Devon Boys Part 6

"No. If that had been true old Big would have been bouncing about it at school, and told us that story, as he always does everything he knows, nine hundred thousand times, till we were all tired of hearing it."

"But I'd forgotten all about it till just now," pleaded Bigley.

"Ah, well," said Bob, who was sitting on the big stone swinging his legs to and fro, "I don't believe it, and if I did, what then?"

"Why, I thought," said Bigley eagerly, "if we were to put some powder under that stone, and make a train, and strew some wet powder on a piece of rag--"

"And light it, and make it fizzle, and then run away," cried Bob, mimicking Bigley's speech.

"Yes," cried the latter eagerly, "it would topple it over right down into the glen."

"There's an old stupid for you," said Bob, looking at me. Then turning to Bigley he said sharply, "Why, I haven't got my pockets full of powder, have I?"

"N-no," stammered Bigley, who was taken aback by his fierce way.

"And powder don't grow in the furze pops, does it?"

"N-no," faltered Bigley; "but--"

"Here, Sep Duncan," cried Bob, "go and see if any of the rabbits have got any in their holes. There, get out! I shall go home. What's the good of fooling about here?"

"But father's got lots of gunpowder in the shed," cried Bigley.

"Eh?" said Bob starting.

"I could go and get a handful. He'd give it me if he was at home, and he wouldn't mind my fetching some."

"Wouldn't he?" cried Bob, whose sour looks changed to eagerness.

"Hooray, then! Cut off and bring your handkerchief full, and we'll send the stone sky-high."

"All right," said Bigley eagerly.

"And bring a flint and steel."

"Yes: anything else?"

"No, that'll do."

"But, I say," I ventured to put in, "wouldn't it be dangerous?"

"Dangerous! Ha, ha, ha! Hark at him, Big. Here's Miss Duncan very much afraid that the powder might go off and pop him. Oh, here's a game!"

"I'm not afraid," I said; "only I shouldn't like to do anything dangerous."

"Well, who's going to, stupid?" said Bob importantly. "Think I don't know what powder is. There, cut off, Big, and see how soon you can get back. We'll make a hole for the charge, same as they do in the quarry, and have it ready by the time you come. Run."

CHAPTER FOUR.

THE EXPLOSION.

Bigley wanted no further telling, but started off at full speed diagonally down the slope, while Bob, who was all animation and good temper again, seized the iron bar, and began to look out for a suitable place for the charge.

"Hadn't we better wait and see if he can get the powder?" I ventured to say.

"Not we," said Bob. "He'll be sure to get it, and then--oh, I say, Sep, it will be a game!"

Once more I began to feel misgivings as to whether it would be such a game; but I said nothing, only looked on sometimes at Bob, who, in imitation of what he had seen at the quarries, or the places where they blasted out shelves in the cliff-side for houses to be built, was busy driving in a hole right under the big rock by means of the bar, and sometimes at where Bigley was shuffling and sliding down the side of the Gap till he disappeared behind the shed.

"If he gets the powder I wouldn't put much in," I said.

"Why not?"

"Because it may be dangerous."

"There, get out! Just as if I didn't know what I'm doing. I've watched the quarry-men lots of times."

"Will it split the rock?" I asked.

"All depends how you put your charge," said Bob very sagely. "I'm going to make it lift the rock, and drop it down over the side, and then away it'll go and sweep a lot of those big bits with it, just as if they were skittles, and they'll all go down like a big clatter stream to the bottom."

"Here's a better place here," I said, crawling down on the opposite side of the rock.

"No, it ain't," said Bob in his opiniated manner, and without looking.

"It ain't half so good. This is the place. Now go and look, and see if old Big's coming back."

I rose up again, and shading my eyes looked down to the cottage, beyond which the sea was glittering in the sun.

"No," I said; "not yet. Yes, he is: here he comes."

"Has he got it?" cried Bob.

"I don't know," I replied, "he's so far-off; but he has got something.

He's waving his handkerchief."

"Here, hi! Stop! Don't do that!" cried Bob, jumping up and throwing his arms about. "You'll spill all the powder. There's an old stupid.

He don't take any notice."

"Why, how can he at all that distance away? You couldn't make him hear if he was only a quarter as far."

Bob did not reply, but sat down watching, and I did the same, while poor old Bigley came panting and toiling up the slope in the hot sun.

"Oh, isn't he jolly slow," cried Bob. "I wish I'd gone myself. It'll take him all day."

"You'd have lain down and gone to sleep before you were half-way up the hill," I said maliciously, and Bob tightened his lips.

"Go on," he said sourly. "I know what you want. You want to fall out, but I sha'n't. I hate a fellow who always wants to get up a fight. I came here to-day to see if we couldn't have a bit of fun, so I sha'n't quarrel. Oh, I say, what a while he is! He's just like old Teggley Grey's horse, only he ain't so quick."