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Updated: May 3, 2025
"Just as you please, my dear boy," replied Bob, carelessly. "Just find a good place where you can see her when she shoots, and I'll drop the go-devil." Ralph lost no time in obeying the young moonlighter's instructions, seeking a refuge near the corner of a small tool-house to the windward of the well, and about a hundred yards from it.
"Look out for your mouth and nose just after the explosion," cautioned George, "for the gases which will come first to the surface are very poisonous." "All ready!" shouted Bob, as he looked around to see that every one was in a safe position, and then approached the well with the go-devil in his hands.
The bear was released from the "go-devil" and chained to trees every night; and so long as the camp fire burned brightly he would lie still and watch it attentively, but when the fire burned low he would get up and restlessly pace to and fro and tug at the chains, stopping now and then to seize in his arms the tree to which he was anchored and test its strength by shaking it.
Then they put a dynamite torpedo down in the well and explode it. They have a little bar of iron that they call a Go-devil, and they just drop it down on the business end of the torpedo, and then stand from under, if you please!
"They talk about running the easting down," Mr. Pike chortled to me, as we clung to the poop-rail to keep from fetching away and breaking ribs and necks. "Well, this is running your westing down if anybody should ride up in a go-devil and ask you." It was a wretched, glorious night. Sleep was impossible for me, at any rate. Nor was there even the comfort of warmth.
Being "chechakos" they were supreme in their conceit, and refused to heed his advice. Returning at bed time he found his partner webbing a pair of snow-shoes by the light of a stinking "go-devil," consisting of a string suspended in a can of molten grease. The camp had sold them grub, but refused the luxury of candles. Noting his gravity, George questioned: "Well, how's Menard?" "Dead!"
What you doing rolling around in a gasoline go-devil?" the elder man inquired, and Law was forced to explain. "Why, Mrs. Austin must have experienced a change of heart!" exclaimed Paloma. "She never gave anybody a lift before." Blaze agreed. "She's sure poisonous to strangers." Then he looked over the car critically.
"Well, the old plan used to be to drop an iron weight called a 'go-devil, down on top of the cannisters containing the explosive. The top can was fitted with a firing head, and when the iron weight hit this, after a long fall, it would explode, and the concussion would set off the rest of the glycerine." "But this time we tried a new plan.
Then they put a dynamite torpedo down in the well and explode it. They have a little bar of iron that they call a Go-devil, and they just drop it down on the business end of the torpedo, and then stand from under, if you please!
A steady fire, undismayed, did continue to come from the cabin. Van Horn, who had run to the extreme right of the new sector, and was keeping a close watch on the go-devil, was the first to perceive trouble. "Hell's delight, boys," he cried, taken aback, "he's shooting up the wheels." The words flew around behind the rocks. The rifle fire was explained.
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