"We ought to quit!" Al chattered. "We can't lick them!"
His face whiter and more contorted than ever, Limpy said: "Why don't you guys beat it?"
Mac's head jerked up sharply. Swede looked at Limpy in mild surprise. Al Birchall's chin dropped.
"What do you mean—us guys?" Al demanded. "What about you?"
Both sides of Limpy's face grinned sardonically. "No boat, all the animals set free—you'll have to run for it. And me? Well, I'm not much good at running. But you three can escape, if I'm not along to hold you back."
"I'm a heel," snarled Birchall. "Forget what I said."
"Sure, Limpy," Swede added with clumsy joviality. "This little ape is always talking before he thinks. We're sticking—all of us."
"Cut it out!" snapped Limpy. "Somebody has to stay here to throw the dynamite switch. I don't need any help."
"Nobody's throwing any switch," Mac declared. "This is our mine, and no damned vermin are taking it over!"
"But you'll never beat them," pleaded Limpy. "And even if you did, they'd only keep coming back until they got the place. You can't wipe them out once and for all."