“There, hold the light, and don’t do that. You are a cheerful mate, ’pon my sivvy. Here goes.”
The speaker began again, keeping a sharp lookout, so as to spring back and not be crushed by the falling door; and to this end he made Roach stand in the entrance and direct the light from there, giving him plenty of room. But the door did not fall, and at the end of an hour the hammer was thrown down.
“It’s no go.”
“Do you give it up?” cried Roach, eagerly.
“No, I don’t give it up, but I’m not going to work all the flesh off my bones when one stroke will do the work.”
“What! The powder?”
“That’s it, old chap. Go and see how the old woman is.”
Roach sighed, and went away, to return shivering.
“She looks horrible,” he whispered; “but you mustn’t think of powder, my lad. You’ll bring the people in from both sides to see what’s the matter.”
“Won’t make noise enough for that, and I sha’n’t use enough,” said Arthur, coolly. “Don’t talk. That door’s got to come open, and I wish I’d tried this plan at first.”