Part 69 (2/2)

”By all means then let us be burned,” said Uncle Bob laughing. ”There, don't let's make mountains of molehills. We shall not be hurt.”

”Well,” said Uncle d.i.c.k, ”I feel as if we ought to take every possible precaution; but, that done, I do not feel much fear of anything taking place. If the scoundrels had really meant mischief they would have done something before now.”

”Don't halloa till you are out of the wood,” said Uncle Jack. ”I smell danger.”

”Where, uncle?” I cried.

”In the air, boy. How the wind blows! Quite a gale. Brings the smell of naphtha from those works half a mile away. Shows how a scent like that will travel.”

”I say, boys,” said Uncle Bob, ”what a trade that would be to carry on-- that or powder-mills. The scoundrels would regularly hold one at their mercy.”

”Wind's rising, and the water seems pretty lively,” said Uncle d.i.c.k as we sat together in the office, listening to the noises of the night.

We were quite in the dark, and from time to time we had a look round about the yard and wall and that side of the building, the broad dam on the other side being our protection.

”What a curious gurgling the water makes!” said Uncle Bob as we sat listening; ”anyone might think that half a dozen bottles were being poured out at once.”

”The water plays in and out of the crevices amongst the stones, driving the air forth. I've often listened to it and thought it was someone whispering out there beneath the windows,” said Uncle d.i.c.k.

Then came a loud gust of wind that shook the windows, and directly after there was the strong sour scent of naphtha.

”They must have had an accident--upset a tank or something of the kind,”

said Uncle Jack. ”How strong it is!”

”Yes; quite stinging. It comes each time with the puffs of wind. I suppose,” continued Uncle d.i.c.k, ”you would consider that which we smell to be a gas.”

”Certainly,” said Uncle Bob, who was, we considered, a pretty good chemist. ”It is the evaporation of the spirit; it is so volatile that it turns of itself into vapour or gas and it makes itself evident to our nostrils as it is borne upon the air.”

”There must be great loss in the manufacture of such a spirit as that.”

”Oh, they charge accordingly!” said Uncle Bob; ”but a great deal does undoubtedly pa.s.s off into--”

He stopped short, for Uncle Jack laid his hand upon his knee and we all listened.

”Nothing,” said the latter; but I felt sure I heard a noise below.

”I heard the gurgling sound very plainly,” said Uncle d.i.c.k. ”There it is again. One might almost think there was water trickling into the building.”

”Or naphtha, judging by the smell,” said Uncle Bob. ”It's very curious.

I have it!” he cried.

”What do you mean?” said Uncle Jack sharply.

”There has been an accident, as we supposed, at the naphtha works, and a quant.i.ty of it has floated down the stream and into our dam.”

”It has been very clever then,” said Uncle Jack gruffly, ”for it has floated up stream a hundred yards to get into our dam, and--Good heavens!”

He sprang to the window and threw it open, for at that moment a heavy dull explosion shook the room where we were, and in place of the darkness we could see each other distinctly, for the place seemed to have been filled with reflected light, which went out and then blazed up again.

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