"Are all the men out?" asked the young inventor of Tim Sullivan, who had charge of this important matter. Tim was in sole charge as foreman now, having picked up enough of the Indian language to get along without an interpreter.
"All out, sor," Tim responded. "Yez fire whin ready, Mr. Swift."
It was a moment. No wonder Tom Swift hesitated. In a sense he and his friends, the , had staked their all on a single throw. If this blast failed it was not likely that another would succeed, even if there should be time to prepare one.
The time limit had almost expired, and there was still a half mile of hard rock between the last heading and the farther end of the big tunnel. If the blast succeeded enough rock might be brought down to enable the work to go on, by using a night and day shift of men. Then, too, there was the chance that the hard of rock would come to an end and softer stone, or easily-dug dirt, be encountered.
"Well, we may as well have it over with," said Tom in a low voice. Every one was very quiet—tensely quiet.
The young inventor looked up to see Professor observing him.
"Why, Professor!" Tom exclaimed, "I thought you had gone off to the mountains again, looking for the lost city."
"I am going, Tom, very soon. I thought I would stop and see the effect of your big blast. This is my last trip. If I do not find the hidden city of Pelone this time, I am going to give up."
"Give up!" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless my fountain pen!"
"Oh, not altogether," went on the bald-headed scientist. "I mean I will give up searching in this part of Peru, and go elsewhere. But I will never completely give up the search, for I am sure the hidden city exists somewhere under these mountains," and he looked off toward the snow-covered peaks of the Andes.
Tom looked at the battery box. He drew a long breath, and said:
"Here she goes!"
There was a of his hand as he pressed the switch over, and then, for perhaps a half second, nothing happened. Just for an instant Tom feared something had gone wrong that the electric current had failed, or that the wires had become disconnected—perhaps through some action of the plotting rivals.
And then, gently at first, but with increasing , the solid ground on which they were all seemed to rock and sway, to heave itself up, and then sink down.
"Bless my—" began Mr. Damon, but he got no further, for a of wind swept out of the tunnel, and blew off his hat. That gust was but a gentle breeze, though, compared to what followed. For there came such a rush of air that it almost blew over those standing near the opening of the great driven under the mountain. There was a roar as of Niagara, a howling as in the Cave of the Winds, and they all to the blast.
Then followed a dull, roar, not as loud as might have been expected, but awful in its intensity. Deep down under the very foundations of the earth it seemed to
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Chapter XXIII A Great Blast
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Chapter XXV Success
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