Page 47 - Super Cowboy Rides Again

smell burning coal—a sure sign of the fires down
below. I personally thought it smelled like kerosene,
but it wasn’t my most brilliant day, and I didn’t
consider from where it might be coming.

Buster suggested we drop something down one.
Of course, with a huge pile of rotten potatoes, nothing
could be handier. We dropped one down a hole, and
suddenly, we could hear some yelling and cussing.
“Stop that!”

“Wow!” Buster said, “I think you made Satan
really mad.”

“I saw a show once called The Dirty Dozen,”
Butch said. “One of the good guys had to run along
and throw hand grenades down the air vents to destroy
the Germans. He had to make the run under a ton of
bullets.”

That sounded exciting, and we decided we ought
to try the same thing.

“When they used dynamite in the mines in West

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