Devon Boys Part 13

"Yes, father," I exclaimed with a sort of gasp, and then I told him what we had done with the powder.

"Humph! Nice fellows!" he exclaimed as I ended. "Why, you might have blown each other to pieces. Powder wants using only by an experienced man, and young Chowne, who seems to have played first fiddle, seems to know more about his father's powders than that out of a keg. Humph! So you blew down one of the lumps of stone?"

"Yes, father."

"Well, why didn't you say so at once?" he continued tartly, "and not shuffle and shirk. It was a foolish, monkeyish trick, but I suppose no great harm's done. What did you do it for?"

"To see the stones rush down, sir," I said.

"Humph! Well, don't do so any more."

"I will not, father," I said hastily.

"That's well. Now we will not say any more about it. Many stones come down?"

"Yes, father, they swept a bare place down the side of the cliff right to the old rock."

"Here, Sep," said my father excitedly, holding out the lump of mineral, "did you pick this up before or after?"

"After, father; where the rock was swept bare."

My father looked at me quite excitedly.

"Done breakfast?" he said sharply.

"Yes, father."

"Put on your hat and come with me to the Gap. Stop a moment. Did your school-fellows notice that piece of rock--did you show it to them?"

"No, father. I was alone when I found it."

"So much the better. Then, look here, Sep; don't say anything to them about it, nor about what you see to-day."

"No, father; but--"

"Don't ask any questions, boy. I am not sure but you may have made a very important discovery in the Gap. I had no idea of there being any metals there."

"And are there, father?"

"We are going to see, my boy. So now, keep your counsel. Put on your cap and we will walk over to the Gap at once, when you can show me the exact spot where you found this piece."

I grew as excited as my father seemed to be, but with this difference, namely, that as I grew warmer he grew more cool and business-like.

After I had given him some better idea of the place where the specimen had been found, he decided that we would not go round by the cliff path, and past Jonas Uggleston's cottage, but take a short cut over the high moorland ground at the back of the bay, and so on to the Gap, where we could descend just where we lads had blown down the rock.

It was not a long walk that way, though a hilly one, and before half an hour had pa.s.sed we were close to the edge of the ravine, and directly after on the spot from whence the stone had been dislodged.

Here for the first time I noticed the handle of a hammer in my father's pocket as he stooped down and examined the place where the rock lay, and then shook his head. "No, not here," he said. "Go on first." I led the way and he followed, noting where the rock had bounded off, and then descending to where it had charged the other pieces and rushed on down, baring a portion of the side of the ravine, as I have said, to the very rock.

"Hah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed my father suddenly, as he seemed to pounce upon a fragment of stone something like the first I held. "Here's another, and another, and another," I said. "Yes, plenty," he replied rather hoa.r.s.ely, as he picked up a couple more pieces. "Place them in your pocket, boy."

As he spoke he looked about him up and down, and ended by uttering another sharp exclamation, for in one place there was a rugged patch of rock just like the fragments we held, and seeming as if the cliff-side there was one solid ma.s.s.

"Look here, Sep," he said quietly; "be smart, and gather up all the rough pieces of common grey slate you can find and throw them about here I'll help."

I set to work and he aided me vigorously, with the result that in a short time we had hidden the bright metallic-looking patch, and then he laid his hand upon my arm.

"That will do," he said. "Now, keep a silent tongue in your head. I'll talk more to you afterwards. Let's go home now. Stop," he cried, starting; "don't seem to look, but turn your head slightly towards the sea. Your eyes are better than mine. Who's that standing on the piece of rock over yonder. Can you see?"

"No, father, not yet."

"Look more to the north, boy. Just over the big rock that stands out of the cliff-side. There's a man watching us."

"Yes, I see, father," I cried.

"Who is it?" he whispered, as he led the way along by the steep slope so that we might descend and go up the Gap by the stream side and reach the sh.o.r.e.

"Yes, I know, I'm sure now," I cried. "It's old Jonas Uggleston."

"Humph! Of all men in the world," said my father. "Well, the place is my own now, and no one has a right to interfere."

He walked on silently for a few minutes, and then said softly: "I would rather no one had known yet." Then aloud to me: "Come, Sep, let's get home and see what these rocks are made of. I'm beginning to think that you have made a great find."

CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE DOCTOR AND I BUILD A FURNACE.

My father was very silent as we walked swiftly back home, where he locked up the specimens we had obtained, and then after a few minutes'

thought he signed to me to follow him and started for Ripplemouth.

About half-way there we met Doctor Chowne on his grey pony with Bob walking beside him, and directly after the doctor and my father were deep in conversation, leaving us boys together.

"What's the matter!" said Bob. "Your father ill?"

"No," I replied; "I think it's about business." How well I can recollect Doctor Chowne! A little fierce-looking stoutish man, in drab breeches and top-boots, and a very old-fashioned c.o.c.ked hat that looked terribly the worse for wear. He used to have a light brown coat and waistcoat, with very large pockets that I always believed to be full of powders, and draughts, and pills on one side; and on the other of tooth-pincers, and knives, and saws for cutting off people's legs and arms. Then, too, he wore a pigtail, his hair being drawn back and twisted up, and bound, and tied at the end with a greasy bit of ribbon.

But it was not like anybody else's pigtail, for, instead of hanging down decently over his coat collar, it c.o.c.ked up so that it formed a regular curve, and looked as if it was a hook or a handle belonging to his c.o.c.ked hat.

Before my father and he had been talking many minutes, the doctor turned sharply round in his saddle, with one hand resting on the pony's back.

He was going to speak, but his hand tickled the pony, which began to kick, whereupon Doctor Chowne, who looked rather red-faced and excited, stuck his spurs into the pony's ribs, and this made him rear and back towards the cliff edge, till the doctor dragged his head round so that he could see the sea, when he directly ran backwards and stood with his tail in the bank.

"Quiet, will you?" cried the doctor, and, as the pony was not being tickled, he consented to stand still. "Here, Bob!" said the doctor then.

"Yes, father."

"Go home."