Their lives hung by a
hair. At any moment the flames might reach the dynamite and
then--annihilation, swift and terrible.
"Now!" he cried, dropping the bar. A strange light, not of fear but of
determination, gleamed in his eyes.
Clang!
The bar fell to the ground, and the besieged party dashed forth, firing
as they emerged.
Suddenly, from without, and just as the insurrectos espied the daring
sortie, there came the shrill notes of a bugle. At the same instant a
ringing cheer came over the top of the stockade.
What could it all mean? As if in a dream, the boys saw the insurrectos
picking up their rifles and rushing toward the gate. But before they
could reach it, a glorious sight greeted them.
A regiment of regular Mexican cavalry, the men with their carbines
unslung, pouring a disastrous hail into the swarming insurrectos,
suddenly swung through the shattered gateway.
Shouts and cries responded everywhere within the stockade. The
terrified insurrectos dropped their rifles and ran hither and thither
in mad, frenzied panic.
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