They seized the bar and forced the pointed end between the door and the jamb.
"Now!" exclaimed Kenneth.
At that very moment, before the lads could exert any pressure upon the crowbar, a blinding flash came from overhead, immediately followed by a terrific detonation. Splinters, broken glass, tiles, clods of earth and leaves flew in all directions, while a pungent cloud of smoke enveloped everything.
For nearly ten seconds the two chums held on to the crowbar, then Kenneth spoke.
"I'm hit, confound it!" he exclaimed. "It's not much, though."
He relaxed his grasp of the iron bar as he spoke, and reeled slightly. Rollo held out his hand to steady him, and perceived for the first time that it was wet with blood and practically devoid of the sense of feeling.
"What! You hit too?" asked Kenneth, pulling himself together on seeing the dark stain on his companion's wrist.
"Yes; a shrapnel ball clean through my right wrist," announced Rollo, "It doesn't hurt much."
"And I've a bullet through the palm of my left hand," added Kenneth, displaying a small punctured wound about two inches from the base of the little finger. "It might have been worse. We'll tie our handkerchiefs over the wounds; that will do all right for the time. Now for the door. The sooner we open it the better. Buck up, man; the girls must be terribly anxious."
Thus exhorted, although feeling giddy from the effects of the shock, Rollo grasped the crowbar with his unwounded hand. Kenneth bore against the lever with all his might, and with a crash the door flew open.