He flung the bag over his shoulder as gently as possible, and once more started for the adit, though he proceeded with caution.

He was desperately anxious to get rid of his burden, but he had no desire to shake it up unduly.
Giant-powder will now and then go off without any very apparent cause.
In the meanwhile Saunders clutched at Weston as he turned back toward the hut.

One had to enter it before gaining admission to the smaller shed in which they kept the giant-powder.
"You're not going in again?
We've got one bag," he said.
"The other one is still inside," was the hoarse reply.
Saunders did not waste his breath in expostulation, but grappled with him, and he had rent part of Weston's jacket off his back in the effort to detain him when Devine came running up.

Then Weston, wriggling around, struck the storekeeper in the face, and plunged back into the smoke as the latter dropped his hand.
They lost sight of him for almost a minute, and then he reeled out of the shack as the smoke drove away.

A stream of sparks whirled past it, and close above him the roof was blazing, but he held another flour-bag in his hands, and his comrades, who had reasonably steady nerves, were almost appalled when he poised himself to throw it.