“It isn’t quite as easy a job as the captain thought,” said Donald after the battering had continued for several minutes.
“I should say not!” declared Adrian. “He never will get in that way. Why doesn’t he blow it open?”
“Maybe he doesn’t know how!”
“Then we’d better go and show him! He’s wasting time.”
The words were hardly out of his mouth when the air was rent by a terrific explosion and great pieces of rock and a cloud of dust and dirt were thrown high into the air, almost burying the Broncho Rider Boys and their companion in the débris.
The smugglers had fired a mine which had been arranged for just such an attack.
As soon as the boys could gain their feet and free themselves from the pile of dirt which had been thrown up, they turned their attention to the rurales to see what might have been the damage done. Fortunately it was slight. Two men had been killed and three wounded, but not seriously. The worst feature of the explosion was that the rear entrance to the cave had been so blocked with the falling rock, that an entrance was impossible without much digging and clearing away of the rubbish.
However, if the rurales could not get in, neither could the smugglers get out, except by the river entrance. That they had no desire to do so was soon evident, for before the main force, accompanied by the boys, could reach the river front, the smugglers—or as many as could be loaded into three skiffs—emerged from the cave on the river side.
That they had not expected to meet any resistance in that quarter was evident from the fact that they were not at all prepared to fight, nor did they
take any precaution to defend themselves until greeted by a volley from the rurales stationed on the opposite side of the creek.