Part 16 (1/2)

Rick said swiftly, ”Connel got to Guevara! And Guevara is going to make sure we don't spread the word!”

”Rick is probably right,” Zircon snapped. ”I suggest we clear out. If we're captured, we'll be unable to operate at all.”

”Grab the supplies and get into the jeeps,” Hartson Brant ordered.

”Quickly! Rick, you and Scotty move fast. Get your stuff into the jeep, then take as much dynamite as you can. Go up the road to where you have a good view and act as lookouts. Give us as much warning as you can.

We'll take the rest of the dynamite and the equipment in the other jeeps!”

Rick and Scotty dashed to their room. They threw clothes into their bags, slammed them shut without bothering to pack neatly, and hurried out into the parking lot. Rick backed the jeep up to the pump shed while Scotty ran to the door. To the policeman on duty he explained only that they were in a great hurry.

The boys took time to load six cases, plus one of the detonators and a roll of wire, then they got into the jeep and roared off up the road toward the pumice works.

”We've probably got ten minutes,” Scotty estimated. ”If they're marching at a normal pace, it would take them a little less than a half hour to walk from the pumice works.”

Rick drove a half mile up the road to where he had a good view of several hundred yards and stopped the jeep. ”We'll be able to spot them from here.” He turned the jeep around, ready to run as soon as the troops came in sight. ”Where do you suppose the soldiers came from?”

”Probably from a camp near San Souci,” Scotty guessed. ”Otherwise, they'd have come up the main road from Calor. There's probably a camp on the western sh.o.r.e somewhere.”

”Wish we had some way of slowing them down,” Rick mused. ”We need a mortar or a few military rockets. But all we've got is some dynamite, and we can't throw that very far.”

”Why do we have to throw it?” Scotty asked excitedly. ”Listen. We'll put a charge by the side of the road and string wire back a way. Then we can park the jeep off the road next to the detonator. When they get within range, we'll push the plunger and run. We can time it so they won't get blown up, but they may think they're being sh.e.l.led.”

”That should do it,” Rick agreed. He s.h.i.+fted into gear and moved ahead slowly, searching for a likely spot. There was one a few yards ahead where a clump of wild banana plants would s.h.i.+eld the jeep from view. He backed the jeep in next to the banana plants and made sure he could get out again easily, then he took the coil of wire and began unwinding it along the edge of the road. Scotty took out his scout knife and began to pry open a case of dynamite.

Rick fed wire until he reached a spot a hundred yards up the road, then took out his knife and cut through the thin stuff. He started back to help Scotty and was just in time to see the dark-haired boy with a stick of dynamite in his mouth!

Rick gasped. He started to run toward Scotty, but his pal waved him back. Then, as Rick watched, horrified, he saw Scotty take the stick out of his mouth and motion for him to come ahead.

”What are you doing?” Rick demanded. ”I thought for a minute you'd lost all your b.u.t.tons and started eating dynamite.”

”We didn't have crimpers,” Scotty explained. ”The only way I could get the cap on was to crimp it with my teeth.”

Rick turned white. He gulped. No wonder Scotty looked a little pale!

”It worked,” Scotty said, a little shakily. ”But I don't want to do it as a regular thing.”

”I should hope not!” Rick exclaimed fervently. ”Give me that stick. I'll connect up. Will one be enough?”

”Plenty,” Scotty said. ”Get going. I'll connect up the detonator.”

By the time Rick had placed the dynamite and connected the wires, Scotty was ready, the detonator in the front seat of the jeep between his legs.

”I wish we had some regular fuse,” he said. ”Then we could put short fuses on a few sticks, light them, and throw them.”

Rick stared at him. ”And crimp all the caps with your teeth? Boy, I'm glad we haven't any fuse!”

Scotty's estimate was two minutes off. It took twelve minutes for the troops to come into sight. Watching from behind the banana plants, the boys saw them hiking down the road like a bunch of tenderfeet on their first five-mile hike. It was obvious that discipline in the San Luzian army was slack. The men wore sloppy brown uniforms and a variety of hats. They carried rifles and there were bandoliers of cartridges across their chests and grenades at their belts.

”Can you see?” Rick whispered.

”Fine,” Scotty whispered back.