"You see, a
long strip of the wall has been cleaned out. Not a trace of the damaged
part shows above water."
"It wasn't as big an explosion as the other two, though," Reade declared.
"Really, it looks as though the folks behind this found themselves running
low on explosives."
"There must be a trace or a clue left," urged Mr. Prenter.
"High explosives don't leave many traces of anything with which they come
in contact," muttered Harry. "If we _do_ find any traces, I guess it will
have to be in broad daylight."
"And I guess that's right," agreed Tom. "Mr. Corbett, did none of your men
patrolling on the wall report any signs of strangers?"
"No such report was made, sir."
"At all events, we can be thankful that the explosion didn't blow one or
two of our men into the other world," Tom went on.
"Even that is bound to happen if there are many more of these explosions,"
muttered Corbett, grimly.
"Which is another reason," remarked Tom Reade, "why we're going to solve
the mystery of said explosions at the earliest minute that we can."
"One thing is certain," observed Mr. Prenter, with the nearest approach to
gloom that he had yet shown. "If you don't soon penetrate this grim
mystery, and find a way to stop these outrages, then the wall will be
destroyed more rapidly than you can build it.
Pages:
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121