But the rattle inside Sampson's room was mingling with little dull thuds of falling dirt.

The adobe wall, merely dried mud was crumbling.

I distinctly felt a tremor pass through it.

Then the blood gushed with sickening coldness back to my heart and seemingly clogged it.
"What in the hell!" exclaimed Sampson.
"I smell dust," said Blome sharply.
That was the signal for me to drop down from my perch, yet despite my care I made a noise.
"Did you hear a step ?" queried Sampson.
Then a section of the wall fell inward with a crash.

I began to squeeze my body through the narrow passage toward the patio.
"Hear him!" yelled Wright.