"Well, he'll have a man's-sized job on his hands," rejoined Buck, calmly reloading the magazine of his rifle and running a cleaning rod through the foul barrel. The others employed their time in the same manner. Thus they waited for what seemed an interminable age. Still there was no sign of the Mexicans. The yard without was empty of life. "If they don't show up in a few minutes, what say if we open the door and make a rush for it?" asked Jack. "As good an idea as any," rejoined Buck, "but what I would like to know right now is what they can be doing." "Queer, ain't it?" said Pete. They all agreed that it was, but not one could hit upon an explanation that seemed plausible. Suddenly, Buck, who had been sniffing suspiciously for a few seconds, gave a sharp exclamation. "Do you fellows smell anything?" "No----" began Jack, and then: "Good heavens, yes! Something's on fire!" "That's right," agreed Pete, without a quaver in his voice. "The varmints hev set fire to the building from the rear." "That's what!" rejoined Buck, "and we can't get within a mile of them. I don't suppose there are any rifle holes in the specie room are there, Mr. Geisler?" "Nodt a vun," rejoined the German, in a peculiar voice, and then they noticed, in the gloomy light of the closed-up place, that his face was ashen white. It was clear that the German was badly frightened. His knees seemed to be knocking together, in fact. Small wonder, too. The sharp, acrid smell of blazing wood was in the air now. They could hear the crackle of the flames as they devoured the wooden outer walls of the specie room. "Come, cheer up, my man," Buck admonished the quaking German. "Why you've stood it all through like a major, and----" "Idt ain't dot. Idt ain't dose mis-er-able creasers dot I'm afraid of," rejoined the German in a quavering voice. "What then?" "Dot room behindt us contains, besides der specie, almost a ton of dynamite!" "Great jumping wildcats!" The exclamation dropped from Buck's lips. The others were too thunderstruck to utter a word. "There's only one thing to do," spoke up Pete, his words fairly tumbling out of his mouth in his haste. "We must open the door and, at a signal, make a rush for it. We may never get through, but it's better than being blown up as we shall be if we remain here. The insurrectos must have left their horses somewhere near at hand. Maybe we can find them and escape." "It's one chance in a thousand!" exclaimed Jack. "But perhaps this will be the thousandth time." "Let us pray so!" exclaimed the professor fervently. Buck had sprung to the door. His hand was on the bar. He knew, as did they all, that there was not an instant to lose. Their lives hung by a hair. At any moment the flames might reach the dynamite and then--annihilation, swift and terrible. "Now!" he cried, dropping the bar. A strange light, not of fear but of determination, gleamed in his eyes. Clang!