ugh to be in its grasp.
Like a thing of life the sand sucked and pulled at Wyckoff's feet. He
felt himself being drawn into the terrible danger.
"Help. Help," he cried, flinging his arms toward the firmer ground.
"Pete, give me a hand! I'm going down."
For answer Lopez flung his rifle up. A spurt of flame was his answer.
Horrified, the boys expected to see Wyckoff drop. To their amazement
Lopez had missed. Then they saw Wyckoff throw his knife straight at
Lopez. It struck the man in the forehead.
CHAPTER XXV
THE TREASURE
Lopez staggered back a pace. His rifle fell from his grasp as he
tottered backward and lay prostrate beside the spot where also lay the
negro that had earlier suffered at his hands.
Wyckoff's desperate aim had been true. The knife had sped straight to
its mark and buried its point in Lopez's brain. He was beyond all help.
But Wyckoff still struggled frantically.
Tom had been busy meanwhile with the length of line brought from the
boat. It had not been intended for such a purpose, but now the boys were
glad they had brought it with them.
All with one consent dashed from their position and ran toward the
unfortunate outlaw, now nearly frantic. As they approached he looked up
at them. Seized with a fit of coughing, he fell partly forward. Then the
boys knew from the blood that gushed from his mouth that Lopez's last
bullet had found its mark.
Tom, undaunted, prepared to throw his lasso. As he did so Wyckoff again
straightened in a mad effort to tear himself from the terrible sands.
Then the boys witnessed a curious sight.
It seemed that the depression into which they looked formed a sort of
bowl partly full, like a bowl of porridge, with Wyckoff struggling in it
at the side nearest their position. As they looked, the contents of the
bowl seemed to heave and boil, then turn over and over. Wyckoff started
down more rapidly while the boiling sands at the other side seemed to
rise.
Tom quickly flung his noose. His aim was distracted, no doubt, by the
excitement through which he had just passed. Instead of encircling the
unfortunate wretch below, he threw the noose beyond. It fell spread
widely on the boiling sands. It was in such a position that Wyckoff
could not reach it. He made a despairing effort to grasp the rope and
then, as the sands about him were boiling and seething, he sank lower
and lower. At last with a shriek he disappeared and the boys saw him no
more.
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