"And we've got the dynamiter. He's your friend—"
The rest of the words died away as the light burned itself out. Intense blackness succeeded.
"Come on!" cried Joe. "They've got him. We won't have to work the hand cameras. The automatic did it!"
They stumbled on through the darkness. Lanterns were brought and they saw Mr. Alcando a prisoner in the midst of the Canal guards. The Spaniard looked at the boys, and smiled sadly.
"Well, it—it's all over," he said. "But it isn't as bad as it seems."
"It's bad enough, as you'll find," said Captain Wiltsey grimly. "Are you sure the wires are disconnected, boys?" he asked.
"Sure," replied Blake, holding out the brass box.
"Oh, so you found it," said the Spaniard. "Well, even if it had gone off there wouldn't have been much of an explosion."
"It's easy enough to say that—now," declared the captain.
But later, when they followed up the wires which Blake had severed, which had run from the brass-bound box to a point near the spillway of the dam, it was found that only a small charge of dynamite had been buried there—a charge so small that it could not possibly have done more than very slight damage to the structure.