ten pounds of the powdered chlorate."

"Then how do they get it into a powder, sir?" pressed Tom. "Do
the manufacturers grind it between big millstones?"

"If any ever did," laughed the druggist, "they never remained
on earth long enough to tell about it. A few pounds of the chlorate,
crushed between millstones, would blow the roof off of the largest
mill you ever saw!"

"But what makes the stuff so explosive?" queried Prescott.

"I don't know whether I can make you understand it," the druggist
replied. "Potassium chlorate is extremely 'rich' in oxygen, and
it is held very loosely in combination. When a piece of the chlorate
is struck a hard blow it sets the oxygen free, and the gas expands
so rapidly that the explosion follows."

On the outskirts of the little crowd stood a new-comer, Ted Teall,
who was drinking in every word that the druggist uttered. Dick
saw him and felt a sudden start of intuition.

"See here, Teall," Dick called, "you needn't pick that up as a
pointer for the way to serve me with a home-made ball at our game
to-morrow. The trick I played on you wasn't dangerous, but this
chlorate racket is. Mr. Johnson, what would happen if a fellow
should hit a ball with his bat, and that ball was packed with
chlorate of potash?"

"I'm not sure that the fellow with the bat would ever know what