The gap through which they had made their escape was widened until it would admit a dozen men with equipment. Lanterns were passed through. Dillinger stripped off his shirt and examined the wall of rock that filled the rear of the tunnel.
It was hot. The air was heavy with the settling dust. Fallon moved beside him. “We’ve got to keep on digging. At least we’ve got the tools.”
Rojas crawled through the darkness to join them. He reached up and touched the ceiling. Immediately several flakes of stone peeled away.
“It wouldn’t take much to bring down the rest.”
“We’ll be all right if we’re damn careful,” Fallon told him, trying to sound confident.
They labored feverishly in the weird, dust-filled light, stripped to their waists, sweat glistening on their naked backs. Rojas proved to be a pillar of strength, his great hands lifting, unaided, rocks which Dillinger and Fallon together would have found difficulty in moving. Behind them formed a line of Indians, passing the baskets of stone and earth backwards.
They worked in shifts, supporting the roof with fresh timbering as they advanced, but progress was slow. The lack of air and the great heat made it impossible for anyone to last at the face for longer than half an hour at a time. By the middle of the afternoon they were no more than forty feet into the tunnel.
Just after three, Rojas, in front, let loose a groan.
“What is it?” Dillinger demanded.
Rojas turned, the whites of his eyes shining in the lamplight. Dillinger crawled forward into the narrow cutting they had cleared in the heart of the rockfall. An immense slab of stone weighing at least five or six tons was stretched across their path.
Fallon crouched at his side and whistled softly. “We haven’t a hope in hell of moving that by hand.”
“What about dynamite?” Dillinger said.
Rojas sucked in his breath sharply. “You must be crazy. Half a stick would be enough to bring down the rest of the mountain.”
“If there’s anyone still alive back there, they’re going to die anyway,” Dillinger said. “At least we’d be giving them a sporting chance.”
He crawled back along the tunnel past the line of Indians and emerged into bright sunlight.
The whole village seemed to be there, women and children included, some squatting on the earth, others standing as they waited patiently.
Dillinger thought, Whoever thinks robbing a bank is dangerous ought to try this sometime.
An Indian handed him a bucket of water, and he raised it to his lips, drinking deeply before pouring the rest over his head and shoulders. Then he noticed Rivera.
“How bad?” Rivera asked.
“We’ve gone as far as we can with pick and shovel. There’s a five-ton slab blocking our way.”
“Have you tried splitting it?”
“It would take hours by hand,” Dillinger said. “Dynamite is the only answer.”
“It could also bring the whole place down.”
“Maybe, but there are at least twenty men in there according to Rojas. If we don’t get them out within three or four hours, they’ll be dead.”
“You don’t even know that they are alive now.”
“For Christ’s sake, we’ve got to try,” Fallon said.
“He’s right,” Dillinger said. “They deserve some sort of chance.”
Rivera said, “I am not going to destroy the source of gold to save a few Indians. You can try to reach them with pick and shovel. On no account will you use dynamite.”
“We’ll see about that,” Dillinger said.
As Dillinger turned to go, he heard Fallon’s “Watch out!” Rivera had leveled the revolver in his hand at the back of Dillinger’s skull.
“One false move and you’re dead,” Rivera said. Then he called out, “Are you there, Rojas?”
“Yes, patron.” Rojas had three mestizos beside him now, all armed.
“Excellent. Now this is what I want. You, Fallon, get back into the mine and keep the men digging around the big slab. No dynamite!”
“Yes, senor,” Fallon said like a beaten man.
“As for you,” Rivera said to Dillinger, “your friend Rojas will sit alongside you as you drive your pretty white car back to Hermosa where you will be turned over to the authorities, who will advise their American counterparts that they have captured the man in the white convertible. Understood? You are finished here.”