"We might get out of here," he said, "if we had a ton of dynamite. I
don't know but I'd take a chance on getting injured myself in order to
see these Chinks sailing into the sky."
Jack, still suspicious of Sandy, turned toward him with a frown. The
lad met the other's eyes steadily.
"Do you know the way out of this?" Jack asked.
"No," admitted the boy. "Never was in here before. Never knew there
was such a place."
"Well," Jack went on, "the longer we remain here the longer we'll be in
finding our chums. I'm going to make a break."
"If you have a gun," Sandy said, calmly, "I'll go ahead with it. If I
get plugged, or anythin' like that, you boys may be able to get away.
These Chinks are quick to run if there is danger ahead, and I think I
can scare them off. Give me the gun!"
Sandy reached out his hand, but Frank did not extend the gun he had
taken from his pocket.
"You're nervy, all right," he said, "but you don't have to take all the
risk. Suppose we wait until daylight and then make a rush?"
"Why daylight?" asked Jack.
"There may then be some friendly face in sight, if we are able to get to
the street."
"There's force in that," Jack replied, "but this is no palace car to
wait in."
"You let me go and try," Sandy urged.
Frank shook his head gravely.
"No use," he said. "There are probably a score or more of Chinks around
this old shack. We've got to wait until morning before we try to get
away.
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