"Aw, go on!" Jimmie said. "The fuse went out, didn't it? Gave us a
good scare, anyway. I'm six inches shorter than I was before I saw the
blaze creepin' along like a bloomin' snake!"

"How did it affect your appetite?" asked Frank.

"If you mention anythin' to eat," Jimmie answered, "I'll have a fit. I
don't know how people live in China, but I've been starved ever since I
struck the country."

Flashlight in hand, Ned now devoted his whole attention to the floor of
the cellar. There were marks of shoes here and there, and half-burned
matches.

"It looks as if whoever did this job did it in a hurry," Ned said. "If
the fuse had been set right it would have done its work. Do you see why
it went out?"

"Well, there's a break in it, and the break is over a damp spot on the
floor. The powder stuffed line burned to the break and there the flame
went out. It burned slowly, anyway, which probably accounts for our
being alive at this time."

Ned took a rule from his pocket and measured the shoe tracks on the
floor. There were numerous tracks, but one was very distinct. This had
been made by the man who rolled the half-barrel of powder to the place
where it had been found.

The barrel had come upon a slight obstruction, and the man had evidently
lifted and pulled at it until his shoe, by reason of the extra weight
put upon it, had sunk deep into the light soil.

"That wasn't any Chink shoe," Jimmie said.

"No, it was a shoe made in America," Ned said. "It is comparatively a
new shoe, too. I am wondering now why the American, or Englishman, or
Frenchman, whatever he is, didn't hire some of the Chinks to do this
work of laying the explosion."

"They're afraid," Jack volunteered.

There was a litter of half-burned matches near the barrel and Ned bent
over and gathered them up. As he did so something bright lying on the
ground, caught his eye. It was a gold rivet, or wire, not more than an
inch long and about as thick as a knitting needle.

"What is it?" asked Frank.

"I should say," replied Ned, "that the fellow lost the cover to his
match box here. This looks like the rivet which served for a hinge.
The cover itself may be here."

But a close search did not reveal the cover, nor anything else of
moment, in fact, and the boys soon left the cellar. Frank laughed as
Ned placed the gold wire in his pocketbook.

"You are making quite a collection," he said.

"Yes," Jack added, "he has a state departm