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“Why, n-nothing,” Willie answered.

“You dug up that kettle by the fence, stupid!”

“What if we did?” Willie retorted. “Nothing in it anyhow, except water.”

“Water!” the one with the revolver echoed. “You’re lucky to be alive!”

“Then it’s nitro?” Jack asked quietly. “Why did you bury it by the fence?”

“What should I have done with it? Carry it around in my pocket? I’d like to get rid of the stuff, but how?”

“Dump it in the creek,” suggested Willie. “There’s one running through the cemetery.”

“You are stupid!” the stranger accused. “Don’t you know nitro is heavier than water? It would sink to the bottom and form a layer.”

“Notify the police,” advised Jack. “They’ll know what to do.”

The workman glared at him. “Sure,” he said sarcastically, “they’ll know what to do all right! You kids give me a pain! You never should have come poking around here. That stuff would have been okay if you’d left it alone. Now I’m in a spot.”

“How’d you get the nitro in the first place?” Willie questioned.

The stranger did not reply. His face twisted with worry, he ordered the Scouts to start walking toward the roadway.