those primers, for all the rest of us have our hands full. Only be careful of 'em!"
"I—I will, Massa Tom."
They kept on, and it was noticed that Mr. Damon gave nervous glances from time to time in the direction of Koku, who was carrying the box of powder. The giant himself, however, did not seem to know the meaning of fear. He carried the box, which contained enough explosive to blow them all into fragments, with as much composure as though it contained loaves of bread.
"Now you can go, Rad," annoumced Tom, when they reached the lonely field where, pointing toward a big hill, was the little cannon.
"Good, Massa Tom!" cried the colored man, and from the way in which he hurried off no one would ever suspect him of having rheumatic joints.
"Say, that stuff looks just like Swiss cheese," remarked Ned, as Tom opened the box of explosive. It would be incorrect to call it powder, for it had no more the appearance of gunpowder, or any other "powder," than, as Ned said, Swiss cheese.
And, indeed, the powerful stuff bore a decided resemblance to that peculiar product of the dairy.
