Mr. Roumann. "These people will not bother with it. In fact, they all seem too busy. I want to get some of that valuable red stuff." They kept on, until they found themselves out of the city and into the country districts. Here there was more water than land, great canals and lakes being scattered here and there, with narrow paths or roads winding in and out among them. "It's always flood time here," observed Jack. "We must get one of those boats." They approached the hills, which seemed to rise out of a great lake. "There is where the treasure is--in those hills," said Mr. Roumann. "They're not more than a mile off. Let's hurry there and get some." They came to a narrow strip of land connecting two lakes, and as they were crossing it, there suddenly appeared from a little hut, about half way over, several Martians, who opposed their progress. CHAPTER XXVI IN PERIL "Well, I wonder if we can't go any farther?" asked Mr. Roumann, as he and his companions came to a halt, and noticed that the little men held what looked like small sticks in their hands.