The others looked on in some alarm. Suddenly Tubby struck the bottom of the bank and simultaneously there came a series of sounds like a volley of musketry.
Pop! pop! pop! pop!
“Gracious, it’s Tubby,” cried Rob, tracing the source of the sounds.
“Is he blowing up?” demanded Fred Mainwaring in genuine alarm.
“Sounds like it!” exclaimed Merritt apprehensively.
The engineer and the Hindoo looked on in amazement. The fat boy continued to pop loudly. Suddenly, still popping spasmodically, he struggled to his feet. What a sight he presented!
He was covered from head to foot with a milky fluid which was flowing down him and on which the gravel had stuck and plastered him with yellow mud.
“Tubby, are you hurt?” yelled Merritt.
“Bob,” shrilled Rob, for once, in his alarm, giving Tubby his real first name, “what’s the trouble? Are you injured?”
“No, but those cocoanuts have blown up!” shouted Tubby angrily. “One after another they busted! I thought I was in a battle for a minute.”