Taking one of the boxes on his knee, he brought the blade to bear, but dared not put forth all his force, and for some time he could not get even one of the fastenings to move, for the water had made the wood swell.
“It’s no use, Pete.”
“Oh, ain’t it, sir? They are in precious tight, but we have got lots of time; and look—the top of this box is steaming, and it’s drying fast. I shall do it if I don’t break my knife.”
Click!
“There, now, if half-an-inch of the blade ain’t gone! And I thought it was a bit of the best stuff in our company. Well, there’s a bit left to work with, and I must try and cut through.”
“No, no!” cried Archie eagerly. “Try if the broken blade will not go into the ends of the screws.”
“What! and use it as a screw-driver, sir?” cried Peter joyously. “Why, it will be quite easy now. Call mine a head! Why, it’s as thick as a bowl. Here, take it coolly, sir! Here’s one coming out as easy as easy.—There’s one! Don’t shout ‘Hooray!’ sir, for sound runs along over the water like a skate on ice. Why, my knife is like a real tool. Couldn’t have broke off better, sir, and in half-an-hour we shall be all right if—”
“If what, Pete?”
“The powder ain’t damp.”