“Yes, give him a lump of that, and we’ll help him melt it down some night, and cast bullets and slugs.”
“Seems so nasty. Father said it was part of an old lead coffin that one of the monks was buried in.”
“Well, what does that matter? It was hundreds of years ago. Dave wouldn’t know.”
“And if he did he wouldn’t mind,” said Dick. “All right! we’ll take him the lead to-morrow.”
“But you haven’t got the powder.”
“No, but Hicky goes to Ealand to-morrow, and he can take the money to the carrier, and we can tell Dave we’ve sent for it, and he knows he can believe us, and that’ll be all right.”
There was another pause, during which the wind shrieked, and far overhead there came a confused gabbling noise, accompanied by the whistling of wings, a strange eerie sound in the darkness that would have startled a stranger. But the boys only stood still and listened.
“There they go, a regular flight!” said Dick. “If Dave hears them won’t he wish he’d got plenty of powder and lead!”
“Think the old monks’ll mind?” said Tom.
“What! that flock of wild-geese going over?”