He picked one up and handled it inquisitively, with a shrewd idea of
what might be, or might have been, inside. The cord was very loose, as
though the contents had shrunk since it was tied. As he fumbled with it
in the dark, it came open and left him no possible room for doubt as to
what those contents were. He sneezed till the top of his head seemed
like to lift, and the tears ran down his cheeks in an unceasing stream.
What had once been tobacco had powdered into snuff, and his rough
handling of the package had scattered it broadcast.
He turned at last, and lay with his head in his arms against the wall
until the air should have time to clear, and meanwhile the sneezing had
quickened his wits.
Here was possible tinder, and by means of those dried-up wrappings he
might procure a light. If it lasted but five minutes it might enable him
to solve the problem on which he had stumbled.
He groped again for the opened package, and found it on the dead man's
face. The wrapper was of tarred cloth, almost perished with age, dry and
friable. Shaking out the rest of the snuff at arm's length, he picked
the stuff to pieces and shredded it into tinder.
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