"She can't have bagged the lot," he muttered, fanning his torch into a red flare. "But she'll pay for deserting Stumpy, or Stumpy's a liar!"
He found the powder train, and the moisture had dried from it, leaving only a little line of dry, quick-igniting powder. He was not sure just where the magazine was; not sure how long the train would burn before the explosion. So down he clambered again, searching at the great altar for the water-vessels he knew should be there. Then, with a jar of water, he returned to his train, and swiftly swept up the dry powder and moistened it a little, making a rough slow match of it.
"Now we'll see the sights!" he growled, and went to the end of the gallery and flung his torch into the train.
He watched it for a moment, to be sure that it would burn, then stepped down from the ledge and drew back a safe distance to watch the upheaval. To what extent the mine was intended to destroy he had no idea. He simply knew that Dolores had pointed it out to him as a means of defense should the gallery be carried in the attack. He supposed, therefore, that it would shatter the gallery. Doing that, it must surely dislodge or loosen rock enough for him to break into the great chamber with aid.
The thought recalled his men to his mind, and he saw for the first time that they had not followed him. He started down the path toward the camp, shouting to them by name, eager to give them an inkling of the treat in store. But his hail was answered by another, and down the path a woman appeared running, her hair flying, and tremendous excitement in every line of her face.
"Stumpy! Stumpy!" she sobbed and cried in hysterical intoxication. "Oh, Stumpy, the great chamber is open, and it's full of gold and treasure!"