"Did he ask you for particular directions?"
"Well, yes."
"Did you furnish him the shell or envelope of this projected bomb?"
"Oh, no; he said he had a teakittle to hum," said the pantaloon, whereupon the repressed volcano of merriment exploded once more, to the indignation of John Davidson, who occupied a front seat, listening to the testimony of his townsman. The chief justice looked stern and the district attorney's deep bass rumbled on without a pause.
"A teakettle at home. And how was that to be converted into the covering of a bomb?"
"Why, I told him to put the fuse inside and draw it through the nozzle, so the plug would stop up the spout, then shovel in the powder, tamp her up with nails and pellets, fasten down the lid and you have a bomb ready made. The kettle, I understood, was a frail one, hardly stronger than a canister."
"Not a concussion bomb, Mr. Fowler, I suppose?"
"No, sir. Those are filled with dynamite or giant powder. I don't deal in the high explosives."
"This bomb would have to be fired through the fuse?"
"Yes, sir."