urnace,
so that the fuse might catch fire, and that would give the miscreants
who were engaged time to escape before the powder was fired and brought
the chimney-shaft toppling down.

For a moment I trembled and felt ready to drop the canister, and run for
my life.

Then I felt strong, for I knew that if I kept the canister in my hands
the fuse could not touch the smouldering ashes and the plan would fail.

But how to do this without being heard by the men who must be on either
side of the furnace-house.

It was easy enough; I had but to hold the canister high up above the
fire, and pass it over till it was beyond the burning ashes and then let
it continue its course to the other window.

It was a great risk, not of explosion, but of being heard; but with a
curious feeling of reckless excitement upon me I held up the canister,
stepping softly over the ash floor, and guiding the terrible machine on
till the danger was passed.

Then stealing after it I climbed gently on to the broad bench beneath
the clean window, and with my head just beneath it touched the wire, and
waited till the canister touched my hand again.

I had made no plans, but, urged on by the spirit of the moment, I seized
the canister with both hands, gave it a tremendous jerk, and with my
face at the window roared out:

"Now, fire! Fire! Shoot 'em down!"

I stood on the work-bench then, astounded at the effect of my cry.

Behind me there was a jerk at the wire, which snapped, and I heard the
rush of feet in the lane, while before me out from the window there came
a yell, a tremendous splash, and then the sound of water being beaten,
and cries for help.

At the same moment Piter came rushing into the furnace house, barking
furiously, and directly after there was the noise of feet on the stairs,
and Uncle Jack came in.

"What is it, Cob? Where's your light?" he cried.

I had forgotten the lantern, but I turned it on now as I tucked the
canister beneath my arm.

"There's a man or two men drowning out here in the dam," I panted
hoarsely; and Uncle Jack leaped on to the bench by my side.

"Give me the lantern," he cried; and, taking it from my wet hands, he
turned it on, held it to the open window, and made it play upon the
surface of the dam.

"There are two men there, swimming to the side," he cried. "Stop, you
scoundrels!" he roared; but the beating noise in the water increased.
One seemed to get his footing and held out his hand to