amount to use, and this quantity, divided into several packages to make the handling easier, was quickly inserted in the breech of the gun by Koku.
"Bless my doormat!" cried Mr. Damon, who stood near, looking nervously on. "Don't drop any of that."
"Me no drop," was the answer.
Tom was busily engaged in figuring on a bit of paper, and Ned, who looked over his shoulder, saw a complicated compilation that looked to be a combination of geometry, algebra, differential calculus and other higher mathematics.
"What are you doing, Tom?" he asked.
"I'm trying to confirm my own theories by means of figures, to see if I can really reach that farthest target."
"What, not the one thirty miles away?"
"That's it, Ned. I want to get a thirty-mile range if I can."
"It isn't possible, Tom."
"Bless my tape measure! I should say not!" cried Mr. Damon.
"We'll see," replied Tom, quietly. "Put in the primer, Ned; and, Koku, close the breech and slot it home."
In a few seconds the great gun was ready for firing.
