ce to the other
cabin. There was no excitement, no evidence of any alarm--their
crossing from the mouth of the cave had escaped observation. Thus far
at least they were safe.

Her heart beat faster as she turned away, satisfied with the success of
her plan. Nothing remained now but to secure Mendez, to make it
impossible for him to raise an alarm. If he could be bound, and locked
into that rear room. She looked at the two men--the Mexican had
slouched down into a chair, apparently having abandoned all hope of
escape, his chin lowered on his breast, his eyes hidden beneath the
wide brim of his hat. He was a perfect picture of depression, but
Cavendish appeared alert enough, the deadly knife still gripped in his
hand, a motionless, threatening figure. Feeling no trepidation, she
crossed toward the other room, noting as she passed that Mendez lifted
his head to observe her movements. She paused at the door, turning
suspiciously, but the man had already seemingly lost interest, and his
head again drooped. She stepped within.

CHAPTER XXVIII: WITH BACK TO THE WALL

It was dingy dark once she had crossed the threshold, yet enough of
light flickered in through the doorway to enable her to perceive the
few articles of furniture. The room itself was a small one, but
contained a roughly constructed wooden bed, two stools, and a square
table of unplaned boards. A strip of rag carpet covered a portion of
the floor, and there was a sort of cupboard in one corner, the door of
which stood open, revealing a variety of parcels, littering the
shelves. Against the wall in a corner leaned a short-barrelled gun, a
canvas bag draped over its muzzle.

She had no opportunity to observe more. To her ears there came the
sound of a blow in the room she had just left, a groan, the dull thud
of a body striking the floor, accompanied by a Spanish oath, and a
shuffling of feet. She sprang back into the open doorway, startled,
certain only of some catastrophe, her fingers gripping hard on the
revolver.

Cavendish lay writhing on the floor, the chair overturned beside him,
and the Mexican, with one swift leap forward, cleared the body, and
reached the window. Even as she caught this movement, too dazed for
the instant to act, the injured man struggled up on one elbow, and,
with all the force he possessed, hurled the knife straight at the
fleeing figure. It flashed through the air, a savage gleam of steel,
barely missing Men