"Bloodthirsty as ever, I see!" laughed Ned as Jimmie became enthusiastic over the game. "Always looking for trouble!"
"We ought to put a black mask on the Wolf," added Jack, "and give him first shot. Executioners in the olden days wore black masks!"
"I'm no train robber!" protested Jimmie indignantly. "Keep the masks for the other fellows. I'll stand up and play fair!"
"But you'll oblige us by taking the first shot, won't you?"
"Thanks!" dryly responded the lad, wrinkling his freckled nose.
"Firing squad, attention!" sung out Jack in an authoritative tone. "'Tenshun! Ready! Aim! Fire!"
At the command Jimmie raised his automatic directed toward the target. With the word "Fire" he rapidly touched the trigger, sending all eight shots hurtling toward the dynamite.
Mingled with the reverberations of his shots a loud, sharp detonation from the wreckage told the boys that Jimmie's aim had been true. Pieces of timber thrown high in the air by the explosion came tumbling to the beach in confusion. Astonished, the boys viewed the result.
"Just imagine where we would have been with that stuff in the crank case!" whispered Jimmie in an awestruck tone.
"Let's get back to work and get out of this place!" suggested Jack. "This makes me nervous! I want to get busy!"