under the express-car and were so preoccupied that they did not notice the faint blue streak of smoke immediately over their heads. Then Red glanced up to see what it was that sizzed, saw the glowing end of a three-inch fuse, and blanched. It was death not to dare and his hand shot up and back, and the dynamite cartridge sailed far behind him to the edge of the embankment, where it hung on a bush.
"Good!" panted Hopalong. "We 'll pay 'em for that!"
"They 're worse 'n rustlers!"
They could hear the messenger running about over their heads, dragging and up-ending heavy objects against the doors of the car, and Hopalong laughed grimly:
"Luck 's with this messenger, all right."
"It ought to be—he 's a fighter."
"Where are they? Have they tumbled to our game?"
"They 're waiting for the explosion, you chump."
