White was.

"Heah, heah! Come back!" cried the colored man. "My Shanghai rooster is
got loose!" he yelled, and, an instant later, the fowl came sailing out
of the projectile, with Washington in full chase after him.

"I'll help you catch him," volunteered Jack, springing to the cook's
aid, while Professor Henderson laughed, and a bandaged figure, looking
from a stateroom port, wondered at the delay in starting the
projectile.




CHAPTER XII

MARK'S ESCAPE


Mark Sampson was alone in the deserted house. Bound hand and foot,
stripped of his clothing, and attired in some old garments that the
tramps who made a hanging-out place of the old mansion had cast aside,
the unfortunate lad was stretched on a pile of bagging, his heart
beating partly with fear and partly with rage over a desire to escape
and punish the scoundrel responsible for his plight.

The man who had captured him, after taking away Mark's clothes, had
chuckled, as though at some joke.

"You may think this is funny," spoke the lad bitterly, "but you won't