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“He couldn’t help it!” cried the boy, horrified that what he had done might get someone else into trouble. “I jumped the bucket in the mixing plant and I was halfway across before Billy ever saw me!”, In this he was not mistaken. Miguel produced from around his body a coil of fuse and began joining the sticks of dynamite and placing detonating caps in them. Every muscle in the boy’s body ached to jump from the hiding place and grapple with the man who was arranging such wholesale destruction, but evidently the Indian realized what was going on within him, for he felt a restraining touch on his arm. At once he knew what it meant. The Indian was telling him that it would be foolish to attack the Mexican when he had so much sudden death in his hands. Before they could reach him, no matter how swiftly they acted, the Mexican could throw the dynamite and the damage would be done. There was nothing to do but wait and hope that Miguel would give them an opening when there was more possibility of averting the catastrophe., “Think I’ll go along then,” stated Bob as casually as possible. “I’ve never been up that way and I’d like to see the country that the lake will cover.”.