“Pedro said the savages wouldn’t dare enter the temple!” declared Jimmie as he drew back.
Without stopping to comment on the situation, Carl called out:
“Drop, Sam, drop!”
The young man whirled about, saw the opening in the rear wall, saw the brown barrels of the automatics, and instantly dropped to the floor. The Indians advanced no farther, for in less time than it takes to say the words a rain of bullets struck into their ranks. Half a dozen fell to the floor and the others retreated, sneaking back in a minute, however, to remove the bodies of their dead and wounded companions.
The boys did not fire while this duty was being performed.
In a minute from the time of the opening of the stone panel in the wall there was not a savage in sight. Only for the smears of blood on the white marble floor, and on the steps outside, no one would have imagined that so great a tragedy had been enacted there only a few moments before. Sam rose slowly to his feet and stood by the boys as they crawled out of the narrow opening just above the basin of the fountain.
“I’m glad to see you, kids,” he said, in a matter-of-fact tone, although his face was white to the lips. “You came just in time!”
“We usually do arrive on schedule,” Jimmie grinned, trying to make as little as possible of the rescue.
“You did this time at any rate!” replied Sam. “But, look here,” he went on, glancing at the automatics in their hands, “I thought the ammunition was all used up in the den of lions.”
“We got some more!” laughed Carl.