Arthur Cheney Train,
The Moon Maker
“ The woman who died on the moon! The lady in the moon! Where had the lady come from? In a flying machine.The valve gave a last flutter, and her vision clouded—brightened—glowed—until it almost blinded her. With a stifled cry, she found herself on her feet, staring at a dazzling trail of fire shooting into the black background of the sky. The Ring! It rose like a rocket just in front of her—its sides gleaming like molten metal toward and into the zenith—hesitated, hovered for a moment above her head, and dropped swiftly downward toward her. ”

