“And now we’ll continue our stroll,” said Mr. Lockyer. “First let us visit the construction shed, which I imagine will prove the most interesting.”
So saying, he struck out rapidly across the yard, his long legs opening and closing like the blades of a pair of scissors. They could not have been a hundred yards from the shed when the ground shook and there came the sound of a muffled explosion. As the inventor came to a sudden halt, a startled look on his face, a chorus of excited shouts arose from within, and presently a white-faced boy came rushing out. He was followed by another workman and then another. Panic seemed to have seized them. They hardly noticed our astonished group as they sped by.
“Good heavens! something has happened to the boat!” gasped Mr. Lockyer, turning pale and his slender form shaking like a leaf. He clapped a hand to his head. In the face of the sudden emergency he seemed crushed.
CHAPTER III.
THE WORK OF A DASTARD.
But the inventor’s inaction did not last for long. Like the workmen, he also started to run, but instead of his flight being away from the shed, it was toward it. The three man-o’-wars-men followed close at his heels.
As they neared the door a hulking big fellow lurched out, and Mr. Lockyer seized him eagerly.
“What is it, Gradbarr?” he demanded tremblingly. “What has happened?”
“’Splosion of some sort, sir,” was the hasty rejoinder. “Don’t go in there,” he exclaimed, as the inventor hastily darted forward once more. “It’s sure death.”