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CHAPTER XVI The rocket shuddered as the flare behind, even at distance, buffeted the small craft to and fro. Dr. Bedlam glanced around the cockpit; though rivets shivered and struts groaned, the vessel still seemed to hold together. Stretching out a tanned, muscular arm, he drew back the throttle, decreasing fuel flow to the overworked engines; in response, the rocket slowed slightly in its passage through the luminiferous ether. He'd made it! But Dr. Bedlam allowed himself no self-congratulations; the job was not yet done. His tanned, muscular chest still ached, and his tanned, muscular bac