As they neared the falls, Charles suddenly ceased to talk, and Steve seized the opportunity to ask eagerly, “Will, can you tell me what was in that box? I almost concluded that some mistake had been made, and that perhaps you had found it out since. Were they fire-crackers?”
Will answered hesitatingly, as though ashamed of himself: “Why, yes, Steve, sure enough, a mistake was made. This morning I discovered that instead of fire-crackers, I gave you a box of my father’s, full of wet gunpowder.”
Steve’s face blanched. Not being so learned as George, it seemed to him, in his present state of mind, that wet gunpowder must be more dangerous than any other kind.
“That’s why it didn’t go off; but, if it’s there, it will go off yet!” he muttered.
Will observed the look of dismay on the boy’s face, and said soothingly, “Pshaw, Steve! Don’t be frightened; wet gunpowder has no virtue; don’t trouble about it or the fire.”
Charles and Will, having thus eased their conscience, and Steve’s anxiety, felt that all the warning that duty required had been given; and unshipping their oars, let the boat drift with the stream—taking care, however, to keep close to the bank where George lurked in ambush.
But Stephen, in his awakened uneasiness, did not heed Will’s comforting remark, nor did he wonder how Will could know anything about what had been done with the box.
“Boys, we’re near the falls!” Jim cried, in terror. “Stop the boat!”
But this warning was disregarded, and Charley struck up “Yankee Doodle,” the signal agreed upon with George.