“Desperate enough, but we shall do no good, and only give ourselves a great deal of trouble if we go to the law. The police might trace out one of the offenders; but if they did, what then? It would not stop the attempts to harm us. No: I’m of opinion that our safety lies in our own watchfulness. A more terrible attempt than this could not be made.”
“What shall we do with the powder, then?” asked Uncle Bob; “save it to hoist some of the scoundrels with their own petard?”
“Oh, of course if you like,” said Uncle Jack. “Fancy Bob trying to blow anybody up with gunpowder!”
“When he can’t even do it with his breath made into words.”
“Ah! Joke away,” said Uncle Bob; “but I want to see you get rid of that horrible stuff.”
“We don’t want to save it then?” said Uncle Jack.
“No, no; get rid of it.”
“That’s soon done then,” said Uncle Jack, tying a piece of the cord round the canister; and, going to the open window, he lowered it down over the deep water in the dam, where it sank like a stone, and drew the cord after it out of sight.
“There,” he cried, “that will soon be so soaked with water that it will be spoiled.”
“Who’s that,” I said, “on the other side of the dam? He’s watching us.”