“What! about the danger of opening the keg?”
“Tchah! no, sir. I can open that safely enough. It only means loosening the two hoops at the end, and then the heading will slip out. I mean this—the barrels have been down there no one knows how long, and what I want to know is, will it be powder after all?”
“Not powder after all!” cried Roy in astonishment, as his active mind began to question what liquor it could be there that was stored up so carefully as if it were a treasure indeed.
“I’m afraid it won’t be, sir—very much afraid.”
“Then what do you think it is?”
“Solid blocks o’ stony stuff, sir, I should say.”
“But they don’t put stony stuff in kegs like these.”
“No, sir, powder; but perhaps it has got damp with time and hardened so as it won’t be of any use.”
“Not if it’s dried and ground up again.”
“Don’t know, sir; can’t say; but we’ll soon see.” There was no hesitation shown. Ben tapped the two top hoops a little, and they soon grew loose and were worked up the staves; the top one withdrawn, and the next brought up into its place, having the wooden disc which formed the head free to be lifted out.