ugh. Hurry!"

"All right. Just a minute," he called.

I heard him empty his magazine with almost machine-gun quickness.
There was a short pause, and down the broken steps he leaped, gray eyes
blazing.

"The pony?" He ran beside me toward the portal. "All my ammunition is on
him."

"Chiu-Ming's taking care of that," I gasped.

We darted out of the gateway. A good five hundred yards away were Ruth
and Drake, running straight to the green tunnel's mouth. Between them
and us was Chiu-Ming urging on the pony.

As we sped after him I looked back. The horsemen had recovered, were
now a scant half-mile from where the road swept past the fortress. I saw
that with their swords the horsemen bore great bows. A little cloud of
arrows sparkled from them; fell far short.

"Don't look back," grunted Ventnor. "Stretch yourself, Walter. There's a
surprise coming. Hope to God I judged the time right."

We turned off the ruined way; raced over the sward.

"If it looks as though--we can't make it," he panted, "YOU beat it after
the rest. I'll try to hold 'em until you get into the tunnel. Never do
for 'em to get Ruth."

"Right." My own breathing was growing labored, "WE'LL hold them. Drake
can take care of Ruth."

"Good boy," he said. "I wouldn't have asked you. It probably means
death."

"Very well," I gasped, irritated. "But why borrow trouble?"

He reached out, touched me.

"You're right, Walter," he grinned. "It does--seem--like carrying
coals--to Newcastle."

There was a thunderous booming behind us; a shattering crash. A cloud of
smoke and dust hung over the northern end of the ruined fortress.

It lifted swiftly, and I saw that the whole side of the structure had
fallen, littering the road with its fragments. Scattered prone among
these were men and horses; others staggered, screaming. On the farther
side of this stony dike our pursuers were held like rushing waters
behind a sudden fallen tree.

"Timed to a second!" cried Ventnor. "Hold 'em for a while. Fuses and
dynamite. Blew out the whole side, right on 'em, by the Lord!"

On we fled. Chiu-Ming was now well in advance; Ruth and Dick less than
half a mile from the opening of the green tunnel. I saw Drake stop,
raise his rifle, empty it before him, and, holding Ruth by the hand,
race back toward us.

Even as he turned, the vine-screened entrance through which we had come,
through which we had thought lay safety, streamed other armored men. We
were outflanke