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Green flame stabbed from Orion's tail, grew to white intensity. The instrument cable dropped from the rocket's nose and writhed to the ground. Even through the thick walls of the blockhouse Rick heard the mighty rocket's voice, an ear-shattering roar of triumph that sent lancing pain through his head. The rocket shuddered, eager to be away.
His wife's elderly maid was waving her handkerchief from one of the car windows. The porter and the manservant stood at attention. He exchanged a nod and smile with his wife, patted Rocket's arched neck and clicked to him to start. "This is great, Miss Knowles!" he said. "I did not look for such fun, first crack out of the box.
But here there was no sensation of motion, and the distances were enormous. Things which happen in space happen with insensate violence and incredible swiftness. But long, long, long intervals elapse between events. The twelve-two rocket burned out. The Chief had matched that also. Brown's voice in the headphones said, "The rocket's cut acceleration. It's floating up, now.
The ship's gyros whined and squealed as Joe jammed on their controls. The little ship spun in emptiness. Its bow turned and pointed down. The steering rockets made their roarings. Joe found himself panting. "The rocket's rising faster than we are. It's been gaining altitude maybe two minutes. It's lighter than when it started but it can't stop less than a minute, anyhow so we duck under it "
"Yes, even Smallbones," shrugged Abe, sipping his whiskey. Angel Gay bolted his whiskey and laid a gentle hand firmly on Horsley's shoulder. "No," he said, "not Smallbones; not even Doc Crombie, both deadgut fellers sure. But you are the man, Abe. For elegance o' langwidge, an' flow mark you you you are a born speaker, sure. Say, I believe that rye of Rocket's was in a gin bottle.
Five men were buried that night in the little cemetery there by the dugout. We stood or sat about for a while! no one had much to say. The grey mist thickened and enveloped us. And we became as very shadows ourselves. Somewhere in the mist up the hill, near where the rocket's red glare flushed on the dim horizon, a man began whistling the intermezzo from "Thais."
Otherwise it could have floated anywhere about the room. "Mr. Kenmore," said Brown awkwardly, "you did a very nice piece of work. It's too bad you aren't in the Navy." Joe said: "It did work out pretty fortunately. It's lucky the Chief and I were out practicing, but now we can take off when a rocket's reported, any time." Brown cleared his throat.
Even through the rocket's walls the sound of motors and the creak of metal could be heard, and Rick knew that any slight noise he could make would never be noticed. Frantic, he ran to the thick port and looked out. Surely there must be some way he could attract attention! The flashlight in his hand reminded him. He aimed it through the port and flashed a rapid SOS, SOS, SOS. Someone would see it!
That summer Rocket's loads grew so large that a pony had to be hired to take his place sometimes, for Aunt Emma's fowls and eggs added considerably to the weight and to the number of baskets they had to get into the cart.
We like to be surprised into admiration, and not logically convinced that we ought to admire. We are willing to be delighted with success, though we are somewhat indifferent to the homely qualities which insure it. Our thought is so filled with the rocket's burst of momentary splendor so far above us, that we forget the poor stick, useful and unseen, that made its climbing possible.
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