"Oh, Koku, it's you; is it?" the odd man asked. "Bless my cuff buttons! Where is Tom?"
"In shop I guess."
"I don't see him. Still I had better look. There doesn't seem to be any one about."
Mr. Damon opened the shop door, and was met by such an outward rush of choking gas that he staggered back.
"Bless my" he began but he had to stop, to cough and gasp. "There must have been some sort of an accident," he cried, as he got his lungs full of fresh air. "A bad accident! Tom could never work in that atmosphere. Whew!"
"Accident! What is matter?" cried Koku stepping to the doorway. He, too choked and gasped, but his was such a strong and rugged nature, and his lungs held such a supply of air, that it took more than mere gas to knock him out. He peered in through the wreaths of the acid vapor, and saw the body of his master, lying on the floor—held down by the heavy iron.
In another instant Koku had rushed in, holding his breath, for, now that he was inside the place, the gas made even him feel weak.
"Come back! Come back!" cried Mr. Damon. You'll be smothered! Wait until the gas escapes!"
