I heard a clap of
thunder, and then I went flying over backward into a blackberry patch."
"That was the recoil," said Tom.
"The what?" asked Ned.
"The recoil. The recoil of the gun knocked you over."
"Oh, yes," observed Ned, rubbing his shoulder in a reflective
sort of way. "I always thought it was something like that. But,
at the time I put it down to an explosion, and let it go at that."
"No, it wasn't an explosion, properly speaking," said Tom. "You
see, when powder explodes, in a gun, or otherwise, its force is
exerted in all directions, up, down and every way."
"This went mostly backward--in my direction," said Ned ruefully.
"You only thought so," returned Tom. "Most of the power went
out in front, to force out the shot. Part of it, of course, was
exerted on the barrel of the gun--that was sideways--but the
strength of the steel held it in. And part of the force went
backward against your shoulder. That part was the recoil, and it
is the recoil of the guns I figure on putting aboard my aerial
warship that is giving me such trouble."
"Is that what makes you look so blue?" asked Ned.
"That's it. I can't seem to find a way by which to take up the
recoil, and the force of it, from all the guns I want to carry,
will just about tear my ship to pieces, I figure.
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