Cold sweat trickled down Gary's sides. The madman was blocking them in as he had blocked the dry entrance to the cavern far back in the canyon of the water hole. "What do you want?" yelled Gary. "Tell us! What do you want?" His voice seemed to boom in the shaft.
"Gold," said a faraway-sounding voice. "The gold…"
"We haven't found any!"
Gravel trickled down again. The scuffling continued. Gary chanced another lighting of the lamp. This time he clearly saw the wet face peering down between two of the logs. The dark hair, bound by a dirty wet cloth, and painted across the nose were two bands of white paint, while the dark eyes seemed to burn with madness and hate. Then the face vanished and the eerie laughter drifted down to them again.
Gary stepped back. His hands were shaking. Tuck gripped him around the shoulders. "Who was it?"
Gary shivered. "It was him all right. Asesino. I saw him, Tuck. I saw him!" Gary's voice rose sharply.
Tuck's hand cracked against Gary's head. "Snap out of it, amigo!" he said. "Don't you go loco on us! We need you, Gary! You can't let us down now!"
Gary's nerves calmed down. "Thanks," he said quietly. "Never thought I'd be thanking a fella for bopping me."
Gary walked back into the drift. They could hear their attacker hard at work up there, blocking the way. It would have been better to have hunted for him, as he had hunted for them. But with a man like that, an outlaw hunted for so many years, his senses would have been honed to the edge native only to animals.
"He said he only wanted the gold," said Sue.
"He said he wanted gold, and there wasn't any only in what he said," corrected Tuck. "In the first place, we haven't got any gold. In the second place, if we did have it, and we let him have it, do you think he'd let us get out of here alive?"
Lobo was now almost in a paroxysm of rage. He barked and growled, and the sound of it was a terrible thing. Gary finally managed to quiet him. There was no sound coming from above. Gary aimed the light up the shaft again. All he could see were the logs, with packed dirt and rock showing between them. They had been neatly sealed into the shaft, and there wasn't any doubt in Gary's mind about who was waiting up there for them if they tried to dig their way to freedom.
Gary lighted the lamp again when he was in the drift. "Come on," he said. "There's air coming in here from somewhere. We've got food and water. We're not licked yet!"
Tuck grinned. "I never thought I'd have to belt you, Gary, but now that I did, I'm not sorry. ¡Adelante!"
Gary led the way back to the large squared-off room and into the drift beyond it. Ten minutes later the three of them stopped in dismay. The drift had narrowed and a heavy fall of rock had almost completely sealed the passageway. Air drifted through the narrow space between the top of the drift and the piled-up debris. Gary crawled up the pile and flashed the lamp over it. The air blew damply against his face, but he could see little with the lamp. They'd have to dig through.
The three of them set to work, with Sue relieving the boys in turn, while Lobo stood guard behind them. Now that the entrance to the shaft had been sealed behind them, the draft died away and the stifling dust hung heavily in the drift, but the air was fresh enough.
Gary was ten feet into the pile when Sue crawled up beside him. "Maybe we ought to rest," she suggested wearily.
Gary shook his head. "No," he said. "We keep on!"
"It's after eleven o'clock, Gary!" she protested.
Gary jerked a thumb back over his shoulder. "He isn't sleeping," he said quietly. She knew whom he meant.
Hours passed, and then Tuck weakly drove his entrenching tool against a big rock. The handle snapped and then the rock slid heavily down a steep slope, followed by Tuck riding the slide to the bottom of the drift. Gary crawled after him and flashed the weakening lamp up the drift. The way seemed clear enough now. The two of them crawled through their little tunnel to get Sue. She was sound asleep with her back against a pit prop and with Lobo's head nestled on her lap.
Gary walked partway back into the drift to listen. It was as quiet as the grave. He winced mentally at the simile. That squared-off room had been puzzling him all night. He walked slowly back to it and flicked out his lamp to replace the batteries. He lighted the lamp again and instantly saw a niche cut into the far wall with something resting upon it.
"Come on, Gary!" called Tuck. "The bus is leaving!"
"Wait a bit!"
The two Brownes came into the room. Gary walked toward the niche and flashed the lamp upon the shelf. His breath caught in his throat. There were half a dozen objects resting upon it, somewhat brick-shaped, but about half the size of a common brick, and the edges were roughly rounded. Dust was thick upon them. He reached out a hand and then quickly withdrew it, stepping back to flash the light on the roughly hewn wall.
"What is it, Gary?" asked Tuck.
Gary turned slowly. "I think we have found what we've been looking for," he said quietly.
"A way out?"
"No. Gold, amigo!"
"Those bricks?"
Gary nodded.
"Let's get 'em and get out then!" Tuck started forward.
"Wait!" snapped Gary.
Tuck turned slowly. "Why? You loco?"
Gary shook his head. "We've got to watch for traps." He picked up his entrenching tool and firmly lashed it to the barrels of the shotgun. He raised the gun, then jerked his head at the two Brownes. "Get back into the drift," he cautioned. He reached forward, slid the edge of the tool beneath an end brick, and lifted it up. He turned and passed it back to Tuck. Again he reached out and scooped up another brick, passing it back to Tuck. Sweat appeared on his brow as he lifted the third one. Nothing happened. He was almost ready to grab the rest of them by hand, but something held him back. He scooped up the fourth brick and as it cleared the shelf, something creaked dryly.
"These are pure gold!" said Tuck wildly.
"Gold!" shrieked Sue. "Gold!" She danced madly about. "Get the rest of 'em! GOLD!"
Gary began to lift the fifth brick, and as he did so the creaking noise came again, but this time it was louder. He dropped the brick and jumped back. As he did so Tuck flashed the light on the wall. The wall was moving, falling forward with a creaking, grating noise. Then it fell heavily and solidly, some of the material striking Gary's feet. The wall was completely collapsed, and the rays of the lamp reflected dully off piles of the roughly shaped bricks set into the hewn-out area behind the wall. Then the roof dropped to conceal the amassed wealth of the Lost Espectro. Gary slammed full tilt into Tuck and Sue, driving them along the drift as rock and earth thudded behind them, raising a thick, choking cloud of dust. "Run!" yelled Gary. He turned to look back. Tuck flashed the lamp and through the thickening dust they could see a bizarre sight. A lean wet face, streaked with white paint, peered through the swirling haze, then the mouth opened to shriek madly.
Gary raised the shotgun and wildly fired both barrels, not even bothering about the lashed entrenching tool that thrust itself out from the barrels like a spade bayonet of ancient times. The noise from the gun was deafening. The face vanished behind the dust and more falling rock and earth. Gary did not stop to see the result of his firing. He was running for dear life along the drift, with rock and dirt pattering down behind him. He saw Tuck's legs wriggling out of sight atop the tunnel block and he dived in after them. Tuck broke into the open and slid wildly down the slope, with Gary helter-skelter, head over heels, atop his partner and Lobo atop Gary.