up I can run back to the projectile and keep warm that way."

To think was to act, and Mark laid down his life-torch to take off the
big fur coat. The next instant he had toppled over, almost in a faint,
and, had he not fallen so that his head was near the small perforated
box on the end of the steel rod, whence came the life-giving gas, the
lad might have died.

He had forgotten, for the instant, the necessity of always keeping the
torch close to his face to prevent the poisonous gases of the moon from
overpowering him. Mark soon revived while lying on the ground, and,
rising, with his torch in his hand, he looked about him.

"I've got to have my two hands to work with," he mused, "and yet I've
got to hold this torch close to my face. Say, a fellow ought to have
three hands if he's going to visit the moon. What can I do?"

In an instant a plan came to him. He thrust the pointed end of the
steel rod in the crevice of some rocks, and it stood upright, so that
the perforated box of chemicals was on a level with his face.

"There," said Mark aloud, "I guess that will work. I can use both my
hands now." The plan was a good one. Next, taking off his coat, the lad
proceeded to cut it into strips, working rapidly. He called to Jack
occasionally, bidding him keep up his courage. "I'll soon have you
out," he said cheeringly.

In a few minutes Mark had a long, stout strip of hide, and, taking his
life-torch with him, he advanced once more to the edge of the crater.
He stuck the torch in between some rocks, as before, and looked down at