The sharp crack of the pistol was followed by another roar, more awful and awe-inspiring.
Without another word—without even notifying them of his discovery,—Tom balanced the revolver for an instant in his hand, and then taking fair aim hesitated no longer, but pulled the trigger.
Hardly had his finger crooked before the sharp crack of the pistol was followed by another roar, infinitely more awful and awe-inspiring. A blast of hot gas swept back in their faces, and Tom felt himself being picked up bodily by some mysterious force and dashed against the rock. He realized no more. How much later he recovered his senses he did not know, but he opened his eyes to find daylight streaming into the cave.
Under the tremendously powerful forces of Professor Dingle’s explosive the great rocking stone had been, not blown to bits, but literally melted away. But this they did not find out till later. Tom’s first task was to arouse the others who lay in a semi-stupor all about him. He got the water canteen which had been brought with them and dashed some of its contents in his companions’ faces. Presently they began to stir. Except for a cut above the professor’s eye, where a flying stone had struck him, they were uninjured.
But the gases of the explosive had given them all splitting headaches, and as soon as they had recovered enough to be able to stand upright they hastened toward the glorious daylight which came pouring in—the daylight they thought they had forever bidden farewell to.
The storm had passed away, only distant grumblings of thunder remaining to tell of it. The sky was blue and clear once more. The lowness of the sun showed that it must be late in the afternoon. They must, therefore, have lain unconscious for some time. The first thing to be done was, of course, to make all haste away from the spot. A glance about them showed that by good fortune the ledge of rock remained intact. But at its edge, and quite close to them, lay a curious object which it was some time before they made out to be a rifle.
It must have been Simon Lake’s, and the weapon had probably been torn from his pocket by some freak of the same shaft of lightning that sent him to his death in the depths below. The electric fluid had actually melted the steel and fused stock, lock and barrel into one mass of molten metal. Tom shuddered as he thought of the shock that must have passed through Lake when the bolt struck.
A feeling of gloom came over the party, for base as Lake had been in life the manner of his death was surely a terrible one. Perhaps it was a retribution for his wild, lawless life. Tom at least felt that perhaps this was so. One thing was certain, the depths of the narrow rift would prove his sepulchre, for to have recovered his body from those profundities would have been impossible.
“Boss, me think me know um way to de cove wot bad man tell about,” said Monday suddenly, as they were discussing their next step.