Quite a crowd of persons were on hand to witness the operations, as word of what was intended had spread through the neighborhood. There were also several other reporters there, and one or two photographers. Larry found the foreman in charge of the work, and asked him to explain the plan, so as to get a good understanding of it when he should write the story. The foreman went into details about putting a small charge of dynamite under one corner of the stack. “The force of dynamite is mainly downward,” he stated. “But we think there will be enough upward power to the blast to gently tilt the chimney over to the east, where it will fall without doing any damage.” “What if it falls the other way, and crashes down on top of those low buildings?” asked Larry. “We have it guyed up with ropes to prevent that,” was the answer. “I guess there’s no danger.” The preliminary work was almost finished, when a man, carrying a red flag, came out of a small shanty. “There goes the dynamite,” said Larry, to the picture man. “Now you’ll see some fun, I am thinking.” The foreman made everyone move back out of harm’s way. Most persons were glad enough to obey the request, but the reporters, including Larry, said if they had to stay so far back they could see nothing. “But think of the risk you run,” objected the foreman. “Some of you may be killed.” “We’ll take the chance,” replied several. “We want to be close by when the stack hits the ground, and so do the photographers.” The foreman interposed no more objections, but ordered the work to go on. The reporters were gathered in a little group, and after talking matters over decided to move toward a small tool shanty, that stood well to the left of the stack. “There’ll be no danger then,” agreed Larry. So the scribes went to the hut. The man with the red flag had placed the explosive at the bottom of the stack, and, seeing that everything was in readiness, waved his flag at a signal that he was about to touch off the fuse. At this sign of danger the crowd pressed farther back. A thin spiral of smoke arose from the fuse. The man with the red flag ran off at top speed. From a window of the shanty the whole affair could be seen. Suddenly there came a dull, rumbling sound, and the earth shook. Then a little cloud of bricks, mortar, and dust shot upward. Next the tall stack, the foundation of which had been weakened, began slowly to tilt over. As the foreman had desired, it was falling to the left. Then all at once the stack seemed to hesitate. It appeared to be poised, like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Next, as though the direction had been changed by a giant’s hand, the chimney began falling toward the shanty. “Those reporters will all be killed!” cried the foreman. “I warned them of the danger. Come out of that!” he yelled, as if they had a chance to obey. Swiftly the tower was coming nearer the earth.