"I have already told you what representations I made," replied Tidkins, impatiently. "Where's the use of asking the question over again?"
"For the same reason that one reads a letter twice," rejoined Vernon,—"to see that nothing has been omitted which ought to be said or done. But are you sure that the fellows will understand how to use the detonating balls?"
"Nothing is easier," answered Tidkins. "And as it was merely to try one that we agreed to meet here now, suppose I just make the trial directly?"
"Yes—I am anxious to be assured of the effect," said Vernon. "We are far enough away from the Hall to do so in safety."
"Certainly we are," remarked Tidkins. "In the first place we're down in this deep valley;—in the second place there's the thick grove on the top of the hill;—and in the third place, even if there wasn't the hill at all between us and the Hall, the back windows of the mansion don't look this way. So the smoke can't be seen."
"True!" exclaimed Vernon. "And now for the test."
The Resurrection Man drew from his pocket a ball covered with coarse blue paper, and nearly as large as a cricket-ball.
Then, rising from his seat, he dashed it with some degree of violence upon the hard ground.
It exploded in the twinkling of an eye, with a din as loud as that of a blunderbuss; and both Vernon and the Resurrection Man were immediately enveloped in a dense cloud of black and sulphurous-smelling smoke.
When the dark volume had blown away, Vernon beheld the cadaverous countenance of the Resurrection Man looking towards him with a grin of ferocious satisfaction.