Then a slight bump, and they were at the bottom.

Fairchild started to crawl out from the bucket, only to resume his old position as Harry yelled with fright.
"Don't do it!" gulped the Cornishman.

"Do you want me to go up like a skyrocket?
Them weights is all at the top.

We 've got to fix a plug down 'ere to 'old this blooming bucket or it 'll go up and we 'll stay down!" Working from the side of the bucket, still held down by the weight of the two men, they fashioned a catch, or lock, out of a loop of rope attached to heavy spikes, and fastened it taut.
"That 'll 'old," announced the big Cornishman.

"Out we go!" Fairchild obeyed with alacrity.