The men were ordered to stand back and the warrant officer courageously lifted the lid of the chest. Nothing happened.
There was an empty tray in the top of the odd chest. That, too, was cautiously lifted out.
There came suddenly a faint buzzing from the interior that startled everybody near. Then followed the ticking sound, which lasted at least a full minute.
The warrant officer jerked away a layer of pasteboard that hid what was under the tray. Several grim cylinders lay side by side in the chest's bottom. They were connected by wires with a mechanism that hummed like the purring of a well-piled motor.
"Clockwork!" exclaimed the carpenter's mate, bending over the chest. "That's what she is. Ah! It reverses itself. See that spring—winding tighter and tighter? Why, it's almost perpetual motion! Some inventor that fellow!"
"What fellow?" growled the warrant officer.
"Whoever built this."
"Can you stop it without exploding those cylinders?"
"Great Scott! Do you s'pose that's dynamite under there?"
"Or T N T."