“Tynamite?”
“Yes, and you will be scattered all over the State of Maine in less than a minute if you don’t stop it!”
“Py Chorch!” gasped Hans, turning pale.
Then he dropped the slice into the fire!
“Run!” yelled Forest.
Hans did so, and there was a general scramble to get away from that fire. Before they had gone twenty rods the burning logs leaped into the air with a sharp explosion, after which it rained splintered wood and cinders for five minutes.
Hans was thrown down by the shock of the explosion, and he sat on the ground staring toward the spot where the fire had been. When he could command his voice, he gurgled:
“Uf dot don’d peat der pand! I thought dot vos some kindt uf polona sausage!”