'Came out of the Crimea, I expect. They used this kind of thing sixty years ago. It's a muzzle loader, you see.'
'And shoots real cannon balls,' said Roy, pointing to a pyramid of huge iron globes, each about fourteen inches in diameter.
'I wonder where the powder is,' said Ken with sudden eagerness.
'What's up now?' demanded Roy.
'I've got it,' said Ken quickly, as he began pulling a tarpaulin off a pile of canvas bags. 'A rare lot of it too!'
'You're not thinking by any chance of lobbing shot into Maidos, are you?' asked Roy sarcastically.
'Not that,' said Ken. 'Hardly that. But what about setting off this little lot? My notion is this. If we could put a slow match to the powder and then clear out and get down to the mouth of the water-course before it goes off, I believe those loafers down on the beach would all come running up here to see what had happened. That would give us our chance to collar a boat and clear.'
Roy gave a low chuckle.
'Not a bad notion, old son. Not half a bad idea. Yes, it certainly would wake some of 'em up. But what about the slow match? We've got no fuse.'
Ken held out an old-fashioned candle lantern.